Her heart was pounding wildly.
There's that exaggerated phrase, "my blood vessels are about to burst," and in that moment, Yukinoshita Haruno finally understood what it meant.
Her head felt like it was boiling, as if all the blood in her body had rushed straight up.
She didn't know what to say. She could only stare blankly at her mother.
What was she supposed to say?
…You've got to be kidding me.
She'd blurted it out before she even realized it.
Yukinoshita's mother looked at her calmly.
"Haruno, what are you trying to say?"
—Stop joking around—!!!
Only after the words burst out of her did Haruno finally recognize her own emotions.
She'd thought she was completely disappointed, that she wouldn't feel anything anymore.
Turned out she'd been far too naïve.
She didn't know how to turn the flood inside her into coherent words. Instead, she simply picked up the teacup in front of her and hurled it to the floor. It shattered into countless pieces.
The sharp crash made Yukino Yukinoshita flinch back in shock.
S–Sister…?
For a moment, even her mother couldn't understand what Haruno was doing. But once the shards scattered across the tatami, she finally realized that her daughter was shouting at her—and her expression darkened completely.
You—!
Haruno's whole body shook. It felt like a mouth with teeth had opened inside her heart, and she thought, grinding her molars—
You—"a mother's responsibility"? Do you really have the nerve to say that?
You were the one who raised me as the heir.
You were the one who made me Yukino's role model and pushed her to grow.
You were the one who wouldn't let me go out and play.
You were the one who made me work hard, become "excellent."
You were the one who told me to always smile.
Because of the goal you decided for me, I've lived like this for more than ten years.
Her eyes reddened as she glared at her mother.
And now you're the one trying to take away the only reason I've had to live—!!!
Family affection is a double-edged sword. A small, casual action from a relative can fill your heart with happiness. But a single offhand word can also cut your heart open and leave it bleeding.
Now, she'd grabbed that knife herself and rammed it into both their chests.
And after all that, you hypocritically tell me you'll "support" me financially? That you're "fulfilling your responsibility"? Can you even say that with a straight face? Do you really think dangling a little bait in front of me will make me wag my tail and crawl back to you?
Drip, drip—tears slid down Haruno's cheeks. Her voice was hoarse as she forced the words out:
"Let me tell you this: I never cared about your stupid heir position. I just wanted you to…"
Yukinoshita's mother's lips trembled.
So Haruno had always thought that way…?
Yukino also stared blankly at her sister and mother, unable to say a word.
Haruno sniffed.
No… that's not entirely fair, she thought. You really are a qualified mother—but only for Yukino.
Her shouting seemed to be venting every feeling she'd bottled up over the years.
From the very beginning, you poured your whole heart into Yukino.
If Yukino wanted to go out, you let her go out.
If she wanted to live alone, you let her move out.
If she wanted to form a club, you never opposed it.
You worried about her, cared for her, protected her—and even the things I struggled for, the emotions I nurtured, you were willing to hand over to her.
It must have been very similar to jealousy. Maybe there was jealousy mixed in, but it wasn't just that.
All sorts of images flashed through Haruno's mind.
She's your real daughter. I'm just an outsider. I have to endure everything. I don't deserve anything. All because I happened to be three years older than her.
"…Haruno."
Her mother's voice wavered.
So even this person can make that kind of face, Haruno thought vaguely. How satisfying.
The self-loathing and cruelty twisting inside her made Haruno shudder from head to toe, but at the same time, sorrow and pain surged through her chest.
Ahh… why am I thinking about all this now…?
She brushed her tears away in a rough motion, took a deep breath, and turned her back on them.
It's my fault. I should have realized from the very beginning—
There's no place for me in this family.
Her voice rang out in the room, lonely and flat. Then she walked out through the sliding door without the slightest hesitation.
The tearoom fell silent.
Yukino's mind had gone completely blank, still reeling from the shock. After a moment, she finally looked up at her mother with a dazed expression, as if waking from a nightmare.
Then she suddenly remembered something, grabbed her phone, and with trembling fingers sent a text.
Kiyo, Kiyono—Big Sister ran away from home!
---
Yukinoshita Haruno rushed out of the house and wandered aimlessly down the street.
Her thoughts were a jumbled mess. She had no idea where she was going or what she wanted to do. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed to get as far away from that place as possible.
She just wanted to be alone.
She walked, and walked, and walked.
The whirling snow turned her beautiful hair a pure, frosty white. She didn't bother shaking it off. She let the untouched flakes fall, melt, soak into her clothes, and seep into her bones.
Luckily, she still had her phone and wallet. She wasn't completely stranded.
She made it to the bus stop. The dense web of routes on the map reflected the chaos in her mind. Somewhere in the haze, she suddenly remembered an old church in a nearby town she'd once seen in a magazine.
So she bought a one-way ticket.
The town was close—less than two stops away by train. As the carriage swayed faintly, Haruno stared at her reflection in the window. It felt like looking at a stranger.
The church was close, too. All she had to do was ask an old woman on the street, and she found it right away.
Haruno pushed open the door.
There were no nuns or priests here—just an ordinary village hall. The people coming and going were all kindly elders, using the place as somewhere to chat, with free meals for anyone in need.
The building was old, but warm. The pulpit was mottled with age; faded portraits of saints holding lilies and grapes hung crooked on the walls. Light filtered through the stained-glass windows in soft colors, flickering with the snow outside, while firewood crackled in the fireplace, sending sparks flying.
As the sky darkened, the old folks drifted out one by one. The last Old Granny paused by Haruno, who still sat there lost in thought. She didn't ask anything. She simply took out a set of keys, placed them in Haruno's hand, and gently told her to stay safe.
Once the door shut, the church was empty.
Haruno wasn't worried about safety. Her Aikido skills were second only to her mother's, and she had self-defense tools on her.
Outside, the snow kept falling. The wind grew stronger and slammed against the doors, making them rattle. The wind sounded like someone crying far away.
Haruno hugged her knees and rested her chin on them. A thin, icy draft snuck under the door, and she shivered, curling up tighter where she sat.
She had thought she'd come here and rage against everything, scream her throat raw at the world. But once she actually arrived, all she could do was quietly sift through memories of the past, of her family.
What kind of existence was her little sister to Yukinoshita Haruno?
It was strange—she'd thought she'd long forgotten all of that. But the moment she asked herself the question, images rose up in her mind, sharp and vivid.
She remembered it clearly: Yukino was born on January 3rd, on a day of heavy snowfall. That was why their mother named her Yukino.
To be honest, when she first heard she had a little sister, she hadn't felt much of anything. Maybe a slight aversion, even. You couldn't expect a three-year-old to understand what "little sister" really meant. But since both her parents were so happy, she smiled along too.
Even after they started living together, her feelings didn't change. Yukino had seemed so fragile, like she would break with a single touch. Rather than "taking care" of her, Haruno had felt like she was "trying not to make any mistakes," careful not to disturb her.
And since Yukino was quiet by nature and never approached her on her own, the two sisters grew up with that faint, unfilled distance between them.
The first time Haruno truly realized Yukino was her sister was in third grade.
It was an ordinary summer afternoon. She'd just finished her homework and was about to relax when she noticed Yukino standing behind her. The younger girl's long black hair drooped down on either side of her cheeks like limp rabbit ears. In a small, timid voice, she said,
"Big Sister… I can't reach the picture book."
She must be asking for help, right? Even the way she asked was awkward.
Haruno had thought at the time that her sister's personality clearly had some issues. The perceptive younger version of her had vaguely sensed that much.
But putting that aside, when the little Yukino made her first request, Haruno's first thought was simply: I want to help her.
That feeling seemed engraved in her genes.
She fetched the step stool, climbed up, and took down the fairy-tale picture book from the shelf for Yukino. Watching her little sister hold the book, eyes sparkling with joy, lifted Haruno's own mood as well.
Yukino didn't say thank you. Her personality really does have issues, Haruno had thought. But before she could mull it over further, Yukino had thrust a candy into her hand, looked up at her, and, in a clumsy way, tried her best to say "thank you."
In that moment, Haruno truly understood that she was this child's older sister—and that they would grow up together.
After that, the distance between them slowly shrank.
And then time had flowed on, bringing them to the present.
These scenes flickered across her mind like an old television replaying a worn-out movie.
There was no doubt that Yukinoshita Haruno loved her little sister deeply—
Because Yukino was so fragile. Because she was so cute. Because she was so beautiful.
Yukino was like a visible shadow carrying her regrets and persistence. Looking at Yukino was like looking at another version of herself that might have been. Without even needing a reason, Haruno's thoughts would turn to her again and again, like two minds linked by telepathy.
But at the same time, Haruno was deeply jealous of her sister—
Because Yukino had everything Haruno herself wanted: freedom, affection, ease.
And she also took away everything Haruno had: the love she'd fought for, the goals she'd pursued, the emotions she'd built.
Jealousy, yet unable to stay away. Longing, yet never able to obtain.
The contradictions tangled together endlessly in her chest, twisting her heart out of shape.
Why does such an emotion as jealousy have to exist in humans?
Haruno hated this side of herself.
If only the sun would never rise again. Let the night cover the world. Let the snow never melt.
If I could just sleep forever, I could hide all this ugliness and selfishness in my dreams, too.
And yet, at the same time—
She also wished that someone might accept this Yukinoshita Haruno.
Kiyono…
Kiyono.
Without realizing it, her thoughts drifted to him. She was drawn toward him, like a missing piece of her heart was calling out for what fit it.
Right then, the howling wind and rattling door suddenly fell silent. Someone had pushed the door open and closed it. Footsteps echoed through the wooden hall.
The instant she heard that gait, Haruno's body relaxed on its own.
Miss Haruno, hiding here on purpose… are you testing the tacit understanding between us?
The footsteps stopped, and a familiar voice echoed through the small church.
Haruno turned her head. Moonlight poured in through the stained glass and outlined the profile of a good-looking boy.
The moment his face came fully into view, she froze.
Kiyono stood there, covered in snow. Fine ice crystals clung to his hair. His eyelashes were wet where the flakes had melted. Even the white vapor of his breath trembled slightly—but he still smiled at her like an idiot.
Her heart clenched painfully. She bit her lip and finally realized just what this boy had done for her.
By her usual pattern, she should have made a teasing quip right then. But instead, she instinctively stood up and walked toward him.
Heh, heh, moved, are you? I didn't do much—just checked four churches in the area and stood around in the snow getting drenched for five hours…
Kiyono exhaled sharply, still trying to joke. But the next instant, his voice cut off.
Haruno had thrown her arms around him.
—Warmth.
It felt like a warm wind blowing through an ice canyon, turning a sky full of swirling snow into gentle, endless spring rain.
Idiot, I'm not that easy, he thought. Don't be so straightforward about it…
That soft, wonderful sensation was right there—
Kiyono didn't dare say that out loud. His arms stiffened for a second, then he slowly wrapped them around her and hugged her back.
After a long embrace, Haruno finally let go. She wrinkled her nose, claiming his clothes were wet and filthy, but her hands were gentle as she brushed the snow from his shoulders, flake by flake.
The two of them sat side by side on the floor. The Virgin Mary in the stained glass seemed to lower her eyes and gaze softly at them. Moonlight scattered across the stone like stars.
"Do you want to commit a lovers' suicide with me?"
Haruno asked again, but unlike the emotional, high-pitched demand from before, this time her tone was calm.
"It's not time yet."
Kiyono gave the same answer as before.
Haruno tilted her head, studying his profile. All she had to do was reach out her hand, and she could touch him.
If it's this person…
In this sealed-off little world where only the two of them existed, she wanted there to be no more secrets.
She wanted to take off the mask covering her face, unleash the impulses always held back by reason, and confess the loneliness she usually hid.
She wanted them to lay everything bare for each other, to pour out every feeling buried deep in their hearts.
Haruno reached out. Their hands naturally intertwined.
"Do you know what I did today?" she asked. "I yelled at Mother and even smashed a teacup. I was going to just endure it like always… but I couldn't."
She smiled a little helplessly.
"I figured as much when you ran out here."
Kiyono smiled too and picked up the thread.
This was exactly what he'd hoped for.
Even if it meant hurting each other and arguing, that was still better than endlessly bottling everything up. When a person forces their feelings down too far, the end result is often self-destruction.
In fact, he'd even nudged her—ever so slightly—toward this argument.
"What's Yukino going to do now?"
Haruno let out a long sigh. "I showed her such an ugly side of myself. The Yukinoshita Haruno she liked is dead now. And after my outburst, she must be in an impossible position…"
It was the first time she'd ever spoken about her and Yukino's situation to Kiyono.
"She definitely prefers this kind of sister," he answered softly.
"What am I supposed to do from here…?"
Haruno said whatever popped into her mind, her expression shifting—anxious, impatient, bright, relaxed.
On paper, she had gained the freedom she'd always imagined. No longer bound by the family, able to do whatever she wanted.
But the moment she stripped off the title of Yukinoshita, all that remained in her heart was confusion.
Right now, she felt like a scrap of paper, blown wherever the wind happened to carry her.
If Kiyono weren't here, she would probably have locked herself away like this, letting the days blur by.
But the fact that he was sitting next to her made all the difference.
At that thought, the ice within her chest cracked ever so slightly. From those fine fissures, a warm current seeped out, reminding her of spring snow melt, of flowers trembling in the morning light.
And suddenly, the world didn't seem so dark anymore.
"Just do what you want to do," Kiyono said quietly. "I'll be with you the whole time.
"If you want ramen from that one shop, we'll go eat there. If you want to be in a band, we'll find a busy street and perform.
"We can watch the snow, and the flowers and trees, and the cats, and the stars.
"There are still so many delicious things, fun things, beautiful things in this world.
"You can eat when you want to eat. Laugh when you want to laugh. Cry when you want to cry."