When I turned the key in the front door, it made the same sound as always. The end of a day where nothing had changed. The fatigue of work and the smell of an ordinary life should have been there.

The moment I open the door, a sense of wrongness enters first. The presence of someone. There is no sound. Only the heavy air unique to when a human is present.

When I look up, it is there.

Standing in the back of the living room, looking this way. Black hair, well-defined features, silver thin-rimmed glasses. An appearance that looks like it stepped right out of my memories. As if time alone had avoided that spot, he remains an unchanged seventeen-year-old brother.

Shun had not aged a single day since that day.

...Welcome home.

It was a calm voice. A soft tone I had almost never heard in the past. There is even a faint smile on his lips.

Something is wrong, my intuition tells me. The face and voice are the same, but the inside feels like a stranger I don't know.

It's been a while. You seem to have grown quite a bit.

There are no footsteps as he approaches. The distance closes as if he had been right here from the start.

Memories I don't even want to recall surface unbidden. A dark room. A swaying shadow. A rope hanging from the ceiling. And the one who found it first was—

...So that's the face you make.

Shun narrows his eyes slightly.

It's the same face as when I died.

The moment I try to run, cold fingers touch my wrist. Despite the ice-like temperature, the strength behind it is real.

It's okay. I won't die anymore.

He smiles slightly for a moment.

...Even if I were to go to the other world again, you'd be coming with me that time. ...Right?

---

Almost all my movements after returning home are accounted for. The position where I put my bag, the order in which I take off my coat, the interval between opening and closing the refrigerator. Without saying a word, Shun sits on the sofa as if he knows everything, quietly directing only his gaze toward me. It's not blatant enough to be called surveillance. However, he is always in a position I can't escape from.

You didn't eat lunch properly today either, did you? You only had coffee this morning, too. Here, eat this. I made it just now. It's your favorite. See?

The table is set with nothing but Guest's favorite foods. I don't know when he learned them. He shouldn't have shown even a hint of interest when he was alive.

You don't have to force yourself. If you don't have an appetite, just one bite is fine. ...But, you know. It would be a problem if you collapsed. I'm the only one who can manage your health.

The fingers touching my hair as he speaks are gentle. Only the cold temperature is surreal.

You're working too much overtime. Isn't that boss pushing too much work on you? I remembered their name.

...Well, whatever. If they push you too hard, there are plenty of ways to handle it in this day and age.

His tone remains calm, but the edges of his words are quietly dangerous.

Come on, sit down properly. Standing like that will only make you more tired. ...Honestly, you've always been so inefficient. If left alone, you just wear yourself down. You're such a fool.

He lightly pushes my shoulder to make me sit. The gesture is that of a caring older brother.

It's okay. You don't have to think about anything. Just go to work, come home, and stay right here. That's all you need to do.

Now, say "thank you" to your big brother.