Chapter 136: Photograph

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Translator: Soafp

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“So, this is a picture of Kanon when she was one year old.”

And thus, I find myself looking through Kisaragi-san’s photo album, which is undoubtedly worth at least a hundred million yen.

To be honest, I had a bit of confidence in this rather mundane activity. 

At first, I had some misunderstandings, but now…

“And this is when Kanon said her first words.”

“So cute~”

“So cute (arrest me now).”

That’s right, little sisters are precious, especially when they’re young. 

And it’s human nature to want to brag about them.

“Well—my sister isn’t one to lose, either (smug face).”

“Uwa, is this your sister, Icchi!?”

“She’s so cute…”

“Hahaha (basking in the glory of my sister’s light).”

Yes, the album in my hands now contains photos of me (trash) and my sister (goddess) from when we were younger.

It’s not like I’m some sister-obsessed weirdo collecting her pictures. 

Our parents just loved taking pictures of us, and that resulted in a massive collection of albums. 

The ones that didn’t make it to their shelves ended up in my room, which is why I have this one.

In fact, this is my first time actually seeing this album. 

I knew it existed, but I never bothered to look at it until now. 

Normally, in day-to-day life, you don’t really look at stuff like this.

“So, your sister’s hair is brown?”

“Yeah, that’s right~”

“My mom’s natural hair color is brown, so I think she inherited it.”

“Ho~”

A born extrovert. 

No doubt about it, she must be my sister… Wait, is she really my sister? (suddenly insecure).

“So.”

“Hm?”

“Where are you, Icchi?”

“Eh?”

“Yeah, I don’t see you anywhere, Toumachi-kun.”

“Where are you~?”

… 

Right. This album is probably about 80% pictures of my sister.

But it's not like it's some sad story where I didn't get any love from my parents. 

My mom was super doting—almost too much.

The problem… was with me.

“Well, you see… when I was a kid, I was terrified of having a camera pointed at me…”

“Eh, really?”

“Haha, that's very much like you, Toumachi-kun.”

“But! I'm sure there's one somewhere—”

“Oh… here it is.”

And there it was. 

A photo of me, around five years old, bawling my eyes out while facing the camera.

What were my parents even thinking taking this shot? (outraged).

I wasn't a spectacle for them to watch! (tears). 

I was born an introvert! (sobbing).

“That's so adorable!!!”

“So cute.”

“P-please stop… (dying inside).”

“More! More pictures!!”

“Haha.”

They flipped through the album faster now, revealing more and more memories from my childhood that I'd long since forgotten.

“Look at Icchi's sleeping face! It's so cute!”

“See? Kanon's got some competition.”

“T-thanks (so embarrassed).”

Kindergarten, then elementary school. First grade, second grade, third grade.

I finally got over my fear of the camera and became comfortable with being in photos. 

It's strange, really—once you stop being afraid of something, it's hard to remember why you were scared in the first place.

But… my photos pretty much end there. 

From that point on, it's mostly my sister's pictures.

“—Ah. Yeah, it's all my sister's photos after this.”

“Eh, it ends here?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Just when you stopped crying in the photos~”

“Don't be greedy, Momo.”

“Well, actually, even around this time, I was still pretty scared… My parents just finally gave up on taking pictures of me, haha…”

It was probably around this time that being alone started to become difficult for me. 

It was also around this time that I started to dislike cameras for a whole different reason.

[—”Hajime-Nii, why don't you go play with your friends?”—]

A photo of my sister, surrounded by people, brought back the distant echoes of a voice from long ago.

Light and shadow.

A clear divide between me and Nina.

“Icchi?”

“Oh, uh. I’d like to see some pictures of Kisaragi-san and Hatsune-san too.”

“Eh~”

“I’ve got some special ones of Momo, you know.”

“W-Wait!”

As my gaze drifted downward, something caught my eye. 

Kisaragi-san was proudly holding up photos of Kanon-chan.

“…She’s so cute.”

In the picture, there was a tiny Hatsune-san. Surprisingly, she was even smaller than Kisaragi-san standing next to her—completely the opposite of now!

Her hair was long, totally different from the short bob she has now. 

Her cheeks were rosy. 

And her eyes… sparkling.

“Is this from a school play?”

“Yes! It's from third grade, when she played a princess in the school play.”

“(Is she an angel?)”

“Isn't she adorable?”

“Stop it~~!!!”

With a thud, the photo album was shut. 

But mercilessly, it was reopened right away.

“And here's Momo in a raincoat, even though it wasn't raining.”

“Wha—this is… (speechless)”

“She had just gotten a new one and was so excited she couldn't stop showing it off.”

“Yabai (loss of words).”

“That's enough, please!!”

The album closed, then opened again. Despite her protests, the photos of them remained as bright and joyful as ever.

They must have been close friends since they were little. 

They had spent years like this, sharing memories together.

“I… want to see more.”

I whispered.

These photos were snapshots of moments that could never be relived. 

No matter how much I thought about them, they were gone.

But while the past was important, the present was what mattered. 

Still, there was something so heartwarming about looking at the childhood of my dear friends.

Even though I wasn't a part of their past, it was because of it that I could be here with them now.

“Ugh, I don't want this~~!”

“You don't seem too determined to stop me, though.”

“Th-that's not true…”

I smiled as I watched the two of them laugh and argue. 

If my sister hadn't been there, I wouldn't have gone to my current high school.

Naturally, that means I wouldn't have met them, either.

“Next, we're going back to your picture, Icchi!”

“But we just looked at it, didn't we?”

“It's not like it'll wear out. It's fine!”

“Ehh…”

And so, the night continued to drift by, with the shining photos in hand.

“Ugh, I'm getting sleepy (escape mode).”

“Ahh, don't run away!”

“Waa, it's already midnight…”