The Happy Two Hours Before My Parents Get Home

My father and mother hadn't come home yet.

I loved that time.

Even though I was at home, I felt more at ease when my parents weren't there.
Thinking about it now, it's a strange thing.

But for me back then,
that was the most natural thing.

─────

I would go home as soon as school ended.

As long as it wasn't too late, only my younger sisters would be there.
My father and mother were both away at work.

I would open the front door.

"I'm home."

A voice would call back from the living room.

"Welcome back!"

"Oh, you've already started, huh?"

I would hurry into the living room.

My sisters were inside the kotatsu, playing rock-paper-scissors to decide the turn order for a game.
On top of the kotatsu, there was a mountain of peeled mandarin orange peels.

"Wow, that looks fun. Let me join in."

I would sit at the kotatsu in my school uniform and take an orange.

"Sure. But we already decided the order, so you're last, big sister."

My middle sister said.

"How many minutes per person today?"

"30 minutes. So, it's Momo-chan's turn now, and I'm next."

"Got it. Ah, I'm hungry. I'm going to have some ramen."

I would stand up and head to the kitchen.
I'd rustle open a pack of instant noodles, put water in a pot, and set it on the stove.

"Eh? You're eating now even though there's dinner later?"

"Because I'm hungry."

My turn was last anyway.
If I ate slowly, it would be just right.

While standing in front of the steaming pot,
I would listen to my sisters' voices from the living room.

"Only 5 minutes left! I'm next!"

"I know!"

Momo-chan was eating an orange while seriously gripping the controller.

I would slurp my ramen,
watching them and laughing.

Eventually, the turns would rotate, and it would finally be my turn.
When 30 minutes had passed, I glanced at the clock.

It was almost 5:30.

"It's about time, isn't it?"

Someone said.

I would stop the game.

The three of us would stand up and face each other across the kotatsu.
Even without saying anything, it would start when the time came.

"Here we go."
"Rock-paper-scissors, shoot!"

The air would get a little tense.

Hands would fly out.
Our voices would overlap.

"Ugh, I lost."
"Yay, first place!"

Even while laughing, we were serious.

My two sisters threw rock.
I threw scissors.

"…Ah, I lost."
I would let my shoulders slump.

"Looks like laundry is a done deal for you."

"Yeah, if you lose, that's it, right?"
My sister would laugh.

In the order we won,
we would pick our chores.

The most popular was preparing dinner.
Next was cleaning the bath and the living room.
And the one left for last was the laundry.

The laundry was at the far end of the second floor.
A cold, dark room.

"It's so cold, and I can't even tell if it's dry."
Muttering to myself, I would stand up.


"Ah, it's freezing."
The laundry room is at the very back, up the stairs.

Cold air would rise from the wooden floor to my feet.
The chill would seep through my socks up to my thighs.

My breath was white.
"My breath is white; it might as well be outside."

I would fold the laundry with my red, numb hands.
I couldn't really tell if it was dry or still damp.
I would just fold it anyway.

My fingertips would get cold.
"Ah, I lost again today."

I would fold them one by one.

A hoodie.
Father's dress shirt.
My sister's small socks.

From the floor below, I could faintly hear my sisters' voices.
I would put the folded laundry into a basket and go down the stairs.

In the living room, dinner was ready.
The warmed-up side dishes were lined up, and the table had been wiped.

I would put the laundry in each of our rooms and return to the kotatsu.

"It was so cold!"
"Big sister, you're slow."

"It was laundry, so I couldn't help it."

"That room is cold, isn't it? There's definitely a ghost in there."
"Don't say scary things."

The three of us would sit down.

Itadakimasu.

We would eat dinner while talking about trivial things.
While watching TV, we would talk about what happened today.

When we finished eating, we would clean up and take a bath.

The three of us would go into the dressing room,
and squeeze into the bathtub together.

"It's hot."
"Don't move."
"It's cramped."

Laughter would echo.

I was the only high schooler,
but when we were like this, the age difference didn't really matter.

The night was still quiet,
and my father and mother hadn't returned.

The time just for the three of us
continued as if it were the most natural thing.

──────────
🫧Me in this form

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