Knock.
Knock…
Knock…..
Three soft taps at the door.
I shove the diary under the pillow like a guilty child and wipe my face.
My hands are shaking.
Kiyomi (from the hallway, voice still raspy from the fever)
Kiyoshi…?
Can I come in?
Before I can answer the door slides open a crack.
She's wearing an oversized yukata patterned with morning glories, hair tied up messily, cheeks still flushed but eyes bright.
She peers into the darkness, spots me sitting on the floor surrounded by moonlight and secrets.
Kiyomi
Hey.
The fireworks festival is tomorrow night.
Everyone from class is going.
Yui-chan asked if we wanted to meet her there…She trails off, waiting.
I don't even think about it.
Kiyoshi
Yeah.
Let's go.
Silence.
Kiyomi's eyes go wide (actually wide), like I just grew a second head.
Kiyomi
…Wait.
You're… you're saying yes?
I nod.
She steps fully into the room now, barefoot, clutching the doorframe.
Kiyomi (voice small, almost scared)
You've never said yes.
Not once.
Not to festivals, not to school trips, not even to the convenience store when I begged for taiyaki.
You always said "I have work" or "I'm tired" or just… nothing.
She stares at me like she's looking for the trap.
Kiyomi
Original Kiyoshi didn't leave this room unless someone dragged him out with a chain.
He didn't go to school half the time (forged absence notes like it was nothing).
He kept the attendance record just high enough that no one asked questions.
Her fingers tighten on the wood.
Kiyomi
So why now?
I force a smile.
It feels foreign on my face (on this face).
Kiyoshi
Because you asked.
She keeps staring.
Searching.
The fever makes her eyes glassy, but they're sharp underneath.
For a second I think she's going to ask about the gun she must have known was here.
About the badges.
About the diary.
About the brother who came back wrong.
But she doesn't.
She just swallows, nods once, and the smile that breaks across her face is fragile and beautiful and terrified all at once.
Kiyomi
Okay.
Tomorrow night, then.
I'll… I'll pick out your yukata.
The dark blue one, I think.
It'll look good.
She backs out of the room slowly, like she's afraid if she turns away I'll change my mind.
The door slides shut.
I'm alone again with the gun, the badges, the unbreakable diary, and the ghost of a boy who never would have said yes.
I pick up the diary again.
Run my thumb over the elastic band.
Tomorrow night there will be fireworks.
There will be crowds and cotton candy and Yui in a yukata and Kiyomi laughing beside me.
And for one evening I will pretend I belong in this body.
I will pretend the codes don't matter.
I will pretend I'm allowed to be the brother she's been waiting for.
I open the diary to a blank page near the back (one of the few left).
With shaking fingers I write a single line in plain, unencoded Japanese.
I don't know who you were.
But tomorrow I'm going to try to be someone she can keep.
I close it.
Slide it back under the pillow next to the gun.
Then I sit in the dark and wait for morning,
counting down the hours until I step into a life that was never meant for me,
and pray the real Kiyoshi doesn't come back to take it all away.