Murderer – Kokonoe Yuuri
–I killed my brother.
The unlocked room, when I turn the doorknob, accepts me without resistance
It let me in easily, as if reflecting my brother’s pure, unstained heart. The thought makes me happy.
Taking great care not to make a sound, I quietly close the door.
In the darkness of the late night, the only sound is the ticking of the second hand marking time.
My brother was fast asleep in the middle of the large bed, breathing steadily and looking very comfortable.
Even our mom, who usually sleeps plastered to him, exercised some restraint for these three days straight it seems.
I’ve been patient, limiting it to twice a week even though I want to sleep together too. Mom does it three times a week. She’s too selfish. Before I knew it, it had become a five day a week system, but he needs private time too.
He’s a boy after all. There must be things he wants to do alone. Mom is insensitive.
There’s the term mama’s boy, but the child who’s most spoiled in our house is Mom. She takes it too far for an adult. Is this how a mother should act? Utterly pitiful.
Mom, who was deeply depressed for a time, is very energetic now. Thanks to Yukito.
I couldn’t do anything. There was nothing I could do. I can only feel grateful he cleared away Mom’s anxieties. But still, I want her to stop clinging to him.
Mom acts innocent but I know she’s actually calculating it all.
How shameless. I have to protect my brother from Mom’s evil hands.
Maybe because the basketball tournament is coming up, he’s been going out a lot even on days off lately. Sometimes I go along, and it seems there’s no particular issue.
There were some irregularities at school too, but overall things seem to be trending in a good direction.
Unlike elementary and middle school where he was always exposed to malice.
You could say I’m worrying too much, but I want him to enjoy high school life without reservations.
I gently sit on the bed so as not to wake him. Then slowly stroke my brother’s head.
“….Does Yukito find me scary?”
I whispered the question. I didn’t have the courage to ask him directly.
Even though our relationship has improved a little, litle resentment must still remains.
My brother gives me presents for whatever reason, which is proof he fears me. He’s trying not to offend me and not make me angry. He’s afraid that one day, I’ll betray his trust again.
Just the other day, he gave me a wood carving made to look like me. I have it displayed in my room, but it freezes me. The stern expression harbored hostility. As if wary of something, glaring.
That must be how he sees me. It’s not an exaggeration at all.
In fact, I normally make expressions like that. My friends say I’m a cold woman.
There’s no need to think about when it started. Yukito stopped smiling.
Surely from then, I couldn’t smile either. Of course. How could I smile blithely in front of my brother? There’s no way I could smile with a face this ugly and dirty.
My brother’s featureless, inorganic room had transformed after the redecorating.
I knew he didn’t want it. Mom and I forced our selfishness on him. I just couldn’t stand looking at it anymore. But still, he accepted it without complaint.
Unlike narrow-minded me, Yukito has great kindness.
I lean forward over him in a pose looking down on my brother.
I slowly bring my trembling hands to rest around his neck.
If I put strength into them now, would Yukito reject me? Hate me so much he’d never forgive me in his life, and unleash that anger at me?
It’s an ugly, sweet wish that could never come true.
“I’m sorry for being your sister…even though I can’t do anything for you, just taking and taking…”
If told to strip naked, I’d take my clothes off immediately. If told to peel off my nails, I’d peel off all the nails on my hands and feet. If told to press a red hot iron against my body, I’d gladly burn this body.
No matter how much punishment I beg for, surely my brother would accept me without resisting, just like this room with no lock. But his forgiveness would rot me.
I search under the bed. I know there’s nothing there. Yes, nothing. What should be there isn’t. There’s only a void that seems to swallow everything.
At his age, it’s natural to be interested in sexual things. One or two naughty books would be fine. Videos might be good nowadays too. But there’s nothing like that.
When I try to seduce him, he always looks away awkwardly. He has normal interest too. He just lacks desire.
He’s popular. It’d be fine if he found and happily with someone. As long as that partner made my brother happy, anyone would do. Even if it was a hated childhood friend, I could tolerate it.
But that childhood friend must be struggling too. No one can reach the place beyond, in his side.
It’s the deep inner part of Yukito’s heart that they can’t do anything about.
I want him to come to like someone. Just that.
What a sinfully selfish wish.
My chest tightens and I calm my ragged breathing.
That day, because I killed my brother, he has an underlying fear of women. His subconscious slams on the brakes. By chance and coincidence, my brother survived after I pushed him off the jungle gym.
That’s just results-oriented thinking. I tried to kill my brother, and he just happened not to die.
I was foolishly happy that my brother lived. Oblivious to my own sin.
It was me who denied him the possibility of liking someone, making it so he couldn’t come to like anyone.
I killed his love.
–That was my second murder.
No matter how I try to approach him, Yukito doesn’t make a move. He can’t make one. Everyone is waiting for it. He knows that, yet his subconscious continues to avoid it.
It’s not endurance or the strongest mental. It’s the fundamental distrust and fear sleeping within Yukito.
If he directs feelings at someone, someday it will become a sharp blade that kills him – that’s what’s engraved in him. He understands it as the law and common sense of his world.
My brother is bright. And excellent. The opposite of dense.
Yet he’ll never be bound to anyone.
I stole away the future where he would find someone he loves and live a happy life.
To like someone, to love a person. I have erased those feelings with these hands.
And I commit further sin.
The words [I hate you] I spat in rejection ruthlessly killed my brother’s heart.
–That was my third murder.
His body, his love, even his heart – I killed them all.
Three times. If you kill three people, you can’t escape the death penalty. I’m suited to be a death row inmate.
Just waiting for my brother to carry out the sentence. My punishment is insufficient.
Yet I also know that punishment will never come down. This shallowness makes me nauseous.
I clench my fists tightly. Even if my brother pardons me, I will never pardon myself.
I will continue hating myself forever, forever.
Today too, I’m allowed to live by my brother’s mercy. If so, I will devote my everything – my life, heart, body, all of it – and live solely for that purpose. Or it won’t be balanced.
My brother probably has no need for such things from a sinner like me. Even if I gave him my wretched all, it wouldn’t begin to atone. Grasping the power over life and death is worthless. But still–
“Love…love you so much…I love you…”
I quietly kiss him. Like a knight swearing fealty, like an ancient witch cursing.
To overwrite that one [hate], I’ll whisper [love] hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times.
I don’t care about my feelings. My emotions don’t matter. I have no need for a future.
The only thing I as a murderess can do, what I must do, is live solely for this child’s sake, for my brother’s happiness – because that is the price I must pay.
I have no hesitation in committing the taboo sacrilege. I am already a murderess.
“But, I don’t want you to get scorned behind your back…”
If there is a fourth murder, it would be socially killing this child.
He makes those around him happy. There are always a lot of people around him, overflowing with smiles.
Even Mom, it’s like the evil spirits left her, she’s become so calm. She laughs a lot now.
It was this child who saved Mom from the abyss of despair when she learned she might have breast cancer.
Warm. Just having him near makes me feel happy.
Unlike me who brings disaster. I can’t drag him down.
Tormented by great contradiction. My resolve is to kill this child. I alone will pay the price.
I will interact with this child once more, so he can come to like women again, no longer have to be afraid.
One-sided is fine. I just one-sidedly love him. I don’t seek even a shred of reciprocation.
I have no right to receive affection from my brother. What a murderess needs is punishment alone.
I bring my face close to my brother’s chest. A strong, powerful pulse. His heart is beating.
“I’m glad…you’re alive today too…”
I’m an atheist, but this is the only time I always thank God.
Somehow, confirming that my brother is alive like this turned into a habit.
Hearing his heartbeat became my only comfort.
My eyelids slowly droop from drowsiness. I doze within my brother’s chest.
Please just for now, only this warmth–
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