Ayanokouji What If: Popularity Time

V8-Flashback-A Missing Sibling

Old people are said to have loose lips. People say their old age gets to them and they lose all social grace and just let whatever they think out.

I learned that when my grandma was on her deathbed. It was the spring break right before I would enroll in the prestigious ANHS in Tokyo. The summer was especially hot, and I remember constantly having to peel my t-shirt from my sweaty skin.

The room was incredibly sterile and clean, so clean that you could practically see it sparkling. White tile flooring and walls, a few beds with blue linen sheets, and some colorful flowers placed in green vases were neatly arranged around the room.

I sat down next to the bed and listened to her rambles every few days whenever I had some free time to spare.

One day, she was in an awful mood and I contemplated leaving out of frustration. Her senile whining had been really getting to me, so could you blame me?

But just as I stood up, she whined, "That boy robbed me of my precious granddaughter! I just wanted to have a lot of grandkids, is that so much to ask for?"

"Grandma, there never was a granddaughter," I said with annoyance evident in my voice while drumming my fingers on my knees.

Her frail, skinny arms, moved to the edge of the bed and wrapped around the protector that would keep her from falling and shattering her neck upon impact.

"No," she murmured, "Yahiko Kokomi was her name...she was named after my mother you know. She had the bluest eyes too...pretty and shiny hair. It's a shame you dyed yours, you had such beautiful black hair!"

"Your imagination has always been big Grandma, but this is really pushing the bill," I remarked as I shifted around in my seat.

She feebly shook her head from side to side and let out a sharp hiss, "Listen to me! Respect your elders! That girl really does exist! Her birth certificate is as real as your birth certificate, her hair is as real as yours! She is as real as you are!"

I rolled my eyes and threw my arm around the chair, "Have your meds, you're not yourself without them."

She glared, her wrinkles deepening like a canyon around her eyes, "Boy, know me well, I do not lie! That girl exists!"

"Grandma..."

Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted me. 

"Come in," I said loudly while turning my head around to face the visitor.

It was one of her nurses, coming to tell me I had to leave. And so I did, out the double doors and onto the hot sidewalk, down the road, and into my house.

Old people have loose lips.

My grandma was never a liar. Even if telling me the truth would hurt me, she still would. She valued the truth above all else. So why would she lie to me now?

I decided to do some digging. First, I looked up the name.

No results besides a few random people on FameBok. Great start.

Next, I decided to go through the old family boxes in the closet in my Mother and Father's bedroom. I waited until they were gone and then I crept silently across the room and up to the white closet door.

With a shaking hand, I pushed it open. Inside were several cardboard boxes stacked neatly on top of one another. The closet was small and inside of it came an old musty smell, like it hadn't been opened in months, maybe even years.

I walked around the boxes, looking at the scotch tape that had been labeled with black Sharpies.

Clothes, books, heirlooms, and junk. But one thing stuck out.

Baby photos.

I ripped off the tape and shoved aside the pictures of me, my father, my mother, my grandmother, and my great-grandmother.

Nothing. Not a single picture of a little girl that didn't look similar to another one that was someone I knew.

I sighed at my foolishness and closed up the box. I tucked it back into its spot and stood up to walk across the dusty old floors and back into the bedroom.

But suddenly, I was interrupted midstep when I tripped.

"Shit!" I cried as I held out my hands between me and the rapidly approaching floorboards. With a crash, I landed on the ground painfully. My hands took the brunt of the pain when I collided with the floor. A searing pain shot through my skin, and I hissed out loud.

"Ah...fuck," I muttered while gently hugging my hands to my chest.

As I recovered from the injury, I looked around on the ground for whatever tripped me up.

"Oh crap," I muttered as I crawled across the floor, "Oh shit they're gonna be pissed!"

Sticking out of the floorboards was, well, a floorboard. I accidentally ripped one up when I was walking, and now I was in deep shit.

As I crawled around the board, I spotted something under the floorboard.

I reached down, wrapping my hands around the thing that I had then realized was a box. A wooden box.

It was black as the night but on the corners the paint was chipping, revealing the wood underneath.

Why was this hidden? Could this be what I was looking for?

Quickly I popped open the box and peeked inside of it.

At the center of it was a letter that had been previously opened. I picked up the letter, which was crinkled up like it was thrown into a trash bin.

Still, the words were legible.

Dear Yahiko Momori,

We trust you have received your payment for your generous donation to the foundation. Kokomi will be in good hands. That is all the information you are privy to.

Thank you,
[Redacted]

Author: Cries cutely. Have a great day and see you next time I update!