44 Thank you - My Little Sister Is Only Ever Cold to Me, Yet Recently She’s Been Strangely Clingy

Chapter 44: Thank You My room feels unusually spacious. Ren had been hanging around all the time lately, even when I slept, so I wasn't used to being alone. I couldn't focus on my schoolwork, and when I tried reading, the words just slipped past my eyes. Besides taking care of housework, I struggled to figure out how to spend time alone. I've been constantly distracted by my smartphone, which I don't usually use much. It's still sitting on my desk, its screen dark and without any notification sounds. I pick it up almost absentmindedly, open the messages app, but still, no messages have arrived. She's probably practicing late, and even if she's back at the dormitory, she's likely with her friends, so she probably doesn't have time to contact me. I tell myself this to find some comfort. As the setting sun filters through the curtains, it hits my downcast cheeks. Slowly, I get up and leave the room to prepare dinner. While I'm cooking dinner, Mom comes home early—it seems her work finished early because it's Saturday. So, for the first time in a while, we cooked together and sat down at the table to eat. The table is set with teriyaki chicken, two bowls of rice, and miso soup. It's enough for the two of us. I'm happy to eat dinner with Mom, but at the same time, I'm keenly aware of Ren’s absence. I say "Let's eat" with a loud voice, as if to blow away something intruding in my heart. Mom’s voice overlaps with mine. Then, I savor the teriyaki chicken. The meat is grilled to perfection, and the sweet and savory sauce makes it delicious. I think to myself, "Ren would like this flavor too," and realize that I had unconsciously adjusted the taste to suit what Ren would like. Now that we're apart, I realize again just how significant Ren is to me—even more so than when she distanced herself from me during her rebellious phase. Of course, Ren has always been a precious little sister to me, but now it's as if there's something more added to that. It's like an increase in mass, sinking with its weight, deepening, and making me wonder what's beyond this depth. As I’m pondering these things in a daze, Mother's voice unexpectedly touches me. "Do you miss Ren?" "...Yeah." "I thought so." Mom gives me an innocent smile, like a mischievous child. That smile was, as expected, very similar to Ren's, though I haven't seen on Ren’s face for a long time now. "How did you know?" "What I’m about to tell you, keep it a secret from Ren." Mom places her index finger to her lips, and though perplexed by this sudden secrecy, I nod. She whispers softly with a gentle smile. "When Ren was going through her rebellious phase and acting tough with you, she'd often have a similar expression on her face." This little secret Mom shares leaves me wide-eyed. With a distant look, Mom continues speaking. "She's at a delicate age, so I chose not to say anything. But I could tell right away that Ren was feeling lonely deep inside. She kept watching you, hardly ever looking at me, often lost in thought. In my eyes, even if she seemed cold, she still loved her big sister just as much as before." "I see." This is undoubtedly a secret I can't share with Ren. I feel a bit guilty for hearing this while Ren isn't around, but it also makes me happy and a bit embarrassed. "And so," Mom says, genuinely pleased, "I’m thrilled to see you two getting along again lately. Ren's expression is still a bit stiff, but it's so much different from when she was in her rebellious phase—she seems to be having fun every day." Mom's expression radiates happiness as she speaks. Then, while still smiling, she gently envelopes my loneliness with her next words. "Ai, thank you. For always being there for Ren, for cherishing her more than I could. For always staying by her side. Ai, you’re so kind and hardworking. So, when you feel lonely, it's okay to lean on others too." Mom's hand gently touches my head. Her palm, warm and large, strokes my hair tenderly. "Thank you." I murmur softly, like a little child. What fills my heart is a mix of relief, joy, embarrassment, and guilt. It's a different kind of guilt than from the secret conversation with Mom, yet it's somehow connected, a sense of shame. I pretend not to notice the faint yet dark feelings lurking beneath these fluffy emotions, choosing instead to embrace her comforting warmth. Soon after, Mom's hand leaves. Embarrassed by the uncharacteristic length of her serious talk, she shifts the conversation back to our usual lighthearted topics. We talk about her work, my school life, and let the lively, peaceful time flow. After finishing dinner, I return to my room. In the darkness, the screen of my smartphone glows. Quickly, I turn on the light and rush over to my desk. And when I see what's displayed on the screen, I can't believe my eyes.