Eldest Brother and Second Brother

"Did Asuka mention us to you?"

The boy in the black T-shirt asked, arms crossed, chin slightly raised, looking Xia Mo up and down with a scrutinizing gaze.

That look was familiar to Xia Mo—it was the same look the PE teacher gave when checking if students were wearing their school uniforms correctly.

"...No." Xia Mo answered honestly.

Asuka never mentioned it. She only said that she had two older brothers, one in high school and one in junior high, and that was all.

She never mentioned that her two older brothers would appear in the station square like two guardian deities, looking at him with an expression that said, "You'd better give me an explanation."

"Then how do you know who we are?" the tall boy asked.

Xia Mo pointed to the boy in the black T-shirt's eyes: "Because of the color of your eyes."

The boy in the black T-shirt paused for a moment, looked down at the back of his hand, as if trying to confirm whether the color of his eyes was written on it.

Then he looked up, and the smile that seemed to be half-smile widened a little more.

"Good observation skills," he said.

Xia Mo wasn't sure if this was a compliment or something else.

The tall boy took a step forward and stood directly in front of Xia Mo. He was so much taller than Xia Mo that she had to look up at him.

This angle reminds Xia Mo of a posture called "looking up," which is usually used to look at mountains, tall buildings, or adult giraffes.

"I am Asuka's older brother, Saito Shoma." The tall boy's voice wasn't loud, but he enunciated each word clearly, as if he were reading a formal document.

"This is my second brother, Saito Nagi Hayato."

The man in the black T-shirt—Nagi Hayato—nodded slightly at Natsume, a nod that was somewhere between "hello" and "you better watch out, kid."

"Are you the one who plays the piano?" Nagi Hayato asked.

Summer nodded. He noticed that Nagi Hayato used "that pianist" instead of "Asuka's friend" or something else.

This means that when Asuka mentions him at home, he uses this label.

"The one who plays the piano." For some reason, this title made him a little happy.

"Are you Chinese?" Xiangzhen asked.

"Yes. I've been studying here for two years."

Xiangzhen looked him over again. His eyes were different from her sister's; they were dark brown, their color indistinct in the sunset, but the scrutinizing gaze was the same—

When a bird examines a glass of strawberry milk to see if it's fresh, it looks at it with the same gaze.

"Where's Asuka?" Xia Mo mustered up his courage to ask. His voice was a little more steady than before, but you could still hear a hint of cautious probing.

Shoma and Nagi Hayato exchanged another glance.

"Still wearing a yukata at home," Nagi Shun said, her tone carrying a weariness that seemed to say, "Do you know how long it takes for a girl to go out?"

"My mom is tying her belt," Xiangzhen added. "She's been doing it for almost forty minutes. We were kicked out. But my mom will be coming too; she'll be behind Asuka."

Xia Mo imagined the scene—Fei Niao stood in front of the mirror, her mother was struggling with a belt behind her, and her two older brothers were pacing back and forth in the living room like ants on a hot plate, finally being kicked out of the house with the words "You guys go first, don't get in the way here".

He wanted to laugh, but the two door gods in front of him made him think that laughing might not be a good idea.

"So," Xiangzhen's voice suddenly became very soft and slow, like a knife slowly being drawn from its sheath.

"You're the one who made Asuka bring lunch to school every day, made her learn the tamagoyaki recipe, and even fought with a mop in the hallway?"

Xia Mo pressed his back against the Tora-san statue.

He didn't recall mentioning these events to his older brother, which meant that—Asuka had told him at home.

Asuka talked about him at home. And she talked a lot, so much so that even her older brother could repeat it verbatim.

Xia Mo felt completely unwell.

"...The mop thing was my fault," he said.

"I didn't say you were bad." Shojin's voice returned to normal volume, and the curve of his lips finally changed from "scrutinizing" to "amusing." "I just wanted to confirm whether you are the person Asuka described."

"It seems so," Nagi Hayato concluded from the side.

"It seems so." Xiangzhen nodded.

The two people stood on either side of Xia Mo, like two doors side by side. Xia Mo, sandwiched in the middle, felt like a prisoner being interrogated, or a recent college graduate being interviewed by two examiners.

The number on my phone had reached 6:23, with seven minutes left until 6:30.

The square grew increasingly crowded, the colors of the yukatas became more vibrant, and the aroma of the yakisoba grew stronger. Everything was moving enthusiastically toward the "fireworks festival."

Only Xia Mo was trapped in this small triangle, with a cold bronze statue behind her and two high mountains in front of her.

Just as Xia Mo was wondering if today's fireworks festival was going to be canceled, Nagi Hayato suddenly reached out and patted Xia Mo on the shoulder.

The force wasn't great, but Xia Mo was jolted.

"Relax," Nagi Hayato said, a hint of warmth in the half-smile of his lips. "We're not here to beat you up."

"We just came to take a look," Xiangzhen said.

"What are you looking at?" Xia Mo asked.

Xiangzhen looked into his eyes and said earnestly, word by word, "Look at what kind of person Asuka's first friend was."

Xia Mo opened her mouth, wanting to say something. But then she felt that at this moment, nothing she said seemed quite right.

He looked at the two faces in front of him—one serious as if taking an entrance exam, and the other with a half-smile on its face.

But the light in their eyes was earnest—he suddenly felt his eyes getting hot.

It's not because I'm afraid.

It was because he suddenly realized something: although Asuka felt wronged by being isolated at school, she also had two older brothers who would arrive at the station early in the evening of the fireworks festival, "just to come and see".

"Well..." Xia Mo took a deep breath, trying to make her voice sound like she had just run a kilometer, "What kind of person do you think I am?"

Shoma and Nagi Hayato both fell silent for a second.

Then Nagi Hayato laughed.

It was a sudden laugh, a loud, exaggerated laugh that stretched his mouth to an exaggerated degree, as if he were a comedian on TV, but then he returned to calm in an instant.

"It's alright," Nagi Hayato said.

It seems my second brother is more suited to performing manzai (traditional Japanese comedy), Xia Mo thought to herself.

Xiangzhen didn't smile, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. The movement was so subtle that Xia Mo would have missed it if she hadn't been staring at his face the whole time.

"Feiniao said that besides playing the piano, you can also play the cello," Xiangzhen said.

"We've heard of pianos, but we don't have cellos yet. Let us hear one sometime."

Xia Mo paused for a moment, then nodded vigorously.

--------

The sound of taiko drums drifted from afar, one beat after another, as if some important ceremony was about to begin. The crowd began to move towards the riverbank, as if drawn, pushed, and thronged by the drumbeats.

6:28.

Another group of people poured out of the station's turnstiles.

Two figures emerged from the crowd of people wearing yukatas and laughing and joking.

Walking in front was a middle-aged woman, dressed in an elegant dark blue yukata, her hair neatly tied up, and a gentle smile on her face.

She was carrying a handkerchief (a small drawstring cloth bag) in her hand, and her gaze swept around the square before settling on the bronze statue.

A small figure wearing a pink yukata followed behind her.

A pink yukata with small white floral patterns. A dark pink sash tied around her waist in a large bow hangs down her back. Her hair is styled in a bun, revealing a section of her snow-white nape. A few stray strands of hair fall loosely beside her ears, swaying gently in the evening breeze.

It is a bird.

She wore wooden clogs and walked slowly and carefully, as if she was still getting used to walking in these shoes. In her hand, she clutched a small, pink cloth bag embroidered with a tiny rabbit.

The bird's eyes were scanning the crowd, and soon it spotted the three people standing next to the bronze statue.

She paused for a moment.