I'm Being Threatened by My Sister's Ex-girlfriend. (GL) - Chapter 4

For the first full-force singing session in a while, nothing was enjoyable at all.

It started with the usual criticism: “Your high notes are off,” followed by complaints about my pitch, posture, volume, and even expression. Hakuto seemed determined to tear apart every aspect of my singing from every possible angle.

“Your sense of rhythm is a nightmare.”

“Pull in your stomach and tighten your glutes… wait, did you drop your abs on the side of the road? Should I go pick them up for you?”

“Have you ever listened to the original version?”

“Your sense of rhythm is a nightmare.”

“Your throat sounds off.”

Her sharp remarks were too much! By the time I finished my fifth song, I was mentally and physically drained. I shoved the microphone toward her, telling her to sing. And of course, she did it effortlessly, with perfect skill. It only made my frustration grow.

In a fit of irritation, I started shaking a tambourine out of tune, only for her to look down on me like I was trash. It was terrifying.

After pushing through another three songs in agony, Hakuto, like a judge handing down a verdict, declared:

“Fail.”

Fail at what?

“So, let’s start vocal training.”

“Ehhh…”

“I want to hear Ichika-senpai sing. If it’s just the same voice, then it’s pointless. Do you want your identity to leak and get canceled?”

Hakuto tapped on her smartphone with her finger. Don’t threaten older people so casually, I thought. Reluctantly, I nodded.

But what exactly is vocal training? It seemed like Hakuto didn’t have a concrete plan either. She began fiddling with her phone.

“Okay, how about we try this thing called ‘lip rolls’?”

“What’s that?”

“Here, let me show you.”

On the screen of her iPhone, it displayed: “Vocal Training Basics! Benefits and How to Do Lip Rolls.” A sketchy article written by someone anonymous.

“It’s a practice where you blow air through your lips to make them vibrate. It helps with vocal control, and even pros do it before live performances.”

“Ehhh, does that even work…”

“Just do it. I can’t stand hearing you try high notes with that voice, it’s uncomfortable.”

With that, she slumped back onto the couch. I reluctantly scrolled through the browser.

Lip rolls. You puff your cheeks and blow air through your lips to make them vibrate. It sounded like a skill a mischievous elementary school boy would use to mess with his classmates.

I tried it, but I couldn’t do it. Pffft—my breath just leaked out helplessly. The image was ridiculous.

“Heh.”

“Did you just laugh?”

“I didn’t laugh. No, like this… this is how you do it.”

Hakuto, too, puckered her pink-glossed lips. She inhaled and blew air out.

Pffft.

“…It’s not working.”

“You can’t do it either.”

For a while, we both kept blowing air out with a “pffft” sound. What is this? What kind of time is this?

Hakuto was the first to get the hang of it. Her lips, glistening with moisture, vibrated as she blew air out, then she even tried adding a simple scale.

“Yeah, it’s definitely easier when you use abdominal breathing.”

“I thought I was doing that.”

“Just a second.”

Hakuto stood up and walked around the low table, placing her hand on my cheek. The scent of vanilla hit my nose.

For a brief moment, I felt a little out of breath from the sweetness.

“Doing it like this should make it easier. Go ahead, try it.”

Can I do it? Also, her face is way too close. Her sense of personal space is completely off. Does she really want to see my silly face this close?

“I’ll do it myself, so let go…”

I shook my hand free and pressed my cheek with it. I took a deep breath, focusing on my stomach.

Pff—pff—brrrrr.

I did it.

Once I got the hang of it, it wasn’t that difficult. The key was to really push with my stomach while exhaling for the sound to come out right.

I kept my lips vibrating absentmindedly when a karaoke remote was handed to me.

“It’s not like it’ll change immediately.”

That’s true. But after practicing, of course, I wanted to try it out.

I ran my finger over the touch panel and began thinking about which song to choose. The golden rule for karaoke if you want to impress is, “Pick a song that fits your voice better than the one you like.” A song that suits my voice, and one that Hakobe might want to hear.

In the back of my mind, I caught a glimpse of a white sailor uniform.

An image of a spring morning flashed across my chest. The salty breeze sticking to my hair as I walked, chasing the same height of a back, remembering the spring sea.

Back then, Ichika had been humming a song.

Following the pull of that memory, I hit the reserve button.

The intro of an upbeat song began to play from the speaker. On the display, a couple walking in the park appeared along with the song title.

“Ah.”

Hakobe muttered quietly.

It was a hit from a former underground idol who had debuted a few years ago. The song was a favorite of Ichika Shinonome, who, despite her slightly geeky side, was well known for this one.

I stood up and grabbed the microphone. The intro finished. From the first verse, filled with lament for the trudging days, to the second verse that noticed the glow of love, and into the chorus. The girl shouts while running.

“I know it’s unrequited.”
“How could I say I love you?!”

I wasn’t sure if it was because of the lip roll practice, but I felt my high notes stretching smoothly, comfortably.

Waiting for the bridge, I glanced behind me, thinking, “How’s that?”

Then, I froze.

Hakobe was crying.

Tears rolled silently down her cheeks, glistening in the light.

The first verse started again. I set the microphone down and walked over to Hakobe. But I didn’t know how to speak.

Because I was Tsuguno Shinonome, not Ichika Shinonome.

I wasn’t her former lover.

As I stared, her tears stopped. Hakobe touched her fingers to her cheek, her voice hoarse and wet.

“…I’m sorry.”

“Ah, no… it’s okay…”

She grabbed her handbag and quietly stood up.

Her makeup wasn’t messed up enough to need fixing, but I almost said it anyway. I choked on the words.

From behind, I heard a faint sob. Her fragile back disappeared behind the soundproof door.

A male group promoting a new song performed a clumsy comedy skit that echoed around the dim room.

I looked down.

On top of the drink menu, a transparent gem shattered.

We didn’t extend our time and left the karaoke place. In the end, we split the bill.

The sky, now in the evening, was deep indigo, sinking into the horizon. The woman who had hidden her indigo-colored hair, now in contrast with the sky, walked half a step behind me, heading in the opposite direction from when we arrived.

At the red light, she stood beside me.

“—That last song…”

I looked over at her. Her face was hidden beneath the parasol, so I couldn’t see her expression.

“It was a little bit good.”

She said that after crying like a child. How typical of her.

“But still not enough. The way you handle the scales and the way your voice stretches—you’re far from Ichika-senpai.”

I realized again. Her obsession with Ichika was truly unnatural.

This beautiful girl had sought a replacement for her ex-lover, tracked down her sister’s address, and sent threatening messages.

I wondered how much Ichika had told her about me. She said she knew my university’s name. Did she mention my address? No, I doubt that. But maybe she managed to find me out of the vast campus, following me around? Even though she still had high school classes?

I imagined Hakobe, holding a parasol, watching the university gates on a summer afternoon.

It seemed really crazy.

The kind of madness you see when someone searches for a needle in a desert. A misplaced, extreme passion, to put it bluntly, feels disturbing.

I spoke.

“So, what do you want from me?”

“I think I’ve already told you.”

The parasol tilted, revealing her face beneath. Behind her cool, serene expression was an overwhelming heat that I could almost feel. If I touched her carelessly, I might be burned to the core by her intensity.

“Please become a replacement for Ichika-senpai. I need that person, even if it’s a fake.”

The warm night breeze stirred her hair, and the vivid blue of the sky flickered.

“If you’ll replace her, I’ll do anything. Whatever you want, Tsuguno-san. I’ll offer my effort, my service, anything.”

Finally, I understood.

She was Serious. She was trying to turn me into a substitute for Ichika Shinonome, with all her heart.

In other words, this was Hakobe Shirato’s version of summoning spirits.

Trying to revive a past love through me, Tsuguno Shinonome.

It was hopelessly futile. Sure, Ichika and I shared the same genes, but we were ultimately two very different people. And Hakobe, of all people, should understand that best.

I was just a downgraded copy of Ichika Shinonome. Always had been, and always will be.

But still.

I think her wish is beautiful precisely because it’s as barren as a wasteland.

This obsession, this discomfort—if this isn’t love, then what is it?

I shifted my gaze away from Hakuto.

I found myself staring at the traffic light, which had changed to blue without me noticing, and said:

“You’re probably planning to threaten me even if I say no.”

“Well, yeah.”

She didn’t even deny it. She really is like a devil.

But well, it’s fine. I probably made up my mind the moment I saw those tears.

“Fine. I’ll be your stand-in for Ichika’s ex-girlfriend.”

Her pale eyes widened in surprise. What? After all this threatening, she didn’t expect this reaction?

“…Are you sure? I’m kind of a troublesome girl, you know?”

“I know.”

In fact, that’s pretty much all I know about her.

“But if you do something like what happened today again, I’ll call the cops.”

I held out my right hand.

After a brief moment, she shook it back with a strength I didn’t expect—like a lost child finally finding their parent, clinging desperately.

By the way, Hakuto said, “So, what exactly is ‘something like today’?”

“Huh?”

“How far are you willing to go if you’re taking Ichika-senpai’s place?”

“Wh—what do you mean, ‘how far’?”

What does that even mean? What’s the starting point, and where’s the finish line?

In a flash, the scene from earlier came back to me. The sensation of her touch vividly resurfaced.

If I hadn’t rejected her, how far would Hakuto have gone?

“W-wait! That’s not what I meant!”

“I understand. But this should be okay, right?”

Her hand, which had been shaking mine, smoothly repositioned itself. Between my fingers, her fingers slid in.

She pulled me toward her, almost forcibly. My feet stumbled. My whole body was consumed under the shade of her white parasol—trapped like an insect in a carnivorous plant.

My vision was filled with skin. If I looked closely, I realized it was Hakuto’s face.

I was being kissed.

Her lips smelled like vanilla. Even though my body felt frozen, not moving, my sense of smell sharply caught that sweetness.

Her lips parted. Just before she pulled away, her tongue slid across my upper teeth.

“Eh—”

“Hmm.”

Under the same parasol, with a distance so close I could count her eyelashes, Hakuto whispered, “Not just the smell, but the taste is the same.”

“Y-you—!”

I raised my fist.

Hakuto, pretending to cover her head, dashed across the crosswalk. The traffic light, which had started to blink, turned red the moment she reached the other side.

I lowered my fist, which had nowhere to go.

The cars that had been waiting at the light began to move slowly. At that moment, I felt the heat on my cheeks, like I’d been seen.

“See you later, Tsuguno-san!”

On the other side of the road, Hakuto—no, Hakobe—lowered her parasol and waved at me energetically. Her pleated skirt swayed in the lukewarm summer breeze.

“I’m going to do everything I couldn’t do with Ichika-senpai with you, Tsuguno-san! Get ready!”

She cupped her hand to the side of her mouth and shouted. It was such a selfish, absurd declaration. But—

“Also, just call me ‘Hakobe’!”

If I just look at this one moment, she was almost absurdly pure and wholesome, like the clearest summer sky.

The cars that had been stopped finally cleared. By then, Hakuto—Hakobe—had already disappeared from view.

I stood there, frozen, until the light changed again.

My breathing was still shallow, and I felt a tightness in my chest.

I mumbled, almost without thinking, “What the hell is with that girl…”

She was perverse, insane, unsettling—but at the same time, like the cool, clear sky of summer.

She must be a summer monster, I thought.