Chapter 4– March 4, Sakurazaka Yae.

“Gugaaaaaahhhhhh-“

“Help meeee! Somebody, anybody!”

A woman’s scream drowned out the man’s growling  voice.

I sat in the living room, clutching a cushion and watching in horror.

“What are you doing?” A voice of disbelief came from behind.

“I’m watching a zombie movie,” I replied.

“Yae-nee is watching a horror movie? Wait, did you become a masochist?”

I heard my little brother said something rude. Well, I don’t deny that I’m not good with scary things.

“Why now? In just another month, you’ll be able to see the real thing whether you like it or not.”

“I’m studying. I thought it would be good to know a little more about this kind of thing.”

While there is a considerable difference between fiction and non-fiction, I think it’s not a bad idea to prepare oneself mentally.

If I didn’t build up some resistance, I might panic when I see the real thing.

My considerate brother took out a drink from the fridge and prepared a cup and some snacks, then sat down next to me.

When our shoulders touched, he smiled wryly and said, “This is essential for watching movies.”

He poured cola into a cup and handed it to me.

“You’re so thoughtful. Thanks.”

No matter what they say, he is kind.

Even though I was quite scared earlier, just having my little brother nearby has lessened my fear.

“If we were in America, we would have the option to fight because of the presence of guns.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it in Japan. But it would be nice to have weapons just in case.”

“It’s better not to use them, but it doesn’t hurt to have them. Let’s see if we can find some weapons.”

My brother opened his favorite laptop and began researching something. After a while, he tapped my shoulder and urged me to look at the display. I was relieved to see a screen displaying an online shopping site instead of gruesome images.

“It’s a website that sells security-related goods, but none of them seem very impressive.”

“Stun guns? Do they work on zombies?”

“I don’t know. Since they were once human, they might work to some extent.”

I’ve played some games where stun weapons were a powerful weapon against zombies. But what about in real life?

“The most powerful weapon that can be obtained in Japan is the crossbow.”

Saying that, he operated the PC and showed me an image.

The weapon had a look like a combination of a bow and a gun. I had seen it a few times in games. Compared to guns, it had less power and couldn’t shoot continuously, but it had the advantage of being quiet.

According to my brother, ‘It’s now permission-based due to a legal revision, but there are loopholes, so there are ways to do it.’

“I’ll buy extra arrows too, and I’ll pick out the ones that seem usable,” he said.

“Okay. I don’t know much about weapons, so I’ll leave it to you,” I replied.

Even though we were talking like this, I was aware that there was a lot of tension. I didn’t doubt his precognitive dreams. After all, it was thanks to that ability that we were able to live comfortably like this. But the contents of that dream were too unrealistic.

“Horror movies often have bad endings, don’t they?” I said, watching a scene where the protagonist leaves their friends and faces the enemy alone.

“Whether it’s bad or happy, isn’t it just a matter of interpretation?” he replied, not intending to ask a question, but to answer me.

I turned to him and saw him staring at the TV with a serious expression.

“Well, it feels like the story’s’ endings were a world without hope, whether the protagonist or the heroine dies or survives.”

“Still, I think that any ending can be a happy one as long as the protagonist is satisfied with it.”

“You mean the protagonist, not the viewer?”

When I mentioned my doubts, my younger brother nodded slightly.

“If the protagonist is satisfied, then it’s a happy ending.”

“Hmm, I’m not so sure about that.”

I wasn’t completely convinced, but I didn’t want to argue about it, so I changed the subject.

“By the way, when is Diya coming over?”

I was curious about the strangely familiar tone they had with each other, but I decided not to bring it up since I had already interrogated my brother about it last night. If I took his word for it, she was “just a friend.”

However, even if my brother genuinely believed that, I couldn’t be sure about what the other person thought.

“She’s supposed to arrive tomorrow around noon. She said she won’t discuss anything until she sees the house and the garden first,” my brother replied.

“Oh, I see. Then I should at least go and say hello… I mean, it’s not… necessary, right?”

Towards the end, my voice became a small whisper.

I couldn’t even bring myself to look up and instead stared at the floor. My hands, clenched on my knees, were shaking slightly.

“Yae-nee, you don’t have to force yourself. I’ll handle the situation,” my brother reassured me.

“I’m sorry…” I muttered.

I was such a pathetic sister. Ever since then, I’ve avoided people as much as possible.

The media’s relentless pursuit after our parents’ death. The never-ending harassment and prank calls. Every time I stepped outside, I was bombarded with a variety of emotions. Most of them were kind words, but…

Men who approach with feigned sympathy and ulterior motives. Relatives aiming for insurance money and inheritance. The dark glint in their eyes and their true intentions. Ever since being exposed to that… I couldn’t handle being around people anymore.

At first, I only couldn’t meet people’s eyes, and being around others made me dizzy and short of breath. Eventually, I couldn’t even stand to be seen by anyone.

With this kind of condition, there was no way I could find a job, so I’ve been shut in at home all this time.

Thanks to my brother, I can still survive, but if I were alone, by now…

“I’m useless and not good at anything, even just wasting food…”

Suddenly, I felt something warm on my head. When I looked up, I saw my younger brother with his back turned, his hand on my head.

“You’re overthinking things. It was you who came up with a way to use my ability, so it’s only natural to split the money earned from it, right? And since it’s money you earned yourself, you don’t have to worry about it,” he said, awkwardly smiling.

Even though he could be gruff at times, he was fundamentally kind-hearted. As I gazed at his slightly embarrassed profile, I finally mustered the courage to say something she had been considering for a long time.

“You know, maybe it would be better to tell Diya the truth. She might be more willing to help if she knew, and besides, shouldn’t we invite her over to see the finished house?” she suggested.

Her brother looked at her in surprise, as if asking, “Did you just say something weird?”

“I have considered that, but is Yae-nee going to be okay living with someone other than me?”

“I don’t know. But abandoning her is not an option…”

I have no intention of saying something as idealistic as wanting to save everyone in the world. To be honest, my brother’s life is the most important thing to me. That’s the truth.

However, if I abandon Diya-san, my brother will suffer from guilt. I don’t want to see him like that.

“I see. I understand. But let’s wait and see for a while and reveal the truth once we see if we can truly trust her. Is that okay?”

“Yes, I’ll leave it to you.”

After that, the two of us watched the movie until the end, discussing our thoughts such as “I don’t understand why they would go back when they know they’re going to be killed” and “Isn’t it love?” while preparing dinner.

Well, my brother does all the cooking, so I just help with serving and chatting.

“Jin-chan… do you like your older sister?”

As I gazed at my brother’s back, who had grown bigger since the past, the question slipped out of my mouth unexpectedly.

If I had said it jokingly, it would have been fine, but I asked it in a serious tone.

The sound of the knife, which had been sounding rhythmically, hitting the cutting board, stopped, and my brother slowly turned around.

He didn’t say anything, but his brow furrowed, giving away his thoughts: “What is she talking about?”

“Do you have to make that face? I just asked out of curiosity,” I retorted, adopting a teasing tone that was different from before.

“Anyway, it’s obvious who I like…it’s like after Ann and Haruka.” he said, trying to act nonchalant.

The first half of the statement was perfect, but the latter half earned negative points.

“Please stop abbreviating the names of sweet potato varieties in a weird way.”

“What’s wrong with using nicknames? Don’t make fun of Anno-imo and Beniharuka!”

“Share some of that love for sweet potatoes with me too.”

“No way!”

My younger brother’s one and only, yet biggest flaw or rather, weird quirk, is his abnormal love for sweet potatoes. He has no hesitation in answering immediately when asked about his favorite food.

“Its purple skin.”

“You mean the peel?”

“Its gentle yet sweet interior.”

“You mean the taste?”

“Whether boiled, baked, steamed, or fried, it looks splendid in any attire–“

“Okay, okay, let’s just continue cooking.”

As he passionately starts talking about his love for sweet potatoes, I give up and abruptly end the conversation to get back to cooking.