Chapter 14
“Yeah. I'm here. First floor. I'll hang up.”
It took a little while for the bus to come, so I got home a bit late, and right on cue, she called.
After telling her I was here and hanging up, I'm waiting for the elevator.
Ding-
As I'm about to step into the elevator, someone inside gets out.
A man and woman who look like a married couple, with a little kid between them.
I press myself to the side to make room.
“What do you say?”
“Thank you~”
The child readily repeats what their mother says, then dashes forward.
I give a slight bow and step into the empty elevator.
“Honey, you brought the car keys, right?”
“Oh, right! I'll go back and get them real quick.”
“Seriously, sheesh~”
Are they getting back on?
I take my finger off the Close button I'd been holding down and press Open.
Honey... right, calling your spouse honey is perfectly normal.
The doors are closing.
I'm on the seventeenth floor, and this person is on the nineteenth.
There's no point taking out my phone in an elevator that's headed up when I'll have to put it away again in a moment.
I just stand there... and before I know it, my gaze drifts to the man riding with me.
He has a pleasant, open face. Handsome, too.
“…?”
O-our eyes met.
I turn my head away as casually as I can, then get curious for no reason and sneak another glance... but,
We meet eyes again.
“Did you want to say something...?”
“Ah... no.”
This is awkward.
Since he might think I'm a weirdo, I try adding something.
“I just... you seem happy.”
“Ah, haha...”
From now on, when someone else gets on the elevator, I should just quietly look at my phone.
“Are you married?”
“Uh... yes.”
Since he's a stranger, it's fine to just say that, right?
“It's nice, isn't it?”
“Pardon?”
“Being married. Isn't it nice?”
It definitely wasn't a marriage I entered out of love.
But if I had to choose just one—whether I'm glad I got married or regret it—
“…It's nice.”
Ding-
The seventeenth floor.
We'd talked a little, so I give him a light bow and move toward the opening doors.
But through the gap in the doors, I see a familiar face...?
“Honey!”
“W-whoa, you startled me... Why are you out here?”
“You said you were on the first floor, honey! Hurry up and come in!”
Even now, calling my sister “honey” in front of other people is hard.
Hearing her call me that is just as hard.
I hurry out of the elevator and stand beside my sister.
I glance back without thinking and meet the eyes of the man, who's looking our way with a warm smile.
The last thing I hear through the elevator doors as they start to close is,
“You seem happy.”
“……”
“Hmm? Who was that? Someone you know?”
“No... let's go. Home.”
I go into the apartment with my sister.
It really is... nice.
Having someone waiting for me when I get home.
It's nice if that person is my sister, too, but maybe a little nicer because she's my wife.
***
The first thing my sister does after coming inside is take the flower I gave her and put it in a vase.
It's not even a bright bouquet, just one peony, but she looks pretty happy.
“Hmm, hmm... hmm-hmm-hmm...”
“Is it your favorite flower?”
“It's a flower, so I like it. And it's one my husband gave me!”
“It's pretty, but they said it'll wilt in a week.”
My sister fills the vase with water and wipes the area around it with a towel.
She closes her eyes and leans her head toward the pink petals, savoring the scent for a moment.
Leaving her to it, I take the empty lunch containers out of the bag.
She made the food, so I should be the one to wash them.
“R-right! The lunchbox!”
“Did you forget?”
“Yeah!”
At the clattering sound, my sister's eyes fly open and she comes trotting over.
But this time, I was a little faster.
I'm already standing at the sink, wearing rubber gloves.
Oh, right. I should start by telling her how we opened the lunchbox together at work earlier.
She'll definitely be happy to hear what the manager and Junwoo said.
“When I got to work this morning, people got curious when they saw this.”
“T-the lunchbox? And then...?”
“We opened it together. What did the manager say again...”
‘True love.’
“Right. True love. The manager called it that when he saw the inari sushi and scrambled eggs—”
“W-what do I do, what do I do? I'm going crazy!”
Smack-!
I got hit in the back out of nowhere.
Why is she acting so embarrassed when she made the lunch herself?
“Anyone could tell it looked like a lunchbox made with lots of love by a wife, right? Hehehe...”
“They thought you were my girlfriend, not my wife... Anyway, it was really good. How'd you make it?”
“That's a se-cret!”
“What secret? You just followed Mom's instructions, didn't you?”
The lunch containers clatter against each other.
But I can hear my sister's chattering voice loud and clear beside me.
“N-no, I didn't! The only thing Mom taught me was the scrambled eggs!”
“No wonder that was the best part.”
“Really...? That's not good.”
What? My sister's expression suddenly turns serious.
Since I was just teasing her, I take back what I said.
“I'm kidding, I'm kidding.”
“W-what! You scared me!”
Smack-!
It's starting to sting. My back is burning.
“So what was the best part?”
“Hmm... the miso soup.”
“Right? The miso soup was good, huh? It looks simple, but there's a lot to pay attention to~”
My sister proudly shrugs her shoulders.
She worked so hard first thing in the morning, and just hearing that it tasted good makes her this happy.
“Should I make it for you again sometime? You want to eat it again, right?”
She sticks close to my side and stares at me with a look that says, ‘Come on, say you want me to make it again!’
Of course it was good. So good that I couldn't figure out how my sister had managed to make such a neat, well-made lunchbox first thing in the morning.
But I'm not here just to eat the breakfasts my sister makes.
...No. That effort isn't what matters.
She wants to hear her husband say, ‘I want to eat your cooking again.’
“Yeah. It was good. Make it for me again sometime.”
“Hehehe... Great! It's a one-year-limited menu, so I'll make it for you a lot~”
“……”
Could she tone down comments like that a little?
Anyway, I'm almost done washing the dishes.
I don't have work tomorrow, so I turn to ask my sister what she wants to do tomorrow, but...
She's not there.
Instead, I hear someone behind me, over by the dining table.
“You said it would wilt in a week, right? It's pretty... what a shame.”
“I'll buy you another flower.”
My sister is staring at the flower.
I'm done with the dishes now, too.
I take off my gloves, wash my hands, and turn around again to see my sister holding the vase up with both hands.
“…What are you doing?”
“Doesn't this flower look a little like you, Sis?”
“What part?”
“It'll wilt in a week! And after a year...”
Guhk.
She puts a hand to her neck, then slices it across.
“…Like this, Sis.”
“I told you not to say things like that.”
“Why! Why! It's true! And we're both pretty, right? Hm?”
“That's... true, I guess.”
“Pretty flowers like this always wilt so quickly. That's why you have to cherish them even more.”
My sister slowly sets the vase down on the table, as if she were handling a baby.
The quicker a flower wilts, the more you should cherish it?
She wasn't talking about me... was she?
“What about an artificial flower instead?”
“I hate those!”
“Why? They won't wilt.”
“That's why I hate them.”
I thought she was just playing with words, but my sister looks a little serious.
Keeping her gaze on the pink petals, my sister explains why.
“After they wilt... you remember them. The way they looked when they were blooming so beautifully. Then you think of them again later.”
“But you can keep looking at artificial flowers.”
“I hate them because they're fake and have no scent.
“You hate them because they're fake?”
“Mm-hm.”
If you put it that way, I'm a fake husband, too.
I don't know. Still, I like fresh flowers better than artificial ones.
I don't really have a reason, though.
“All right! Time to reward you for making me a lunchbox.”
“How calculating.”
“Even between married couples, nothing in this world comes for free.”
“Then what do you want?”
“That's... for you to guess, honey. I'll give you a hint, though.”
“A hint?”
“You can do it right now, this very second, without having to prepare anything!”
My sister has come right up to me and tips her head, as if urging me to hurry up and guess.
Something you can do right now, without preparing anything... physical affection?
I think I know.
We started by holding hands, so maybe this is next.
I take a step forward, spread my arms, and gently hug my sister.
“…Is this right?”
“Mmmm... not enough. More.”
Do you want me to hug you tighter?
This is... we're so close, and I'm conscious of our bodies touching.
I awkwardly move my stiff arms around my sister's back... and hold her a little closer.
“Mooore.”
My sister buries herself in my arms and wraps them tightly around my waist.
Whatever, I give up. I just wrap my arms around her and hug her, too.
“…Is this right?”
“……”
You could at least tell me if I got it right.
Still, I guess I wasn't wrong.
Judging by how she stays still... held tight in my arms like this.
Since neither of us says anything, I can hear our hearts beating.
Two heartbeats overlap and thrum together.
One of them is a little weak.
“Sis.”
“Mm?”
“Am I... doing all right?”
Did you like it?
With my utterly awkward act as a husband.
All that anxiety and worry gets swept away in an instant by my sister's bright smile as she looks up at me.
“Of course! You're the best. A good husband.”
“……”
“Even if I really had gotten married... I think it would've been like this.”
I think I could do a little better.
I can't just sit still because my sister is satisfied with this much.
Just yesterday, I decided I should be a little more proactive.
Today, I didn't know how, so buying her a single flower was the best I could do...
But now, somehow, I think I know.
“Sis.”
“What?
We are siblings.
The role I've taken on is a fake one: an artificial flower that won't wilt but has no scent.
And my sister can only look at this flower for a year at most.
So,
“No. Honey.”
“Huh? Wh-what? Honey.”
Let's be the most lifelike flower among the artificial ones.
Let's be a husband.
Let's do what married couples do.
“Want to sleep together starting tonight?”