On the final night of summer vacation, August 31st, Tsubasa falls asleep feeling a little sad that the fun is ending. But when he wakes up, his sister Riel tells him something impossible: 'Today is August 32nd.' His brothers, sister, and even his brother's girlfriend all accept this non-existent date as perfectly normal.
At first, Tsubasa is thrilled that summer vacation has been extended. But soon, he's the only one who notices the strange changes creeping into his home. Riel's cooking gradual
August 32nd - Eternal Sunflowers and the Fading Taste
The late-morning sunlight poured down over the entire garden.
The large sunflower blossoms swayed in the breeze, nodding their heads in a gentle bob. Heat haze shimmered up from the ground, and the relentless drone of cicadas filled the air.
The marigolds in Rieru's flower bed had bloomed into small orange flowers. It was the familiar summer garden, just as it always was.
Tsubasa slid open the front door and grimaced involuntarily at the muggy wave of heat.
Even after that terrifying experience yesterday, morning had come and everything looked like this. The world wore its usual summer face.
The date on the TV still read August 32nd, but that didn't mean they couldn't go outside. He even started to feel like that corridor yesterday had been a dream.
" Sis! Let's have a water gun fight!"
Tsubasa yelled toward the living room.
Beyond the large sliding window, Rieru, who had been putting away the dishes, looked up.
Her long brown hair spilled smoothly over her shoulders. Today, instead of her yellow headband, she had tied her hair back into a single ponytail with a light-blue scrunchie.
" Water guns? What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
Rieru opened the window and tilted her head. Her light-brown eyes sparkled, reflecting the sunlight.
" It's summer vacation! You've gotta do this kind of stuff or you're missing out! Let's get Fuuto and have a three-way battle!"
Tsubasa dragged the water guns out of the storage shed.
They were cheap, plastic things. He'd bought them last summer at "Maruya," the candy shop in the shopping district.
The blue one was Tsubasa's, the red one was Fuuto's. The green one was Hanyii's. All three were a little dirty, covered in dust.
" Sis, you use the blue one! I'm fine with the green one!"
" Hehe, thank you. But I'm happy just watching."
" Aww, boring! Come on, just do it! Here!"
Tsubasa thrust the blue water gun against Rieru's chest.
Rieru smiled, a little troubled, and accepted it. She rolled up the sleeves of her white blouse and tested the trigger with her slender fingers.
" I suppose I have no choice. But I'm still wearing my apron, so try not to soak me too much."
" What are you talking about! It's a water gun fight, getting wet is the whole point! Fuuto! You come too!"
An easel stood in the corner of the garden.
Fuuto, who had been sitting in front of it with his sketchbook open, glanced over.
His blue hair swayed in the wind, the long ends on the left side brushing against his shoulder. His blue eyes, which could look gray depending on the light, narrowed in annoyance.
" Shut up. I'm drawing right now."
" You can draw later! We can only have a water gun fight today!"
" ...That makes no sense."
Fuuto let out a small sigh.
Still, he set down his brush and stood up. He closed his sketchbook and dunked his brush into the bucket beside him.
" Mine's the red one, right?"
" Yep, yep! Here!"
Tsubasa tossed the red water gun.
Fuuto caught it effortlessly with one hand. For a guy who usually did nothing but grip a paintbrush, his reflexes at times like this were surprisingly good.
" Alright, let's start! Here I go!"
Tsubasa raised the green water gun above his head and took off running.
He dashed around, kicking off the stepping stones laid out in the garden, and filled his gun at the outdoor faucet. Sparkling water splashed from the exposed rubber hose.
The first shot.
The stream of water Tsubasa fired hit Fuuto square in the shoulder.
" ...Cold."
Fuuto muttered in a monotone voice, then retaliated without a word. Extending his long arm, he fired his red water gun, the water striking Tsubasa accurately in the face.
" Whoa! It got in my eye!"
" Serves you right."
The corners of his mouth relaxed slightly. It was only when he made this kind of face that he looked like the younger brother his age would suggest.
" Oh, you're gonna get it! Sis, you shoot him too! On three!"
Rieru was still hesitating.
Clutching the blue water gun to her chest, she glanced around nervously.
" But... our clothes..."
" It's fine! It's summer vacation!"
When Tsubasa shouted again, Rieru laughed as if resigned.
Her skirt hem fluttering lightly, she stepped out into the garden. She was barefoot. The black shadows of the stepping stones fell across the tops of her white feet.
Rieru gently pulled the trigger of her water gun.
A thin, clear stream of water traced an arc and soaked into Fuuto's back.
" Even you, Sis...!"
Fuuto spun around. Droplets of water dripped from his blue hair.
" I'm sorry, Fuuto. But Tsubasa told me to."
Rieru brought a hand to her mouth and giggled.
That smile was perfect. Gentle, soft, the kind that soothed your heart just by looking at it.
Tsubasa suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Rieru's smile.
Up until a moment ago, he was sure it had been a genuine smile.
But just now, for a split second. Just a tiny moment.
He felt like her expression had switched, smoothly, as if putting on a mask.
(...No.)
(It's my imagination.)
Shaking his head, Tsubasa started running again.
" Not done yet! I'm aiming for you next, Sis!"
" Eek! Stop it, Tsubasa!"
Rieru shrieked and ran.
Her scream was bright and sounded like fun. Still barefoot, she dashed around, hopping over the stepping stones, and hid in the shadow of the sunflowers.
" Wait up!"
Tsubasa chased after her.
Rieru ran, laughing.
Fuuto watched the two of them with an exasperated look.
Above them, the deep blue sky stretched on endlessly. White clouds drifted slowly eastward.
The summer sun made the water droplets scattered across the garden sparkle.
He saw a rainbow.
A small one, lasting only a moment.
" Oh, a rainbow."
Rieru stopped and pointed at the sky.
Tsubasa stared intently at her profile.
Her white skin, translucent in the sunlight.
Her slightly flushed cheeks.
Her blouse, wet with water droplets, clinging around her shoulders.
She was beautiful.
She was the same kind, gentle big sister as always.
But.
Tsubasa had noticed it.
The moment Rieru looked up at the rainbow, her eyes had gone empty for just a second.
As if she was looking at something, yet seeing nothing at all.
The usual gentle light returned immediately, but—
It felt like a tiny thorn had lodged itself deep in his chest.
(What was that?)
(Just now.)
Tsubasa lowered his water gun.
Water dripped from it, making dark stains on the stepping stones.
" Tsubasa? Are you tired?"
Rieru came closer and peered into his face.
She gently brushed aside the bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat.
Her fingertips were slightly cool.
" N-No! I'm fine! I can still keep going!"
Tsubasa forced a smile.
Rieru smiled back, looking relieved, and readied her water gun again.
" Well then, this time I'm aiming for you, Tsubasa."
" Huh? You are, Sis!?"
" Counterattack commencing. ...Take that."
Rieru gleefully fired her water gun in rapid succession.
The water from the blue gun traced an arc and soaked Tsubasa's chest. The cold sensation spread gradually across his skin.
" I'm hit! Fuuto, help!"
" Not my problem."
Fuuto had already returned to his easel.
He had his sketchbook open and was gripping his paintbrush.
The water crest on the back of his left hand reflected the sunlight, glowing blue.
(He's drawing again already?)
(Even though he was just drawing a minute ago.)
It bothered Tsubasa a little, but Rieru's relentless attack was too intense for him to think straight.
In the end, all three of them ended up soaked, and the water gun fight was over.
With her apron, blouse, and everything else drenched, Rieru gave a wry smile and disappeared into the house to change.
Tsubasa stood still in the garden, gazing absently up at the sunflowers.
The flowers were blooming, just like yesterday.
Nothing about them had changed.
But.
Those empty eyes of Rieru's he'd seen earlier.
What had that been about?
The thorn lodged in his chest throbbed with a dull ache.
In the evening.
Dinner was laid out on the dining table in the living room.
Tonight's menu was hamburger steak, Tsubasa's absolute favorite.
On a large plate sat three nicely browned hamburger steaks. They were covered in plenty of demi-glace sauce, with glazed carrots and potato salad adding color on the side.
" Whoa! Hamburger steak!"
Tsubasa couldn't help but exclaim.
Rieru, still in her apron, smiled happily.
" Since you love it, Tsubasa, I made a lot. Please eat up."
" Of course! Thanks for the food!"
Tsubasa clapped his hands together energetically and picked up his chopsticks. Fuuto also brought his hands together silently.
First, he cut the hamburger steak into a bite-sized piece and brought it to his mouth.
"..."
He chewed.
Twice, three times.
...Huh?
Tsubasa tilted his head.
The flavor was weak.
Yesterday's hamburger steak had a much more robust taste. The meat juices had burst out, and the rich flavor of the demi-glace sauce had filled his mouth.
But this one he was eating now...
It felt somehow vague.
The taste of the meat was distant. He could vaguely tell the taste of the sauce, but its definition seemed blurred.
(Huh?)
(Could it be that my tongue is acting weird?)
Tsubasa took another bite, cutting a larger piece this time and eating it.
It was still weak.
It was as if the flavor of the sauce had gotten lost somewhere.
He remembered the rice porridge he ate when he had a fever once. He couldn't really taste that either.
(...Do I have a cold?)
(But I don't have a fever, and I'm not coughing.)
" What's wrong, Tsubasa? Wasn't it to your liking?"
Rieru peered at him with a worried look.
Her light-brown eyes wavered anxiously.
" N-No! It's delicious! Really delicious!"
Tsubasa hurriedly put on a smile.
(It's my imagination.)
(It's definitely my imagination.)
He repeated it in his head like a mantra.
The fact that breakfast tasted weak yesterday was surely just his imagination too.
After all, it's midsummer and hot, and maybe he's just sleep-deprived.
His taste buds are just being stupid.
Tsubasa forced a smile and stuffed the hamburger steak into his mouth.
He chewed it with his back teeth.
(It's delicious.)
(It is delicious.)
But the more he chewed, the further the taste receded.
By the third chew, it was almost like water.
He was just chewing a warm, soft lump.
He almost set down his chopsticks but stopped himself.
" Oh, good. There's still plenty more, so have seconds, okay?"
Rieru beamed.
He couldn't let that smile cloud over.
" [forced smile] Yeah! I'll have seconds! Your hamburger steak is the best in the world, Sis!"
Tsubasa put as much cheer into his voice as he could.
Across from him, Fuuto was eating his hamburger steak in silence.
He said nothing. Not that it was bland, not that it was good. He just moved his fork mechanically.
(How does Fuuto feel about it?)
He wanted to ask, but he couldn't.
Because if Fuuto just said "It's whatever," that felt even scarier.
The next morning.
The calendar pointed to August 33rd.
Tsubasa wasn't surprised anymore.
He decided there was no point in being shocked by the date's abnormality.
He finished breakfast and went out into the garden.
It was hot outside again today.
The sound of the cicadas seemed a little louder than yesterday.
The sunflowers also seemed a little taller.
But none of that mattered.
In the corner of the garden.
A stack of papers had been placed around Fuuto's easel.
Tsubasa approached and picked one up.
" Huh...?"
It was a picture of a sunflower.
The picture Fuuto had been drawing yesterday.
Vivid yellow petals stretching up toward the blue sky.
He picked up a second one.
It was a picture of a sunflower.
The exact same composition as yesterday's. The same colors. The same brushwork.
As if it had been copied.
A third one.
A sunflower.
A fourth one.
A sunflower.
A fifth one.
All of them, sunflowers.
Exactly the same sunflower picture as yesterday.
" ...What is this?"
Tsubasa looked around.
At the foot of the easel were bundles of sketchbooks, piled on top of each other.
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