Chapter 17
Double Bacon Deluxe Signature Burger.
The most expensive hamburger in this shop, with its grandiose name, is set down in front of my sister.
“…Enjoy your meal.”
“Yeees~ You enjoy yours too, honey!”
My sister still can't stop laughing.
Was it really that funny? Didn't she mind at all that people had mistaken her for being pregnant?
…Well, she looks happy, so that's all that matters.
“W-wait!”
“What is it?”
“Could you feed me the first bite, honey?”
“……”
Of course I can do that.
I've mostly gotten over the awkwardness of feeding her something, thanks to feeding her strawberries.
The problem is the manager and Jiwoo over there, on the other side of the counter, staring right at us.
It's driving me crazy how they keep whispering to each other, too.
But I can't exactly refuse when my sister asks…
I pick up a warm, crispy Cajun fry, fresh from the fryer, and dip it lightly in ketchup.
“Ah, open up…”
“Aaah—”
Clap, clap, clap.
I wondered where that soft applause was coming from, then saw Jiwoo clapping while looking over at us.
Jiwoo nods and claps, then catches my eye and gives me a thumbs-up.
All right. From now until we leave, I won't look over there again.
“…Go ahead and eat now.
“You enjoy yours too, honey!”
My sister takes a huge bite of her hamburger.
Her cheeks puff out as she chews, and she looks… quite cute.
As for me, I work at this shop and eat hamburgers almost every day, so I'm used to the taste to the point of being sick of it,
but even fast food like this can feel blissful with that first bite if you only have it once in a while.
“It's delicious!”
“I'm glad… to hear that.”
“Hurry and eat yours too, honey! While it's still warm.”
And I guess it's the same for my sister, looking at me with that satisfied smile.
Seeing that smile, my situation—being misunderstood in such an absurd way—doesn't feel all that serious.
Just like hamburgers get tiresome if you eat them too often, married life might sometimes wear on us, too.
But for at least this next year, let's make sure there's no time to get tired of it… Let's make sure my sister can smile like this at every new experience.
My sister's, mine. Our firsts as a married couple, as siblings.
Let's not take our firsts lightly.
***
After we finished eating, I gave my sister her after-meal medicine, and then we left the shop.
I can't deny that I was escaping from the manager, who'd paid for us, and Jiwoo, who kept giving me a thumbs-up.
As we walked out, the manager called after us from behind.
“Come again!”
“Yeees~”
“…Honey. You're saying we'll come back here again?”
“Yes! Why?”
“Eating too many hamburgers is bad for your health.”
That's a ridiculous excuse.
I'm not sure I could stop my sister even if she announced that she was going to eat hamburgers for all three meals starting today.
“Next time, I wanted to eat a hamburger you made for me, honey.”
“I... I'll pack one up and bring it home.”
“I want to eat it while it's warm!”
“…I'll hurry home, then.”
“Could you come home quickly even when there aren't any hamburgers?”
I've never dragged my feet because I didn't want to go home.
If anything, I've rushed out of the elevator in a panic so I wouldn't miss the bus.
“I'll… try.”
“Hehehe… good.”
“Then shall we head home now?”
“Sure!”
Thank goodness.
We made it through today's outing without any trouble.
Actually… apart from the time we were sitting in the shop, I think I checked my phone almost every minute.
How long have we been walking? Maybe we should stop for a bit soon.
Even though she doesn't look out of breath, I keep thinking about what happened at the supermarket.
My sister is just smiling as if she's perfectly fine, to the point that I feel like I'm fussing over her a little too much.
“Oh, right. There's a flower shop here.”
“A flower shop?”
“I bought the flower I gave you last time at the flower shop over there.”
As we walk toward the elevators, I suddenly remember the flower shop.
My sister likes flowers, so I think it might be nice to buy just one on our way home.
But after a moment's thought, my sister shakes her head.
“Hmm… it's okay. Let's go home.”
“Why? You were so happy when I gave you flowers.”
“You still have the flower you got from me at home.”
“That's… true.”
“And! I like flowers from my husband more than flowers I buy myself.”
“…Really?”
“Of course~”
Then there's no reason to go to the flower shop now.
We'll be back here again before the peony at home wilts, anyway.
“By the way, should we stop using polite speech now?”
“All of a sudden?”
“It's not that I dislike it~ It's just that it doesn't feel much like something my husband would say…? Ah, I mean, my little brother!”
“You mean it feels unfamiliar.”
“Yeah, yeah. But I think it'd be nice if you did it once in a while, too.”
That's right. Familiar things are nice.
I'd only just gotten used to the embarrassing polite speech, and now she was asking me to talk casually like usual again. What a fickle request.
But I didn't find it entirely bothersome.
“Once in a while? How often is that?”
“That's for my husband to figure out~”
Figure it out yourself, just the right amount. Those are difficult words.
Too much is a burden. Too little leaves you wanting more.
Finding the balance that feels right to you can't be easy, but fortunately,
I'm my sister's little brother, so I know quite a bit about her.
For example, right after a conversation like this comes up,
“I understan…d. I'll try to… get the balance right.”
“Hehehe… that's right, that's right.”
If I offer it with a light touch, as if subtly setting it down, my sister likes it.
My sister has always been easy to read.
It's not so much that she hides nothing as that she's the sort of person who expresses her feelings honestly.
When she's happy, she smiles. When she's unhappy, she pouts.
And yet she doesn't act on her emotions. Her mood doesn't dictate her behavior.
That part of her hasn't changed, even now.
“Let's hurry home! What's for dinner tonight, honey?”
“We just had lunch.”
“Life is basically one long wait~”
“Then wait a little longer.”
“I need to know what's on the menu to wait! I hate waiting for no reason.”
We finish our outing without incident and get on the elevator to the parking garage.
It feels like we've made another memory we can look back on someday and smile about.
My sister, holding my hand tightly, must feel the same way.
***
We got home a little after four.
When we arrived, there was a huge package sitting in front of the door.
I wondered what it was, then saw that it was fruit Mom had sent.
My sister likes fruit. She especially likes strawberries, but…
The fruit Mom sent was golden kiwis.
“I'll peel them, so… you open the planner we bought earlier.”
“You know how to peel kiwis, honey?”
“Kiwis are easy.”
For someone living alone, fruit is practically a luxury: expensive and quick to spoil.
I'd never imagined that the fruit-prep skills I'd picked up by chance while helping with kitchen chores would come in handy in married life.
Still, well, it's all good.
While my sister takes the planner out of the paper bag and unwraps it, I quickly prepare the kiwis.
Since these would be awkward to feed her by hand, I grab a fork and head to the sofa where she's sitting.
“Mmm… what else should I write…?”
“Here, some fruit. Eat this, then take your medicine—”
“Sit down first, honey.”
Before I can finish, my sister grabs my arm and pulls me down onto the sofa.
And the arm she's grabbed naturally becomes a pillow for her.
“What should I do, honey?”
“Is something wrong?”
“There are so many things I want to do… but it's hard to write them down.”
“Then start by writing down things you can do right away.”
If she fills her bucket list with goals that are too easy and simple, she might not feel as much accomplishment, but getting started matters, too.
I sit beside my sister and look quietly down at the planner.
At the very top, she's already written ‘Take a trip to Japan,’ a somewhat vague goal.
So what she'd said at the bookstore wasn't just a casual joke.
“All right! I've decided.”
“What is it?”
My sister's hand, holding a black pen, starts to move.
I look to see what she's writing, and it's just a short little phrase.
‘Getting butterflies’
“…What’s that?”
“Getting butterflies! A married couple needs that spark, right? It makes no sense without it. Mm, mm.”
She nods with a little smile, apparently pleased with what she's written.
Getting butterflies between siblings… I don't know. Is that even possible?
I can try to make her feel that way, but I'd need at least a hint about what sort of situation would do it.
“Then you haven't felt that way until now?”
“Until now? I guess… I have, a few times.”
“Tell me when. Then I can make it happen.”
“Mmm…”
She picks up the pen she'd been holding and taps it against her chin, tap, tap.
She seems to be searching her memories for a moment when she felt that way.
“Well, just now, when you were speaking politely, a little…?”
“What else?”
“The day we had dinner with Mom and Dad, when we held hands under the table, too…”
“What else?”
“Oh, right. A little when you asked me to sleep beside you, too.”
…That's quite a lot, isn't it?
Doesn't that just mean I should keep doing what I've been doing?
It seemed the thought that crossed my mind had occurred to my sister at exactly the same time.
Suddenly, she scribbles a black line over the three words she just wrote.
“Th-this one’s canceled. I don't need it.”
“Do whatever you want, honey.”
“Wh-why are you using polite speech…?”
“You told me to do it once in a while, didn't you?”
“Ah… r-right.”
This fidgety side of my sister isn't unfamiliar, either.
I often see it when she's focused on one thing, when she's completely absorbed in something.
I gently draw my arm in to properly support my sister's head, which has slipped a little lower, and say,
“Come closer.”
“Hm?”
“Come closer. Rest your head on my arm.”
“……”
My sister suddenly stops talking.
Then, out of nowhere, she tosses the pen beside the sofa.
And shuts the planner with a thump.
“The rest is a secret!”
“What? Why is it a secret?”
“…Women are supposed to have lots of secrets.”
“Even from your husband?”
“Th-that's right!”
If she says so, I don't have anything to worry about.
I… should just worry about going to work tomorrow.