Hoshino's POV:
An uncomfortable silence filled the room. The soft rustle of Dad's clothes as he shifted in his seat and the subtle creak of the floorboards as Mom remained completely still rang out loud and clear.
I was the only one who didn't make a single sound, blending in perfectly in the background. As if I were one with the air itself.
In the midst of that stillness, the sound of muffled crying in the direction of the front door cut through the silence. The atmosphere grew heavier, becoming an almost unbearable weight that threatened to crush my chest. Dad put his hands in front of his face and let out a deep sigh. Mom, however, clenched her fists and stared in the direction of the front door, a vein throbbing on her forehead.
Before she could do anything else, I quickly stood up, grabbed my bag, and walked in front of her.
...How can Mom still choose to fight after all this?
A slight sense of annoyance gnawed at my mind. I always found it insane just how much pride this woman had. There really wasn't anyone else close to her.
Taking a deep, quiet breath, I erased all traces of feeling inside of me, leaving behind nothing but a blank face.
Then, I looked behind me and put on a gentle smile. "Don't worry about it. I'll handle it. Just enjoy whatever's left of your morning."
The words slipped out so easily, even if they were nothing but a lie. "I'll handle it."? I had no clue how I was even supposed to do that. Much less if I even had the right to. "Enjoy whatever's left of your morning."? After the show Mom just put up for us, I'd rather they didn't.
After readjusting my bag, I headed towards the door. At first, it felt far away, almost out of reach. Like, no matter how many steps I took, the distance between me and it never shrank. Except, before I knew it, I was already there. There, my sister's once muffled cries pierced my ears with absolute clarity.
Every sharp breath she took in, every sniffle, every sob, I heard it all. Right behind the front door.
My heart tightened, and I bit my lower lip.
...I should do something.
That's what I thought, but who was I to do anything? Is a fight between Mother and Daughter really something I could interfere with?
No—that was just an excuse. In truth, I just didn't know if I was qualified to do anything at all. How was I supposed to help my sister when I knew all too well the state of our relationship?
Going up to her, being there for her, and acting like I was some kind of benevolent Older Brother who cared about her was the kind of hypocrisy I hated the most. I had no right to care for her anymore.
All of those were reasons that held me back, but most of all—it was my sense of dignity. I didn't know if I had it in me to keep a straight face as my sister cried in front of me.
Even through this door, I could physically feel her emotions. Feeling her raw hurt made me bite my own lips in hopes of keeping my own tears at bay. I didn't want to be seen looking like this—especially in front of my sister.
But all those thoughts disappeared in the very next second.
*WAHHHHHHHHH*
It was a childish, ugly, pathetic, annoying, but... genuine cry. A cry for help. A cry for anything.
I hung my head and looked away from the door, as guilt bubbled inside of me, growing more unbearable as the seconds flew by.
Just… What am I doing?
Here I was, hiding behind this door, doing absolutely nothing while my sister was suffering on her own.
I let out a self-deprecating chuckle.
I really am... just a shitty Older Brother.
I remained completely still for a moment before I let out a soft sigh and lifted my head once more, gazing directly at the door that separated my sister and me.
I knew that I was being nothing but audacious. Nothing but hypocritical. Nothing but out of character. And nothing but ugly—even uglier than my sister's crying.
...But I don't care.
I took a small step forward, inching closer to the door. There was no logic or reasoning behind what I was doing now—my body just moved on its own.
I placed my hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. It was time to do what needed to be done. I forced everything I was feeling into the depths of my heart, leaving nothing but a small smile behind.
Enough of this.
Who cares if I'm not qualified?
Who cares if our relationship doesn't permit this?
Who cares about my worthless dignity?
Twisting the doorknob, I opened the door. The blinding light outside was like a curtain of white. The moment I took that step, there was no turning back. No—it was too late the moment I opened the door.
So—I stepped into the light, leaving everything behind in the process. My dignity, my guilt, my sadness, my loathing, my doubt, everything. That is—except for one thing. I wouldn't be able to help—or even be there—for my sister without it. And that was...
My pride as an Older Brother.