Chikasugiru Karera no, Juunanasai no Tooi Kankei [LN] V1 Chapter 4.2

Chapter 4 - Inside her room

The three of us played games for about 30 minutes, and then Izumi said she would call her mother and go back to her room. I, along with my brother, headed upstairs to my room.

"I'm tired."

When we entered my room, my brother sat down on the bed and said so. I sat down in the desk chair positioned facing him.

I muttered, "I think it was the first time I had ever seen Izumi so excited," to which my brother replied in surprise, "Is that so?".

"I think she is still shy. Compared to when we first started, she seems to be getting used to it these days."

"I see. But it's great that she's trying to adapt to the sudden change of environment."

"Yeah," I nodded, and my brother looked at me and said,

"But it looks like you did pretty well, too."

"Eh?"

"Because you were able to get along with that girl a lot. You're pretty shy. I was worried that if you ignored Rina-chan, things would get awkward at home, but I'm glad to see that you were able to communicate well with her."

"...... I didn't actively talk to her or anything. Rather, Izumi often talked to me."

"I see. Well, I'm glad to hear you guys are doing well. ---But seriously, don't you ever get h*rny? I'm being rather serious."

He asked me with a really serious face. I wonder what in the world is serious to this person.

"No, never."

"......I'm worried in a different way when you answer me that immediately. Are you okay as a man?"

"Not all men are like you, Ryuu-kun."

I tried to cover it up with a wry smile, but to be honest, it's not like there were never any moments like that. At first, it was hard to suppress my bad fantasies, especially when I was taking a bath after Izumi had entered the bathtub.

Trying to avoid continuing to talk about Izumi, I sat back in my chair and changed the topic.

"By the way, mom said we're going to visit dad's grave, so if you want to come, you should clear your schedule."

When I said this, my brother nodded his head and muttered, "Is it that time already?"

My father died three years ago in August when I was in the second year of junior high school. It was due to a sudden stroke while he was on a plane to attend a conference.

My father had published several technical books and occasionally wrote commentaries in newspapers, but he was not so famous as a so-called "public speaker" and was a professor at a private university.

However, one time he appeared on TV and made a statement about a social issue that was hot at the time, and was temporarily bashed severely by people with different arguments. According to my mother, there was nothing too extreme and no real damage, but at the time he seemed to be under a lot of stress, both physically and mentally.

Although we do not know the consequence clearly now, I think it must have had some influence on my father's health condition, which had always been high blood pressure.

On the day my parents returned to this house in the provincial city where they were born, after a funeral service attended by relatives and friends of my father's when he was young, and after his ashes were placed in the grave of my father's family, my brother carried the books in my father's reading room, which is now my mother's workroom, like ants to his own room. Most of the books that now make up the interior of my room are part of that collection.

For the next year, until he left home, my brother spent all the time at home reading books. It was as if he was taking books from my father's library into his own head. Even while we were eating, he had a book in his hand, and as a junior high school student, I was worried that he had lost his mind. Almost every day, he carried a different book. In addition to Japanese and English, there was even a book in French (my brother was in the department of French literature at the time). At a terrifying pace, he was chipping away at the wall-like piles of books my father had left behind. I had always thought he was quite a brilliant man, but his concentration at that moment was overwhelming.

Two years later, my brother, who had left home, suddenly told mom about his plans to go on to higher education, along with a report that he had passed the graduate school exam.

From my mother's point of view, she probably had a strong desire to stop her son from choosing the same direction in life as my father. My mother told him that going on to graduate school in the humanities was not a wise choice unless he was very talented and that she wanted him to go straight to work for a general company, but he refused to listen and forcefully decided on his own career path.

"After all, did dad influence you to decide to go on to higher education and do philosophy?"

When I asked him, he laughed briefly.

"I'd like to say no, but I guess it's impossible to say that he didn't influence me at all. But I have always been interested in philosophy. Even in high school, I would read books like Karatani Koujin and Yoshimoto Takaaki behind his back."

T/N : both are Japanese philosophers and literary critics.

"Why did you hide...."

"I was embarrassed. I thought people would say, 'Student from how many decades ago were you.' I liked to read books by myself, so I didn't want to be bothered by someone who knows it all."

"Hee-- I didn't expect that. I didn't know you had that side of you."

"......You, what do you think I am..."

"Flashy guy."

When I said this, my brother laughed brightly and said, "You idiot," Even when he uses abusive language, the way he says it is frank and his smile is refreshing, so it doesn't give a bad impression. I thought that this kind of feeling must be what makes people like him. And then, just a moment ago, the part where he was talking with Izumi in a friendly manner came back to my mind, and I felt that unidentifiable heartache again.

Before long, my brother got up from the bed where he was sitting.

"Then I' m going to go home. I have a book I have to read this week."

"Ah, yeah. Okay."

We left the room and headed downstairs. As we went downstairs, Izumi also came out of her room.

"Ryuuichi-san, are you leaving?"

Izumi hurried down the stairs and called out to my brother, who was putting on his shoes in front of the entrance. He replied with his usual cheerful, flashy guy-like expression, as if he had nothing profound on his mind, "Yes."

"I'll come to visit you again. Let's all go somewhere together during the summer break. I have a driver's license, so I can take you anywhere you want to go."

"Really? I'm looking forward to it."

Izumi replied happily to my brother's suggestion. During this night, Izumi had also become completely let her guard down.

We stood side by side and watched my brother put on his shoes at the entrance.

"See you then, Rina-chan, Kenichi."

"Yeah."

Izumi gave a small wave across her face and I also raised one hand. Just before he walked out the door, my brother looked at me and sent me a frivolous smile, "See you later."

With a slam, the door closed and silence descended. Our hands, which had been raised, also fall.

"....... Somehow, it's getting lonely in the house," Izumi said, staring at the front door.

"Is that so?" Izumi turned her eyes toward me as if she were peeping at me.

"Hey Kenichi, I want to play the game again."

"Then, let's do that."

I nodded and Izumi and I headed for the living room. We turned on the game console and sat down on the sofa side by side. The quiet house began to echo with the lively sound of the game.

I taught Izumi how to operate the console. Izumi, holding the controller, was as excited as a child who has been given a new toy. It was her first time playing a video game, and she seemed to be quite addicted to it. I was a little worried that my crude living environment might have a bad influence on Izumi, who apparently grew up in a nice all-girls school.

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