We Hate Each Other, But It Started With a One-Night Stand - Chapter 10.2

All those words were because of Rokai’s lies. When he brushed her off, saying there was no reason to apologize to himself, Rokai propped her cheek on her hand and pouted her lips. Looking dissatisfied but unable to retort, she seemed frustrated—a glimpse of something human about her.

She picked up her glass and swirled it. Watching the ice cubes clink, she spoke.

“Is she doing well? Is she free from injuries or illness? She’s the type to sleep with her belly exposed, so I hope she hasn’t caught a cold.”

“Back when we were in the same club, I saw her fairly often, but I never heard anything like that. For better or worse, she’s good at risk management, skillfully avoiding trouble.”

“She was in a club?”

Rokai’s eyes held a faint hope as she latched onto the topic, but Hatano dashed that hope.

“Not an art club, but a literature club. It’s practically a mixer club now, and she’s the club’s princess. I’ve already quit, so I don’t know the details, but I doubt much has changed.”

At those words, Rokai’s shoulders slumped dejectedly. “I see.”

Hatano reached for the glass placed before him and took a sip of the citrus-infused liquor. Watching him, Rokai seemed to remember something and spoke.

“She used to often doodle pufferfish in the corners of her notebooks.”

At her words, Hatano recalled the incident at the aquarium earlier. He nodded, pleased that Rokai remembered Shinomiya’s preferences.

“…Now that you mention it, she did say she liked them.”

“I wonder if she still draws them?”

Her eyes seemed to gaze into the distant past as she stared at the liquid in her glass, murmuring softly.

Her eyes held love and loneliness for a sister she hadn’t spoken to in a long time. When asked, Hatano pondered, but since he’d never seen her taking notes, he couldn’t say. He shrugged lightly.

“We don’t take the same lectures. If you’re curious, why not ask her directly?”

His words came out somewhat dismissive, but having discerned Rokai’s genuine affection, Hatano now felt Shinomiya should reunite with her.

He wanted her to find an emotional anchor sooner rather than later.

However, Rokai, understanding Hatano’s intent, smiled sadly.

“If I could meet her, I wouldn’t have called you here today.”

“…”

She can’t meet her. If he considered the reason she implied this indirectly, the answer came quickly.

Their feelings toward each other weren’t negative, but within the affection lay inferiority and guilt. Regardless of Rokai, Shinomiya was still tormented by inferiority, craving love in her loneliness. Yet, the love from the ‘one who took everything’—the one who stripped her of all love—would likely never satisfy her.

Rokai showed a slightly weary smile.

“It’s no good. I can’t do anything… Nothing changes. You understand, right?”

That was surely a conviction backed by numerous attempts and failures.

Even if Shinomiya received love from Rokai, her desire to be acknowledged by someone wouldn’t be fulfilled. The mercy of a ‘genius older sister’ would reward the ‘ordinary younger sister’ nothing. The voice and feelings of the one who took everything would never reach her.

Ironically, the person who loved her more than anyone in this world was the one who stripped away all the attention directed at her. Hatano, lost in thought, tried to untangle the knotted threads of his mind by downing his drink, then set the glass on the counter. With a determined expression, he spoke.

“Yeah.”

Quietly weaving words of affirmation, Rokai looked as if she’d been rewarded.

For the first time, someone had acknowledged her existence not as an ‘artist’ acting for Shinomiya as an individual, but as an ‘older sister.’ Propping her elbow, she lifted her glass, peering through the amber liquid at the antique lamp.

“Wanting to see her is my selfishness, and that one-sided feeling would only hurt her. So today, just being able to see her face was enough—and knowing someone as wonderful as you, Hatano-san, is by my sister’s side, I feel very relieved now.”

Rokai continued with a troubled expression. “But…”

“Please keep today a secret from her.”

“You want me to hide it?”

“A lie can be expedient, and it’s to avoid misunderstandings. If she finds out about my contact with you, she might resent my interference and distance herself. Moreover, she might suspect your future actions are orchestrated by me—the time you two have built, the distance you’ve closed, shouldn’t be disrupted by the intervention of a third party like me. In that closeness, I ‘wasn’t there.'”

As for Hatano, he didn’t want to lie.

But she had a point.

Shinomiya was that bound by her own bloodline. To escape, to forget, she lived recklessly, but conversely, that meant she remained trapped in the past. At the very least, if Hatano told her they’d spoken with Rokai together, she wouldn’t be at peace. Hatano scratched the back of his head, pondering as he looked at Rokai.

Rokai also spoke with a bitter expression, as if forcing the words out.

“…If the secret gets out, it would hurt her even more.”

“—It’s my selfishness. She moved out to get away from us, and I ignored her wishes by contacting her friend. I’m afraid of hurting her again like that.”

In Rokai’s desperate expression, the face of the artist was nowhere to be seen.

It was unclear how this decision would turn out, but he could no longer refuse.

At the very least, he could understand her feelings. Hatano was Shinomiya’s friend, and precisely because of that, he chose actions that would benefit her, even if she didn’t desire them. And today, he also respected the wishes of Rokai, an acquaintance he’d met through Shinomiya.

“…I understand.”

At his response, Rokai showed a relieved smile. However, Hatano shook his head.

“But this isn’t just your selfishness. It’s also my selfishness for agreeing and carrying it out. So, if something happens, you don’t have to bear the burden alone—we’re accomplices. I’ll help when needed, and you should ask for help.”

When Hatano spoke, staring straight into her eyes, Rokai looked taken aback and fell silent.

After a few seconds, her expression softened, and she closed her eyes as if savoring his words.

“No wonder she trusts you. You’re a strange person.”

“Unfortunately, I’m famously sensible.”

“You jest. Common sense can’t make that girl smile.”

He’d had a similar conversation with her just moments ago. Remembering that, he reaffirmed that the woman before him, the spitting image of Shinomiya, was indeed her sister. Finding it amusing, he laughed, and she, for the first time today, showed a genuine smile from the heart.

“Accomplices. It has a nice ring to it. If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”

As she said this, Rokai took her smartphone from her pocket. Immediately grasping her intent, Hatano quickly took out his own phone to exchange contacts. However, the wallpaper on her efficiently unlocked phone caught his eye.

“Hmm.”

Noticing it was a young girl who looked exactly like Shinomiya, Hatano couldn’t help but react. Sensing his gaze, Rokai said, “Ah, this?” with a nostalgic tone and expression, turning the device for him to see better.

Displayed was a girl proudly showing off a pufferfish drawing done in watercolors. Her clothes were stained with paint, and yellow paint was smeared on her cheek. Yet, the girl beamed a full smile at the photographer, and Rokai lovingly stroked the screen.

“This time was the happiest.”

Rokai’s words, woven without a specific recipient, were embraced by Hatano’s murmured “I see.” There was no need to confirm who the subject was, nor to ask why she had set this photo as her wallpaper.

The remarkably low pixel count seemed to attest to the years of accumulated feelings.

After exchanging phone numbers, email addresses, and messaging app contacts, Hatano changed the registered name to ‘Rokai’ and returned his phone to his pocket.

“Thank you for today. I would have been satisfied just seeing my sister’s healthy face but being able to hear about her recent life from someone close and gaining an unexpected ally was a bonus.”

“I also thought about punching you out at one point… but since you genuinely care about her, I’ll forgive you. I understand why she avoids you and why you don’t want to get close. I don’t even know myself what I can do or what I want to do, but I promise I’ll do whatever I can.”

Because I’m her friend. Adding that in his heart, Hatano downed the remaining liquor in one go. It was a wasteful way to drink expensive liquor, but such occasions just didn’t suit him. Apologizing lightly to the master, who wore a wry smile, he prepared to leave, and Rokai also began gathering her things.

“As family, all I can do is bow to a third party—it’s pathetic, but—even so, please, I beg you. Please support my sister.”

Once ready, Rokai stood and bowed deeply to Hatano.

“She’s precious family.”

Hatano savored Rokai’s words, forced out as they were.

She had said she was glad someone like him was by her sister’s side, but Hatano felt the same. Shinomiya was saved by having family like Rokai. She hadn’t lived unwanted by anyone. Ironically, Rokai was the very one who had stripped her of all attention and love, yet the familial love she held for Shinomiya was genuine.

Hatano received Rokai’s words, took them in, and nodded.

“I’m glad.”

At his words, Rokai looked up quizzically.

“That she has family who would say that about her.”

Continuing, Rokai let out a soft chuckle.

At the taxi stand. Their bodies warmed by alcohol, they exhaled white breaths as they stood side by side, gazing at the distant stars. Hatano suddenly asked Rokai beside him about something that had been on his mind.

“By the way, in your opinion, is she good at drawing?”

Rokai, who had been warming her hands with her white breath, stopped and looked at Hatano.

Rubbing her hands together to warm them, she pondered. “…Hmm.”

“Are you asking me as her ‘sister’?”

“I’d like to hear that too, for reference.”

“She’s the world’s greatest genius. I don’t know any artist better than her.”

“Okay, can I ask ‘the artist Rokai’?”

Satisfied with the expected answer, Hatano prompted for the real one. She, who had boasted with an utterly serious expression, shrugged and averted her gaze from Hatano. After a moment’s thought, she looked back.

“What will you do with that information?”

Sharp question. She was likely worried he might use it to corner Shinomiya unnecessarily. But he had no intention of misusing it. Gazing vaguely at the stars, Hatano blew a breath as if to scatter the twinkling lights.

“I don’t understand what I want her to do, what I want to make her do. I just can’t bear to watch her live desperately seeking someone’s approval, so I want to do something—anything. I don’t know what I’ll do, but whatever it is, I need to know her, so I just want to know what I don’t know.”

Laying everything bare, Rokai savored his response.

After scrutinizing it to ensure no harm, Rokai eventually looked at Hatano and spoke.