From Drakengard 3 Official English Website
Four - Family Portrait
"Five! I know it was you. Don't just leave your clothes lying on the floor!"
I've already yelled at her to clean it up. So what if the house is abandoned and no one lives here? It isn't ours to do with as we please. We're here to rest from our travels and take shelter—that's it. And when we leave, we need to put things back the way we found them. We're not slobs.
But Five has been shedding her clothes and spilling her food like she owns the place. She ought to try cleaning up after herself. Well, I suppose it's to be expected from the youngest in any family.
I start to fold her dress and catch myself grimacing. There's a big tear in the seam under the sleeve. Oh, of course. She probably forgot all about this dress the second she found something else to change into. "What am I going to do with her?"
I let out a big sigh. Not only do I clean up after Five, I wind up mending her clothes, too. But she's all thumbs, anyway; if I made her do the needlework, we'd just wind up with more rags. Either that, or she'd prick her finger or something and make a big scene. Best to avoid the trouble and handle this myself. One open seam won't take more than a few minutes.
I spread out the dress to check it for other tears, and now I've noticed there's hair all over the floor. "Three," I groan. "Not you, too."
Three has made a bad habit of this: sitting down any old place and then getting her hair all over everything when she cuts it. It's not my older sister's fault her hair grows faster than other people's, but honestly, I swear she does this for kicks. I mean, if it's that much of a hassle, she could just chop it off at shoulder length. But Three cuts the ends; she'll just grab a clump of hair and snick, snick away at it with her scissors. I think she enjoys it. You could almost call it a hobby—a really weird one, in my opinion.
In fact, she's a little weird in general. All right, a lot weird. Exceedingly weird. Actually, I'm still mincing words. She's a certifiable loon.
As I think this, I hear the snick, snick getting closer. Here she comes. "Three, would you stop getting your hair all—" But over the place is dead on arrival. Three has been cutting her hair as she walks. With each snick, more of her silky hair flutters toward the floor.
"Need something?" she says. The fallen hair is getting on everything. Her brazenesss has knocked the words right out of me. If it were Five, I would already be yelling, "Stop making a mess!"
"Three, maybe you shouldn't cut your hair while you walk."
"Why not? Because... Because scissors are sharp, right? If your hand slips, you could hurt yourself."
"I'll be fine." Three cuts off another lock of hair as if to say: See? Not dangerous. I feel my shoulders slump. What a waste of time. I should have known who I was dealing with right from the start.
"All right, you'll be fine. But could you please pick up the hair you've gotten all over everything? This isn't our house." I shudder to think what the next people to come in will think if they find mounds of hair all over the floor. I know I'd be creeped out. "Here you go." I hold out a broom realizing as I do that it's another waste of time.
"I'm tired," says Three. Sure enough, she flops down on her butt, keels over, and is asleep before I can blink. She's not pretending to be asleep; she's actually doing it. It's incredible, in a way.
I can't sleep if you so much as switch out my pillow, but Three—she can deal with a different mattress, or no mattress at all, or even just a patch of dirt. If she can get horizontal, she can sleep. You could raise the roof right next to her and she wouldn't care. No matter how dirty her clothes get, she doesn't mind. As delicate as she looks, Three is a tough one to faze.
It's a shame. Three has the prettiest face of all of us. But despite being a beautiful young woman, she's impudent and slovenly and just plain odd. I doubt anyone would believe it if you told them.
What a shame about her hair too. It's straight and lustrous and feels just like silk, and here she is clumsily hacking it to pieces. If I had hair like that, I'd cut it nice and even, or at least do it up properly. And if I had Three's face, wouldn't catch me rolling around on the floor. I would want to be presentable. I can't fathom how someone could be born this pretty and wreck it all with bad hair and worse behavior. Three is frittering away nature's gifts. She doesn't even seem the slightest bit interested in using her head, as smart as she is.
Maybe that's what separates the loons from the non-loons. I bet loons never give any thought to falling in love or leading ordinary, happy lives.
Once I've put a coat on Three so she doesn't catch a cold, I clean up the hair on the floor and stitch up Five's dress. I've really gotten the short end of the stick, haven't I?
Three may be strange beyond reproach, but I've got to do something about Five. We're hurting her in the long run by letting her act spoiled and take people for granted all the time just because she's the youngest. Today, I need to finally give her a good talking-to.
And how unfair is that? I'm sure I must have been the youngest child up until Five was born, but I have no memory of it. As far back as I can remember, Five has been there and I've been on big sister duty as second youngest. Grown-ups tell me I need to "tough it out" because I'm older, as if that makes any sense. When have I ever begged to have my way or burdened people the way Five does?
You know, I'm probably not cut out to be a youngest child anyway. My conscience and common sense would get in the way if I tried to pull one of Five's selfish tricks. The first thing to jump to mind would be how much I'm putting other people out. And more than anything—
"Four? Did you want to see me?"
This. I can't be this smooth a customer. Never in a million years will I have the brass to wait until right after someone finishes mending my clothes to come crawling in.
"You know you're not supposed to leave your clothes lying around. How many times do I have to tell you? And look what you did to the seam!"
"Oh, that's not me."
"I don't want to hear it. I stitched it up for you this time, but next time you're on your own."
"It really wasn't me! Honest." The nerve of her. Who but Five could ever be a big enough slouch to try and pin the blame on someone else?
"Oh, Four. Sorry!" says a tomboyish voice. "That one's my fault." My older sister Two is scratching herself when she turns up. She can get a little rough around the edges, but what baffles me is that it comes across as lovable. If I acted like that, people would probably mistake me for an actual boy, not some lovable tomboy. And if Five tried it, they'd think she popped a screw. Why is Two the only one who gets to be able to pull it off?
"But, Two, this is Five's dress." It doesn't have her name written on it, but I'm pretty good at remembering whose clothes are whose. When you have to pick up after everyone and mend their clothes, you get pretty good at telling people's belongings apart. So the dress is clearly Five's. The thing is, Two would never lie to me...
"Yeah. It was Five's dress." Aha. Mystery solved. So that's what happened. I knew Two wouldn't lie to me. "Was" means she got the dress as a hand-me-down. It makes sense. Total sense. No further explanation needed. I get it. Please don't go there, Five!
But she does.
"The dress was squeezing me so hard I just couldn't wear it anymore." Five sticks out her chest as she explains, and I feel a tinge of anger. A girl her age shouldn't be this developed, let alone flaunt it. It's sick. She ought to be ashamed of herself. I mean, what is it they say? You're born with either tits or wits?
"Five said she was done with it, so I took it off her hands." Two explains with a big smile, completely unfazed by our little sister's pig show. Would it hurt Two to reprimand Five just once? It's a big sister's duty, if you ask me. "But when I tried it on, I flexed a little too hard and...rrrip."
"The seam burst."
"Bingo! That's right, Four." Two's muscles are overpowered, so she's always breaking things or punching holes in the wall. But then she says, "Oh no!" and turns white as a sheet. It's kind of ironic that one of us with the best intentions does the most damage. She'd be a real catch otherwise.
"Can you believe I ruined a dress someone just gave me? I went to find a needle and thread to see if I could fix it up."
"Here you are, Two." I hold out the dress, which is all stitched up now. Unlike Five, Two can take care of herself, but she's a little clumsy. She's decent enough with her fingers, but a little disorganized, you might say. So I tend to get thinks taken care of first. It doesn't upset me though, since Two isn't trying to unload her chores on people.
"Whoa! Hang on. You're kidding. You did this for me? This is amazing! How'd you do it so fast? It's perfect!" Two will never flatter you or dole out empty compliments. Her praise comes from the heart. Everything about her does; she's cheerful, eager, kind, compassionate.
But my sister is so honest sometimes that I worry about her. Those same qualities can be flipped around and used against you. People like that are easy to trick and to take advantage of, right?
Which is bad enough in itself, but Two is likeable and attractive. It wouldn't surprise if unsavory sorts came up to her with less than good intentions. She projects a sort of helplessness and flightiness which makes her look like an easy mark. And, in fact, she probably is an easy mark.
But knowing her, even if she did get burned, she'd probably bounce right back and convince herself it was a one-time mistake. I'm sure she'd say "This time I'll meet Mr. Right," and keep letting men use her and then toss her aside. Another troubling thought.
I mean, someone as attractive as her shouldn't be throwing away her life to chase after a bunch of worthless jerks, right? With her good looks? Talk about going downhill. What a tragedy. It worries me sick just imagining. That's right. I'm only thinking of her!
"Four, you're the best! Let me go try it on." I hear Two squealing in delight as she does, and next she's saying, "Yay! It's a perfect fit!" as she turns in circles. It almost feels like I'm the big sister.
"Well? What do you think? Huh?" Once Five and I manage a nod, Two's face lights up in a big grin and she wheels around. "I've got to show this to One!" she gasps, and flies out of the room without even shutting the door. She can be such a child. Well, she is a child. This whole journey, we've been going around trouncing villains and monsters that have been tormenting innocent people. It's been easy to forget that we're all still kids. And Five doesn't help with all that flaunting and the filth she spouts.
"Oh, Four." The indecent creature is slinking up behind me right now. I've got a bad feeling about this. "Now did I lie to you or not?"
"No. I misjudged you."
"Why do you always have to treat me like the villain? You hurt my feelings," she says with absolutely no hurt in her voice. I can feel her pressing right up against my back.
"I was wrong," I manage.
"Is that it? Aren't you going to say you're sorry?"
"I'm sorry," I manage again.
"I can't hear you."
"I said, I'm SORRY!" Ugh. I'm not usually this easy to get to. She thinks she's so smart. Jerk. "could you get away from me now? You're crushing me."
Her and her oversized bazoom! It ticks me off!
"Mmm," she moans. "You don't like being crushed? Why? Because you can't do it with those pancakes?"
"WELL, EXCUSE ME AND MY PANCAKES! LIKE I'D EVER WANT TO BE LIKE YOU! GET AWAY FROM ME, IT'S HOT ENOUGH IN HERE! AND DON'T 'MMM' ME! YOU'RE TOO YOUNG TO BE ACTING LIKE SOME FILTHY WHORE. I BET THE FOOD YOU EAT GOES RIGHT TO YOUR TITS AND YOU'VE GOT THE BRAINS OF A STUPID COW. YOU STUPID DUMBSHIT! DUMBSHIT, DUMBSHIT, DUMBSHIT!"
"Oh, Four! Stop! You're so scary."
"SHUT UP! BITCHCOW! GO EAT SOME BITCHGRASS!" Soon, I'm grabbing everything within reach and throwing it at her. But she writhes and moans and dodges it all, which only manages to piss me off even more.
I hate you so much! All of you! I despise you! I know I'll never be lovable like Two or beautiful like Three. I know that compared to Five I'm a pancake! I hate myself! I hate my face! My body! I'm not pretty or lovable and I have the most average face you can imagine. My arms and legs are gangly and I look like a twig that can never get my stupid hair to straighten out!
And these horrid nails! I hate them so much I just want to die. They keep growing and growing and get all curly and weird if I don't clip them, or else they crack or they get caught on everything. They're useless and I wish I could just rip them straight off. My arms are useless, my legs are useless, my face is useless—all of me is useless!
Me? Useless? No! I'm not the one who's useless!
YOU ARE, YOU WORTHLESS FOUL-MOUTHED SLUT! IF YOU THINK YOU AND THOSE FLOPPY SACKS OF MEAT ARE SPECIAL, THEN YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER GODDAMN THING COMING! A SHIT WOULD TURN ITS NOSE UP AT YOU, YOU'RE NOTHING, SO FUCK OFF!
YOU TOO! YOU MUSCLE-BOUND LOVEY-DOVEY FREAK! AND YOU, YOU FUCKED-UP-WACK-JOB SCISSOR FIEND! YOUR BIG FAT BRAIN DOESN'T MEAN JACK SHIT! YOU AND YOUR STUPID PRETTY SKIN. IF IT'S SO PRETTY, WHY DON'T I RIP IT RIGHT OFF SO YOU CAN STARE AT IT? I'LL YANK IT RIGHT OVER YOUR BITCH SHOULDERS AND TEAR IT INTO TINY FUCKING PIECES SO YOU CAN WATCH ME GRIND IT INTO THE FLOOR!
I'm laughing maniacally now. I FEEL BETTER! I FEEL MUCH BETTER!
When I come around, the room is in shambles. And yet there's Three, still sound asleep. The fact that she managed to stay dead to the world through that much commotion has to make her some kind of prodigy. A loon prodigy.
Five must have fled the scene a while ago. She's not very smart, but she is smooth.
"I am such an idiot." I know I have to get this cleaned up fast. Whoever makes the mess has to clean it up. Everyone knows that. But when I see my sisters not doing it, I start to feel pretty stupid being the only one playing by the rules.
I put back the chairs and table I had upended, pick up the decanter, and wipe the floor. Oh no, I can't believe it. Was I throwing dishes? Five hadn't bothered to clear her place, and even now there are bits of food stuck to the pieces.
I sigh. "Why me?" But while Five may not have cleaned the dishes up, I'm the one who threw them and broke them. This is on me. From now on, I'll have to keep my temper tantrums to a minimum. Even if I get mad, I need to hold it in. Because no matter what I say or do, I'm only hurting myself in the end.
When at last the cleaning is done, I take a seat in a chair. I sure am tired. Maybe not on Three's level—but really tired.
"Is anyone here?"
My head has been face down on the table, but I look up. My eldest sister has just come in. "One, what's wrong?"
"Oh, I'm glad you're here, Four. Can you help me?"
"Should I wake Three up?"
After just a glance at Three, who is still sleeping like a log on the floor, One shakes her head. "Leave her be. You'll more than do." You'll more than do. I hear the words again in my head. They make me happy. One appreciates me...
Of all my sisters, One is the brightest, and the most knowledgeable, and the most dependable. She is responsible and just. She might not be lovable like Two or beautiful like Three, but her every expression and gesture exudes wisdom. That's why she's my orle model. I can't do anything about my face, but I can always get wiser.
Also, One has pancakes like me. For now, anyway.
"One, what do you need help with?" I ask as I walk a few steps behind her.
"Fixing a cart. I got us one at a nearby farm."
"A cart? What for?"
"There's something we'll need to carry once we get where we're going next." As I look at her in profile like this, the resolve on her face is pronounced. This is the expression she makes before going into battle. And we won't be doing it for ourselves. It will be for someone else: people who are suffering. One isn't the sort to turn a blind eye to injustice.
But sometimes I feel sorry for her when I see her like this; she has so many responsibilities. And she's not even the oldest of us, really. She's only in this position because she got sort of...bumped up the ladder, you might say. The truth is, One is someone's little sister, too. Someone else is supposed to be eldest and shoulder all this responsibility and tell us what to do...
"Um... Listen. You know I'm here to do everything I can to help you, right? You don't have to make every problem your own."
One seems a little surprised at first, but then her eyes soften and she replies, "Thank you." Two is unreliable, Three is weird, Five is selfish. That means I've got to help One. As dependable as she is, she's trying to fill the shoes of someone else, and that can't be easy.
Don't worry, I'll be there for you. That's what little sisters do. Well, at least this little. Right, One?
"Huh?" When I wake up, One is gone. The cart we were supposed to fix and the vacant house we had borrowed are gone, too. I'm in the same bed I always sleep in. "Oh...it was just a dream."
Of course it was. After all, we're all grown up now, and our journey is over. I used to think we could still go back to those days, when the five of us traveled together, but too much has changed.
I find myself wishing I dreamed of an older memory. One from way far back, when we had Zero, who was stronger and more beautiful than any of us. Back when I loved her, and admired her, and tried to be just like her.
But then, I still love her. She's my sister. She's family. I still believe she'll go back to the way she was so we can all live together again. So we can all be happy again.
And maybe I won't mind if there's one or two less of us.
From Drakengard 3 Official Japanese Website
Translation by Rimie
Four — Family Portrait
“Five! It was Five, wasn’t it! Leaving her clothes just lying around!”
I screamed for her to clean it up. Even if this is an empty house that no one is living in, we can’t just use it as we like. We’re only borrowing it on our journey. It needs to be exactly as it was when we leave. Leaving it messy is out of the question.
But Five takes off her clothes and leaves them everywhere, like it was her own room, and drops food everywhere… She should think about who cleans up after her. Well, younger siblings are probably all like this.
As I was about to fold them, I grimaced. There was a big rip from the sleeve to the side. I see. I know you’d want to change if that happened, but would you really just forget about the clothes you just took off?
“Five… What a problem child.”
I sighed loudly. I wouldn’t just be cleaning up, I’d be sewing it back up too. Well, if I left the needlework to clumsy Five, we’d just end up with more wasted fabric. Either that or she’d poke herself with the needle and make a scene while crying.
Thinking about how much of a problem it would be later, it’s much faster for me to just do it for her. This size hole should only take me a few minutes, so it’s fine.
As I spread it out to check if there were any other holes, now I noticed the hair scattered over the floor.
“Oh, Three-nee-sama too…”
This is Three-nee-sama’s bad habit. She’ll sit anywhere, cutting her hair. I know she does it because her hair grows faster than normal, but I think she’s also just playing.
See, if she thought it was getting in the way, she could just cut it up to just at her shoulders, but she does it lower. She grabs at it randomly and snips it. She probably just thinks cutting her hair is fun. It’s probably hobby-level, now. A weird hobby.
Not even stopping at that, Three-nee-sama is a bit weird. “A bit” is being nice. Really weird. Being completely truthful, she should be classified as a freak.
While I was thinking about that, I heard the snipping of scissors coming from behind me. Speak of the devil.
“Three-nee-sama, stop cu—“
As I was going to tell her to stop cutting her hair everywhere, I stopped. She was cutting it as she walked. With each snip, her hair scattered around.
“…Did you need something?”
Cut tufts of hair sprinkled down to the floor. Seeing her do it so openly makes it hard to say. If it was Five, I could have just angrily told her “stop dropping it everywhere!”
“Three-nee-sama. I think it might be a good idea to stop cutting your hair while you walk.”
“’Why’… Scissors are sharp, you know? It would be dangerous if your hands slipped.”
Saying it like it isn’t dangerous at all, she cut off another chunk. Just saying it wouldn’t do a thing, I realized as my shoulders dropped. I knew from the start that she was this kind of person, though.
“Even if it isn’t dangerous, please clean up the hair you drop. This isn’t our house.”
What would the next residents think if they walked into an empty house and saw so much hair scattered around. They’d be grossed out.
Even as I held the broom out, I knew it would be useless.
Of course, Three-nee-sama just sat down, flopped over, and fell asleep right there. It’s amazing how she didn’t even need to fake it, she just actually went to sleep.
I have a hard time sleeping if even just my pillow is different, but be it a different pillow, different bed, no bed at all, or just the ground, Three-nee-sama can fall asleep as soon as her head falls. Even when it’s loud around her, it doesn’t matter. Even if her clothes are filthy, she doesn’t mind. She may look sensitive, but Three-nee-sama is surprisingly resilient.
It’s a waste. Even though she’s the prettiest out of all of us. She may look like a sweet, beautiful girl, but she’s a shameless, sketchy weirdo. Even if I told someone who didn’t know her, they wouldn’t believe me.
Thinking about wastes, Three-nee-sama’s hair is one too. It’s so straight and shiny, and it feels like silk. But she cuts it so badly.
If I had hair like hers, I’d cut it properly, and do it up nicely. Not even just with hair like hers, if I was pretty like her, too. I would never sit weirdly, or flop down and sleep. I’d pay attention to how I spoke and acted. I can’t even imagine not paying attention to things like that when she was born as such a beauty.
Three-nee-sama is just wasting the gorgeousness she was born with. She’s not dumb either, but doesn’t use her head at all.
Every weirdo may be like that. They probably never even think about living properly, and falling in love normally, and being happy like everyone else.
After covering up Three-nee-sama so she doesn’t catch a cold, I cleaned up the scattered hair. Then I fixed up Five’s clothes. It feels like I’m doing all the work here.
I might have to give up on Three-nee-sama, since she’s such a weirdo, but I need to do something about Five. It’s not good for her to be so spoiled and selfish just because she’s the youngest. I’ll definitely say something to her today.
It’s so unfair. Before Five was born, I should have been the baby sister, but I don’t remember it at all. As far back as I can remember she’s been there, and I’ve been “the second youngest”, “Four-onee-sama”.
Adults always told me to “Just be patient, because you’re the big sister”, and I could never explain how I felt. Because I’d never been selfish, or bothered anyone like she does.
I don’t think my personality is fit for being the youngest, anyway. I’ve got too much common sense to do as I like, like Five. I start thinking about how I might trouble people.
“Four-onee-sama? Were you calling me?”
Here, This is what I mean. I’m not this tricky. I could never do something as shameless as walk in the moment the sewing was finished.
“You need to stop leaving your clothes everywhere! How many times do I have to tell you? And even leaving all of these rips!”
“Oh my. But those aren’t mine.”
“Don’t try to make excuses. I fixed them, but next time you need to do it yourself.”
“But it really wasn’t me.
Trying to blame it on someone else. The only one who could do something this careless is Five.
“Four-chan, sorry, those are mine!”
Two-onee-sama appeared, scratching her head and giggling like a little boy. It’s strange how she makes rough language and actions look so cute. I’d really look like a boy if I did that, and if I acted like Five I’d just look like I had a few screws loose. I’ll never get how she’s the only one that adorable.
Well, putting that aside.
“But, Two-onee-sama. Aren’t these Five’s clothes?”
It isn’t like our names are written on them, but I remember who owns what. After picking things up, and fixing clothes that aren’t mine, I can tell whose clothes they are by just looking at them.
So it’s obvious that these clothes are Five’s. The problem now is how Two-onee-sama doesn’t seem to be lying…
“Yep. They were originally Five-chan’s.”
Ah, I see. That’s what she means. Of course she isn’t lying. “Originally” meaning clothes Five gave her. Yeah. I don’t need to hear any more. I get it, so I don’t need you to explain anymore!
“I can’t wear them anymore, since they’re too tight around the chest.”
Five sticking her chest out like that pisses me off. Boasting about how big her breasts are when she’s just a kid, there’s a limit to how bad her sense can be. She should be at least a bit embarrassed. After all, don’t they say that big-breasted women are stupid?
“Five-chan didn’t need them, so I figured I’d take them off her hands.”
Completely ignoring her little sister’s lewd conduct, Two-onee-sama just smiled and started explaining. It’d be nice if she could rebuke her, too. I think that’s one of the duties that come with being an older sister.
“So I put them on right then, and I guess I put a little too much energy into it. And… Riiip.”
“The seams came apart.”
“Yep. Completely right, Four-chan!”
Two-onee-sama is a bit too strong, so she often accidentally breaks things, or puts holes in walls, and then gets upset about it. The gentlest sister is the most destructive one, even when she’s this girly. It’s kind of ironic.
“It sucks that I ripped ‘em apart as soon as I got them, right? So I thought I might be able to fix them, and went to look for a needle and some thread…”
I handed her the newly mended clothes. Two-onee-sama, unlike Five, is the kind of person who does things on her own, but she doesn’t have the knack for things. She’s pretty good with her hands, but she doesn’t know how to follow instructions. So I end up getting things done for her. But since she doesn’t try to pass off responsibility, it doesn’t bother me.
“Eh? What, really? Four-chan did this!? Ama~zing! So fast~! And good~!”
Two-onee-sama would never give fake praise, or compliments for the sake of giving them. She’s honestly impressed. Yes, she has a good heart. She’s bright, and honest, and gentle, and considerate.
It’s just that she’s a bit too straightforward, so I worry about her, as a little sister. Honesty and gentleness, when you think about them in another way, just mean gullible and easy to use, right?
Even without that, she’s so girly and cute. It isn’t weird for people to approach her for all the wrong things. When you look unreliable and frivolous, you make people think they can use you, and they really will.
But with Two-onee-sama, even if she has a bad experience, she’ll probably just think “next time will be better”. She’ll say something like “the next one is my soul mate”, and keep getting used and thrown away. That’s another thing I’m worried about.
See, even though she was born so cute, isn’t it horrible that trashy guys will waste her life? It’s a tragedy that she was blessed with such looks when she’ll fail at so much. When I think about how that’ll happen, I can’t help but worry. Yes, I’m really worried, you know?
“Four-chan, I love you! I’ll try them on right now.”
Just when I realized she was giggling as she changed, she started with “Yaaaay, they fit perfect!” and spinning around in place. It’s almost as if she’s the younger sister, and I’m the older one.
“Hey, hey, do they look good? Do they look good?”
Both Five and I nodded nervously, as Two-onee-sama turned about face with a big smile.
“I’m gonna go show One-nee-chan!”
Running out without even shutting the door, she’s like a child. Well, we are children. It’s easy to forget that we are when we’re travelling all over, defeating monsters and villains. It might also be because of the little sister I have who boasts about her breasts and spouts nothing but vulgar words.
That indecent sister approached me from behind. Nothing good could come of this.
“I wasn’t lying, was I?”
“You’re right. I was wrong, it seems.”
“But Four-onee-sama is so mean, treating me like I was the criminal. You’re so horrible. I’m positively wounded.”
She stuck to my back, and used a tone that showed me she wasn’t hurt in the least.
“…I was wrong.”
“Just wrong? You’re not sorry?”
“Huh~? I can’t hear you, though?”
“I AM SORRY!”
What’s with that, just because she’s not in the right often, she’s getting so high and mighty. It pisses me off!
“Can you get off me? Your chest is sticking into my back.”
Those uselessly big boobs piss me off too!
“Hau~n. You aren’t satisfied with them just touching you? Do you want to touch them directly? Four-onee-sama, you can’t do things like this with your flat chest, right? Squeezing them like thiiis~.”
“I’m sorry I’m flat! Who would want to touch those, anyway! It’s hot, so I want you to move! And stop saying ‘hau~n’! You’re so lewd, making sexy sounds when you’re just a brat! After all, all of your nutrients are going straight into your boobs, and that’s why you’re as dumb as a cow! Stupid! STUUUUUUPID STUUUUUPID STUUUUUUPID!”
“Kyaa, Four-onee-sama is sca~ry.”
“Shut up, cow woman! Go eat some grass!”
I started throwing everything I could get my hands on. The way she twisted her body and cried ‘no~’ while dodging pissed me off even more.
I hate her! I hate this! I hate everyone! I hate everything!
I’m not cute like Two-onee-sama, or pretty like, Three-onee-sama, and I’m flat, unlike Five!
I hate it! I hate my face! I hate my body! I’m not pretty, or cute, I just have a common face. My arms and legs are just lanky and stick-like, and my hair could barely be called waved.
The things I hate so much I could die, though, are my gross nails. If I let them, they’ll just keep growing, and they’ll start curling in, and breaking, and catching on things. I don’t need nails like this. I want to just rip them off and throw them away. I don’t need these arms, these legs, this face, anything!
I don’t… need me.
Me? I don’t need myself? No! It isn’t me that I don’t need!
It’s you! You useless sexy talking woman! Don’t get so full of yourself, with those huge meatsacks just hanging around! You’re even more useless than a pile of shit! I don’t need you! Die!
And that stupidly strong cutesy woman too, die! And that crazy scissor woman too, die! Just because you’re a bit nice looking, stop being so open about it! Just ‘cause the layer of skin on your head, who do you think you are? How about I rip off that pretty, pretty skin? Rip rip it off, shred shred it, stomp stomp it.
Ahahahahaha! Ahh, so fun. Ahh, so fun. Ahh, so fun…
By the time I’d realized what happened, the room was torn up. Even then, Three-nee-sama was still fast asleep. I wonder, isn’t she actually pretty amazing, being able to sleep through this? Even if she’s a weirdo.
Five seemed to have run off ages ago. She’s tricky at least, even if she’s an idiot.
“Aa~h, I’m such an idiot.”
I’ve gotta clean this up. If you make a mess, you clean it up yourself. That’s obvious. My sisters, who can’t do something as simple as that, just seem ridiculous.
Righting the chairs and tables that were flipped, picking up cups, sweeping the floors. Oh no, I threw plates too. Ones that Five ate off and left there, so there’s still bits of food on the broken shards.
“Why am I…”
I can’t even sigh anymore. But, even if she left them lying around in the first place, I was the one who broke them, so I can’t get mad at her.
I need to hold my temper more after this. Even if I’m pissed off, I need to hold it in. After all, no matter what I say or do, I’m the one who will lose.
After I finally finished cleaning up, I sat down. I’m not like Three-onee-sama, but I’m exhausted. Really exhausted.
“Is anyone here?”
I lifted my head from where I was lying on the table. One-nee-sama had walked in.
“One-nee-sama, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, good. Four, come help me.”
“Should I wake Three-nee-sama too?”
One-nee-sama glanced at the sleeping Three-nee-sama and shook her head.
“Three’s fine there. As long as you’re there, Four, we’re fine.”
As long as you’re there, Four. I repeated those words in my head. I’m happy. One-nee-sama appreciates me…
Out of all of us sisters, she’s the smartest, cleverest, and most reliable. Her sense of justice and obligation are strong. She’s not cute like Two-nee-sama, or beautiful like Three-nee-sama, but all of her expressions and actions seem so intelligent.
So I think the one I should aspire to be like is her. I can’t change what I look like, but I can at least become smarter.
Also, she’s flat too. Right now.
“One-nee-sama, what did you need help with?”
As I walked behind her, I asked.
“We need to repair this wagon. I got it from a farm close by.”
“Repair? A wagon? What are we gonna use it for?”
“We’ll have things to carry in our next destination.”
I could see her strong will as I looked at her face from the side. This is how she looks before a battle. Not for herself. A battle for all of the suffering people. One-nee-sama would never do anything unjust.
But sometimes I think it’s unfair. When I look at her carrying all of that duty and responsibility by herself.
After all, she’s not even the oldest. She’s only in this position right now because of unexpected events. She should be someone’s “little sister” too. Another person should act as the eldest, and keep all of us in line…
“Um… Um, I’ll try hard, and help you however I can, One-nee-sama. So don’t try to shoulder everything on your own.”
She looked a bit surprised, before softening her eyes and thanking me.
Because Two-nee-sama is unreliable, and Three-nee-sama is a weirdo, and Five is selfish. I need to be One-nee-sama’s strength. Even if she’s the most level-headed, everything must be too much for her to handle on her own, when she isn’t even the oldest.
It’s fine, I’ll help you. That’s what sisters are for. Yes, ignoring the others. Right, One-nee-sama?
Once I came to, One-nee-sama wasn’t there anymore. Neither was the wagon that needed repairs, or the empty house we were staying at. I was in my bed.
“Oh, it was a dream…”
Of course it was. After all, I’m not a kid anymore, and I’m not travelling anymore. Everything has changed. Even though I thought the five of us could travel together again…
If I could choose, I wish I could have seen an older dream. Far, far back, when I used to look up to the strong, beautiful Zero-nee-sama that I loved. A dream from back then.
No. I still love her. Because we’re sisters, family. I believe that one day, the gentle Zero-nee-sama will come back to us, and we’ll live together again. We’ll definitely be happy.
Even if everyone but me is gone.