August 4, AD 2092

Okinawa

Beach House—Hotel Party Venue

Being on vacation didn’t mean we could completely sever ourselves from the bonds of societal expectation. I’d only just entered middle school, but even in my life, some people were still too important to refuse an invitation from.

The one fortunate thing was that they were all matters related to our family, and there weren’t very many…but it took me completely by surprise to find out that those few people had come to the same place at the same time as us.

Mother’s cousin, Mitsugu Kuroba, had sent the invitation.

The hands on the clock pointed to six PM. We would have to leave the beach house soon.

I sat in front of my dresser and picked up a brush. “Haah…” A sigh leaked from my mouth. My expression in the mirror was one of dull boredom.

The parties themselves I was comfortable enough with. But we’d only arrived in Okinawa from Tokyo this very day. I would have at least liked to relax for tonight.

“Miyuki, have you finished getting ready?”

A knock and a voice from the other side of the door. I’d been dallying in my room, and Miss Sakurai had come to get me.

“Oh! Yes, I have,” I responded, reflexively standing up. If she knew what I’d been thinking, I’d certainly have been in for a scolding.

She interpreted my answer as permission to enter, so she opened the door. I did, in fact, mean it that way, so I wasn’t flustered or anything.

“Oh. You’re already looking put together, aren’t you?” she said, letting a wry smile slip when she saw me. I’d changed into a cocktail dress, put on a hair clip and necklace, and was holding my handbag. “Your wonderful clothing won’t mean very much if you look so sullen.”

Was my face that easy to read? “You could tell?”

Miss Sakurai and I were close, but it was still someone else’s pair of eyes on me. I’d been taking care to keep my displeasure to myself, too.

“Well, I can,” she said, winking somewhat meaningfully at me… Did that mean others wouldn’t have been able to read me?

“Come on… Please don’t tease me,” I said, puffing out a cheek in anger without thinking. I hastily did my best to smooth it over with a more ladylike face.

Miss Sakurai let out a giggle, and I felt my face grow hot. I was already in middle school. I thought I would have stopped acting so childish by now.

“I’m sorry…” she said, continuing to giggle for a short while. Her face didn’t look thirty at all—she barely looked older than twenty. Then her expression suddenly changed.

I felt my own feelings tighten, too.

“But plenty of people have sharper eyes than me,” she said. “I know you well enough to understand you don’t want to do this. But there might be people at the party who can read your expressions at a glance. You’re not an ordinary middle school student, after all, so I think you should try not to show any vulnerability.”

Her advice hit the bull’s-eye. I didn’t even feel like trying to argue. “What should I do?”

“Well, no matter how well you think you’re hiding it, your emotions will still show up in your eyes and at the edges of your face.”

…Did that mean I couldn’t do anything about it?

“What you need, I suppose, is to learn to deceive your own emotions,” she continued, her voice soothing and carefully instructive, probably picking up on my dissatisfaction. “The first person your mask needs to convince is yourself.”

Nevertheless, I was too much of a child to mask my own feelings from others. The closer we got to the party venue, the more my mood soured against my will.

Uncle Mitsugu wasn’t a bad person. (Though, technically, he wasn’t my uncle.) I didn’t know if it was because his wife had passed away at a young age, but the way he fawned over his children was a little—no, quite annoying.

I swear. Why does he always brag about his own children to another child? Well, I’m sure he’s not thinking about how I feel. I just wish he’d keep that stuff between adults.

I let a sigh fall from my mouth—an intentional one, actually. If I didn’t get the sighs out while I could, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to endure the actual party.

We were already on the hotel grounds. From here, we could see the uselessly extravagant—from my point of view anyway—entrance.

Our self-driving commuter vehicle came to a stop. My brother stepped out, motions crisp, before holding open the door, waiting for me to get out. I hardened my expression, then set foot onto a boring battlefield of melancholy.

My hard-faced uncle and my older male cousins were in the lobby, as well as my dignified-looking older female cousins. They were all trying not to stand out, but I’d known these people ever since I was born, so it would take more than that to deceive my eyes. Their behavior had nothing to do with me, but it made me want to tell them they needed more practice.

Of course, in the same way, my brother wasn’t the only one I’d brought tonight, either. A nationwide security company had temporarily issued a pair of female bodyguards for me. There were many places, like parties, where men wouldn’t be able to accompany me, and it was nighttime, as well. Miss Sakurai was usually with me, but she was at Mother’s side right now.

Mother had a somewhat frail constitution, so she was still resting at the beach house. There was nothing I could do about that, but it meant I’d have to talk with Uncle Mitsugu by myself.

This was depressing.

If I couldn’t rely on my own father to begin with, my older brother should have been the one in these conversations—not me, the younger sister. I glared bitterly at his back as he walked ahead of me.

“Thank you very much for inviting us, Uncle Mitsugu.”

In the predictably enormous party hall with predictably extravagant tables in front of us, my uncle, dressed in an expensive suit, predictably came to welcome me. I gave him the archetypal greeting. There was no point in seeking originality in matters such as these.

“I’m so glad you came, Miyu,” my uncle replied in an excessively friendly manner. “How is your mother doing?”

Uncle Mitsugu was the only person who still called me Miyu, my childhood nickname. And he refused to comment on my brother, also like always. Of course, all he was doing was standing behind me silently. They were both at fault.

“Thank you for your consideration,” I replied. “I believe she is just a little tired, so she decided to play it safe for today.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he said. “Whoops, let’s not stand around here. Let’s go in. Ayako and Fumiya have been dying to see you again, Miyu.”

So, they’re here, I thought. Of course they would be. Despite having warned myself so much beforehand, I came dangerously close to heaving a sigh.

My uncle led me to one of the tables near the back. My brother remained at the entrance. Waiting by the wall was customary bodyguard behavior. It got on my nerves more than it should have to see others treat him on the same level as a servant, even though I did the same thing—probably because I was selfish.

That aside, I was now stranded without any support, forced to talk to the Kuroba family.

“Ayako, Fumiya, how have you been?” I asked.

They both smiled in their usual way, Fumiya happily and Ayako as though she’d been waiting for the question.

“Miyuki! It’s been so long.”

“I’m glad to see you haven’t changed, either, Miyuki.”

Ayako and Fumiya were both one school year below me—sixth graders in elementary school. Unlike my brother and I, they were actually twins. However, since I was born in March, and the two of them in June, we were the same age.

I wasn’t sure if that was why Ayako had always felt a sense of rivalry toward me… Another reason I found it annoying being around them. Fumiya was their succession candidate, not her. I honestly didn’t understand what she stood to gain from acting so competitive.

Fumiya was cute, since he didn’t hide the fact that he loved me. Maybe it was a little too cute for a boy. Compared to my brother, he was just so… No, I suppose my brother was the exception.

Their clothes today were, once again, far too cute. I had to struggle to keep my facial muscles in check.

Fumiya, I know they have the air-conditioning on, but it’s still summer. Aren’t you hot in that? His outfit was a mess jacket plus a cummerbund, albeit casually arranged… This was a private party, so it still seemed like it was going too far.

Ayako, on the other hand… Well, she looked the same as always, I supposed. A dress garnished with ribbons, frills, and decorative buttons aplenty; socks that reached above her knees; and slip-ons also accented with ribbons. A headband lined with frills sat atop her neatly curled hair. I wasn’t going to complain about someone else’s hobbies, but the getup didn’t seem fitting for a summer resort.

They were both happy to wear them (and their father happy to let them), so none of that was any of my business.

As I was trying to escape reality by thinking about their clothing, Uncle kept on bragging. I waited for time to pass, nodding along to stories I didn’t care about—Ayako winning a piano recital, Fumiya’s equestrian teacher praising him, things of that nature. I always started to wonder what I’d done to deserve this, but fortunately, I never had to endure it for very long. And Fumiya, as usual, began to fidget.

“By the way, Miyuki…where might Tatsuya be?”

Told you. Fumiya was a really good kid and loved me as though I were his real sister, just like Ayako. But he loved my brother even more—in fact, some might say he revered him. Or maybe adored was the proper word. Of course, I understood his feelings to an extent.

In a general sense—at least, insofar as the judgment baselines set by the Magic Association went—my brother hadn’t been blessed with magical talent. However, he had the brains, the physique, and a special ability to make up for all that and more. His grades in school were far and away the best. No matter the sport, he was always one of the most skilled, if not the best by a mile. And he had a trump card all his own—one that could be the bane of all magicians.

My brother was probably a lot like the fictional heroes that boys looked up to. Actually, I was sure it wasn’t only boys, either. His outward kindness, his calmness, and his gentle features weren’t important to me, but he was really cool, and…

…Wait, what the heck am I thinking?! He’s nothing more than my bodyguard. We just happen to be siblings. Why, that almost sounds like a brother complex or something!

“He’s waiting over there,” I said, pointing toward the wall and putting a lot of effort into smiling, lest they catch on to the dark clouds rushing into my mind.

“Oh,” said Fumiya, blushing. It looked like I’d fooled him.

“…Um, which direction again?”

As Fumiya’s eyes wandered, partly to evade my own and partly to look for my brother, Ayako glanced about the walls as well, feigning indifference. It was funny to me how easy her attitude was to read, and my lips accidentally turned up. She seemed to think I was smiling at her brother, though. As she kept up her disinterested charade, I pointed out where my brother was standing to Fumiya.

He was looking this way.

“Tatsuya!” Fumiya’s face sparkled, and he trotted over to my brother.

“You’re impossible sometimes,” complained Ayako, nevertheless quickly following on his heels. She looked like she was taking great care not to break out into a run.

My uncle watched all this with a sour face like he always did. He started after Ayako—slowly, unlike his children—and I followed him.

Fumiya began frantically telling my brother about something. He nodded a few times, and then the corners of his lips turned up a little, and his teeth peeked out, and…was that a smile?

My brother?

Not a smirk or a dry grin—a normal smile?

But why…?

He’s never smiled like that at me before…!

“Come on, you two,” said Uncle Mitsugu. “It’s rude to get in the way of Tatsuya’s job.”

While I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep the polite smile on my face, my uncle had on a perfectly natural grin. I couldn’t see his true feelings in it at all.

“It looks like you’re doing your duty quite well,” he continued to Tatsuya.

“Thank you, sir,” said my brother, turning to our uncle. He had returned to how he usually looked. His expression from a moment ago had vanished into a mask of impassivity.

“Oh, but, Father, a short while must be fine,” insisted Ayako. “We invited Miyuki to be our guest today, and it’s the host’s job to ensure the safety of our guests. I don’t think Tatsuya will have anything to do as long as he’s here.”

“Ayako’s right,” piped in Fumiya. “The Kuroba guards are certainly good enough to make sure one person gets kept safe. Right, Dad?”

Oh? Fumiya doesn’t call him Father anymore… It didn’t matter, but it made me wonder—and thanks to that, I could push the rest of my emotions out of the picture.

My thoughts aside, Uncle Mitsugu fumbled for words. “You’re right, but…” he started, face troubled. I knew how he really felt, and Ayako and Fumiya probably did, too. He didn’t appreciate how friendly his children were with my brother, especially Fumiya.

Fumiya was a candidate to be the next leader of the Yotsuba. My brother was a mere escort of mine, and I was a candidate as well. His special title of Guardian meant that he was truly just a servant—and, at worst, no more than a disposable tool. You couldn’t inherit the Yotsuba without being able to think of them that way.

Of course, for tonight he was my escort, and he and Fumiya were merely cousins. There really wasn’t any problem with Fumiya liking him. The same went for Ayako. If she liked my brother, no matter what kind of friendliness she showed him, there was no particular issue. Aunt Maya probably wouldn’t care about something like that.

To be perfectly harsh, Uncle Mitsugu cared only about outward appearances. He didn’t see my brother as any more than a servant, a tool to use and throw away as needed. In that sense, Uncle was a Yotsuba through and through. He must have deemed it unsightly for his own children to have any feelings for a tool.

That was the natural way of our family. And in order for me to become Miyuki Yotsuba, I would have to keep the same attitude. He was my Guardian before he was my brother. A bodyguard. A shield who, if it came to it, would throw away his life to protect mine.

It was only right I should have no love for a tool, and it also wasn’t his place to show me any affection.

That was what I told myself. I repeated it over and over, like a mantra.

My brother was a bodyguard.

A shield to protect me.

That was the duty given to him. I had to follow in the footsteps of Aunt Maya. Tatsuya wasn’t my brother but rather—

Suddenly, I felt a pinprick deep within my mind. I was pretty sure that I lost track of where I was for a moment. That was just an illusion, of course. I’d been invited to Uncle Mitsugu’s party, and there he was, making a difficult face.

…Was I thinking about something important…? No, it’s probably just my imagination.

“…Fumiya, you shouldn’t worry your father so much.”

Surprisingly, my brother was the one who helped Uncle Mitsugu. He called Fumiya by name. He said it filled with affection, as if he was his own brother.

I felt a slight throbbing in the back of my head. I wanted to scowl in discomfort. But I couldn’t. If I showed any displeasure right now, Uncle Mitsugu might misunderstand it as dissatisfaction with his treatment of my brother.

…But would it be a misunderstanding…?

No, stop, I can’t think about that! Um, what was the best thing to do at times like these again?

Miss Sakurai had taught me something just before I left. Yes—I needed to be able to fool my own emotions…

“Mr. Kuroba, may I leave the venue in your hands?” my brother requested. “I’d like to go and look around for a bit.”

“Oh, you do?” replied our uncle, making an exaggerated show of surprise, then purposely praised him. “What an admirable attitude,” he said. “All right. You can leave Miyuki to us. I’ll take responsibility here for a while.”

I knew he could give as much fake praise as he needed to. He’d been wanting to get rid of a certain person, and they just gave him a good excuse to do it.

A truly convenient mask.

The first person your mask needs to convince is yourself.

…My brother was faithfully trying to carry out the role assigned to him.

“But we’re going back to Shizuoka tomorrow!” complained Fumiya. “We barely ever get to see him, and now we can’t even talk to him for very long?”

“Fumiya, please calm down…” said Ayako. “Tatsuya, he’s right about that—so please come back soon, okay?”

“All right,” replied my brother. “I’ll go around once and then return. Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Kuroba.”

…I, too, needed to do my best to carry out the role assigned to me.

That was what I told myself as I listened to Fumiya’s objection, Ayako’s request, and my brother’s kind reply.