Onii-chan met Mom yesterday.
I wasn't home when it happened. I was out with the girls, trying to act like everything in my life was normal. But later that night he texted me.
His messages were short.
The way he talks when he's trying really hard not to feel anything.
He told me Mom… kind of used me.
Not in some horrible, dramatic way.
Just… to get a reaction out of him.
And the worst part?
He wasn't even angry about it.
Just tired.
"I know you two had your Ladies Alliance thing going," he wrote,
"but I unblocked you. You apologized. You came to my show.
That's not the same as thinking money fixes everything."
I stared at the screen for a long time after that.
He wasn't wrong.
He wasn't even being mean.
He was just… saying it the way it was. Like he'd already taken all his feelings, sorted them into little boxes, and closed the lids.
Then he mentioned how Mom paid for his school trip.
And right after that—almost like it was nothing—he added:
"So I paid for the pastries. Even tipped the waiter.
750¥.
3000 in total."
No bragging.
No bitterness.
Just numbers.
Like he was quietly proving something without actually saying it.
Like he wanted me to understand that he's not a kid Mom can buy things for anymore.
He already showed me that once.
The day we met in front of the Matsumoto Castle… when he handed me a 10.000¥ bill like it was nothing.
I can almost hear his voice when I read his messages. Calm. Flat. Impossible to read.
And somehow… that hurts more than if he'd yelled.
Because when Onii-chan sounds numb, it means he's still protecting himself.
Still keeping some distance.
Still not sure if he can trust us.
But he answered me.
He told me what happened.
He didn't shut me out.
And for Onii-chan…
that's already huge.
I stared at the message for a second, then started typing.
"Thanks for telling me, Onii-chan. I really mean that."
I paused, chewing on my lip before adding another line.
"And… I'm glad you didn't make a scene with Mom. I know it probably wasn't easy."
Another pause.
"I'm really happy you two at least talked."
He stopped typing for a few minutes.
Then…
"C'mon. What did you think I'd do—flip the table and storm out?"
"Relax. I can behave in public."
"Still… I appreciate the effort. You two remembering I exist now and all. 🙃"
It stung.
I bit my lip and stared at the screen for a second before replying.
"It's more… the other way around, Onii-chan."
"We've been trying to reach you for years. 😔💔"
A pause.
Then the typing bubble appeared again.
"Yeah, well… guess I wanted to prove something first before I listened to you."
"Kind of hard to hear people out when the last thing they told you was to be realistic.
So… congrats. You're talking to the unrealistic version now. 💀"
I frowned at the screen.
He said it like a joke.
But it didn't really feel like one.
I typed slowly.
"Onii-chan… we never wanted you to stop dreaming. 😔
We were just scared for you. 🥺"
I hesitated, then added one more line.
"But I'm really proud of you now. 😌💖"
His reply came quickly.
"Thanks, Kaede. 🖤
Anyway—tomorrow I'm coming by to grab the rest of my stuff.
Guess that counts as a family reunion these days. 🙃"
I blinked at the screen.
Typical Onii-chan. Turning something big into a joke so it wouldn't feel big.
My fingers moved before I could overthink it.
"I can't wait to see you, Onii-chan."
"Really." ❤️
He replied instantly.
"Me too, Kaede… I kinda missed you. 😅🖤"
I stared at the message for a second.
That was it. No joke after it. No sarcastic comment to soften it.
Just… that.
My chest felt warm all of a sudden, and I quickly typed back before I could start overthinking it.
"I missed you too, Onii-chan. ❤️"
I tucked my phone into my pocket, a small smile lingering as Mom's voice floated up the stairs.
"Kaede, dinner is ready, sweetheart!"
"Coming, Mom!" I called back, still feeling that warmth in my chest.
It was probably stupid to be this happy over one message… but I couldn't help it.
I headed downstairs.
Mom was in the kitchen, wiping the counter even though it was already clean. She always did that when she was nervous. Or thinking too much. Or both.
Dinner was already laid out on the table—grilled salmon, miso soup steaming in small bowls, rice in the big pot, and a little plate of pickled vegetables.
"Mom?" I said quietly.
She looked up right away. "Yes, sweetheart?"
I hesitated, twisting the hem of my shirt between my fingers.
"Can we… talk? About Onii-chan."
Her hands froze for a second.
Just a second.
But I saw it.
"Of course," she said, trying to sound calm. "Sit down."
I slid into my seat. She stayed standing for a moment longer before finally sitting across from me.
I picked up my chopsticks, poking at the rice without really eating.
"Onii-chan told me what happened yesterday."
Mom's shoulders stiffened.
"I see."
"He said you… mentioned me. To get him to react."
She closed her eyes briefly, like she was bracing for something.
"I did," she said quietly. "I told him it's not fair to you. I told him you miss him."
I took a small bite of rice, chewing slowly.
"He said it felt like manipulation."
Mom flinched. Not dramatically—just enough that I knew the word hit.
"I wasn't trying to manipulate him," she said quickly. "I just… didn't know how to reach him anymore."
She wrapped her hands around her bowl of soup but didn't drink it.
"Every time I thought about calling, I imagined him hanging up. Or worse… sounding polite."
She said polite like it was the worst thing in the world.
And honestly?
For Onii-chan… it kind of is.
"You could've just said you missed him," I said softly, taking a bite of salmon this time.
Mom let out a shaky breath.
"I did. I'm afraid he didn't believe me."
I looked at her—really looked at her.
She didn't look strong or composed or perfect like she always tried to be.
She looked tired.
Scared.
Guilty.
And suddenly the dinner table felt really quiet except for the soft click of chopsticks against plates.
"Did he yell at you?," I asked.
She shook her head. "No. He was calm. Too calm. Like he'd practiced every sentence before saying it."
Yeah. That sounded like him.
"He's still protecting himself," I murmured.
"I know," Mom said. "And I don't blame him."
There was a long pause.
Then I said, "He's coming tomorrow. To pick up the rest of his stuff."
Mom's breath caught. "He… he is?"
"Yeah."
She looked like she didn't know whether to smile or cry.
I leaned forward a little.
"Mom… don't pretend everything's okay. He hates that."
Her shoulders dropped, like she'd been waiting for someone to tell her exactly what not to do.
"I won't," she said. "I promise."
"And…" I hesitated, then forced myself to say it. "Don't use me again. If you want to talk to him, talk to him. Not through me."
Mom's expression cracked — not with tears, but with understanding.
"You're right," she said softly. "I'm sorry. I won't do that again."
I nodded, relieved.
I stood up, but paused in the doorway.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"He said he missed me."
Her eyes widened just a little. "That's… good, Kaede."
I smiled — small, but real.
"Yeah. It is."
Then I went upstairs, heart still racing in my chest, knowing tomorrow was going to be… a lot.
But for the first time in a long time, I wasn't scared of it.