They took the wife in the divorce

Shouichi was an intimidating man. He stared down his nose at Amane, his thick brows narrowing his eyes into a glare. “Why me?”

It was a little late to be asking, seeing as the rest of the process completed this morning. Still, she couldn’t blame him for his curiosity. It didn’t even make sense to her. But God’s plan didn’t always need to make sense – you just needed to follow it.

She folded her hands neatly together in front of her. “It may sound silly to you, but... I had… a dream. A message. Your name came to me. All I knew… I knew I’d be safe with the Kajiyamas.”

Shouichi mulled over her words in silence. His eyes flicked over her expression until she broke her gaze away.

Then he knelt in front of her.

“I understand you were raised in a very religious household. I must warn you, I don’t believe in messages from God like that.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “But as long as you’re sure you want this, you are free to stay with us.”

She didn’t realize how much tension she’d been holding within herself until tears sprung to her eyes. She caught her breath. “Th-thank you, sir. I really do.”

He offered a curt nod. “Alright.” Moving to the doorway of the little office, he called down the hall. “Fuu-chan, come here. This is the young lady I told you about.”

A boy crept through the doorway. He had his father’s wild red hair, though his eyes were rounded rather than calculating. He seemed awfully small, though he was only a year younger.

Shouichi gestured to Amane. “I’d like you to meet your new sister. This is… er, you’re changing your name, correct? What should he call you?”

She didn’t truly believe anyone in her cult would come after, but she had readily agreed when the social workers suggested a new identity. This was her fresh start. Her rebirth.

Her mind spun with name possibilities. She never watched much TV, and had few friends her age. What were good names for a little girl? For a daughter? For a big sister?

“Nagisa.” She blurted. Something tugged at the back of her mind, but there was no time to discern why she’d stated it so confidently. Shouichi was pulled away to finish paperwork. The two children were left facing each other in silence. Amane shifted on her feet.

Suddenly lurching into motion, Fuuta stepped closer. He dug his arm into his pocket. Without meeting Amane’s eyes, he pulled out an action figure. It was some superhero, scratched up and with bite marks on one of the legs.

“Pa said you’ve been through something scary.” He muttered. “That’s why you’re living with us. Sometimes, to feel brave, I… um...” He shoved the figure forward, too embarrassed to finish. “You can keep it.”

Though the motion was aggressive, he offered the toy somewhat reluctantly. Rather than accept, she curled her fingers around both the toy and his hands.

“You don’t have to give this to me – it can be both of ours. We’re family now, right?”

“O-oh. Yeah.”

Kajiyama Nagisa smiled.

---

Over the years of cheering up her scowling baby brother, Nagisa assumed she was prepared for whatever ridiculous trouble he’d gotten himself into this time. She could not have been more wrong.

She stared out of her bedroom window, her gaze somewhere else entirely. Her legs floated under her; she didn’t feel connected to the world around her. Memories tore through her mind.

Never able to handle too much silence, Fuuta spoke up at last.

“So, you remember now?” He perched on her bed, his hands wringing his hoodie strings so that they frayed.

“Not all the details,” she said distantly. “Back then… it was all a blur, and I thought it was some kind of nightmare. They tell you that trauma does weird things. A religious chorus kid could definitely have a dream about judgment, and the afterlife, and music. I could have heard your name said out on the street, or read it somewhere. I never thought… I mean, it was never real...”

“It was real, Amane.”

No one had called that in over a decade. The sound rung in her ears, stirring deep inside her.

“Do you at least remember,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “we were close?”

“Well, it sort of merged with growing up together. We were always close, you know.”

“Yeah.”

She remained silently watching the flicker of lights from the surrounding buildings. The tightening in her chest squeezed all the way up her throat, until a sob broke through.

She turned to Fuuta. “I’m sorry.” She covered her mouth, leaning back against the window for support. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember sooner. I had the chance to warn you, to save you. I should have saved you.”

“No.” He stood, frantic at her sudden change in demeanor. “I didn’t tell you when things got bad because, well, I thought you wouldn’t understand. Ironic, huh? But also…”

He wrapped her in a hug. Though he stood mere centimeters taller, an old feeling washed over her – a time where she curled up in his lap, wholly encircled by him.