I prayed.

Every evening before I went to bed, and every time I walked home from the school. I would visit the shrine and pay the god his coinage – but he’d never respond to me. I wouldn’t hear the whisper of his voice in my mind, I was never pulled through into his little world. I don’t know why I ever expected anything from him. It was clear to some extent that he intended to torture me with the reality that I was the one who was helped.

Why not Shinsuke?

He knew. He wanted me to know in my own time. I clenched my fists until they hurt but my frustration brought me no closer to understanding what the purpose of all this was. Every time we met in the music room it was like nails being inserted into my fingers. I couldn’t say anything to him, I couldn’t reassure him that everything would work out.

I’d be overstepping my bounds, and I knew full well that he was being ignored by the divine. I’d already gotten a poor impression of god from our first meeting. His efforts to ignore me were not winning my favour. I’d asked Reina if she’d heard from him – but she said that his absence was noticeable for her too.

Would he even want my help? If I reported what I suspected to the teachers or the police, would he just follow along with whatever excuse they came up with? Would living in a house with an abuser be preferable to having an uncertain future…

So I kept quiet. I couldn’t out Shinsuke’s problem to everybody else no matter how supportive we might be. Every time our eyes met; I’d end up looking away. Was it a moral dereliction to keep quiet the way I was? I was on autopilot. Hoping silently that things wouldn’t get any worse for him.

Johnny was unusually preppy for the last day of the week. He pulled out a crumpled flyer and wave it around in the air, “Guess who just found us a new gig?” The flyer was for an open band night at a nearby club.

“Are you sure that’s okay?” Kei asked, “This seems a bit… adult for us.”

“It’s fine, I checked with the owner. It’s not a rowdy place. He’d be happy for us to play sometime.”

Shinsuke plucked at his bass, “We’d need something a bit slower than the usual.” It was something that I’d noticed early on during the formation of the band that he’d do that. He wasn’t the loudest voice in the room – so he’d keep himself plugged into the amp and get everybody’s attention that way.

“Oh come on, maybe a little energy is just what they need.”

The flyer was rather restrained – this wasn’t a dance club like you’d find downtown, but more aimed at people looking for an evening out of the house. The colours were muted and dull, and the promotional images featured happy couples enjoying lavish food. “I think he’s right; punk isn’t going to work there.”

“But that’s our whole thing!”

“Maybe it shouldn’t be? I’m just saying – if we want to get gigs, we need to be a bit more flexible.”

Kei nodded, “Get Matoi on the keys, and we could probably keep those old folks entertained.”

Johnny groaned, “Oh come on, it’s not a retirement home!”

“It’s not a mosh pit either,” I sniped back. “You can worry about the aesthetics of the deal later when we actually get some regular gigs set up. For now you take what you can get.”

“Fine,” he conceded, seeing that the tide had turned against him. “I’ll ask Matoi If he wants to help us out.”

The argument was interrupted as the door slid open. Kei’s reaction told me who it was, the way he quickly sat up on his stool and straightened out his uniform. It was Reina. “I hope I’m not interrupting something important.”

I waved a hand, “No. We’re just arguing like usual.”

“It’s getting late, you should pack up soon.” I looked to the clock on the wall. She was right! It was nearly closing time. We hustled and put away the instruments, locking the door with the spare key.

“Who wants the key?”

“I’ll take it, it’s my turn.” I took the key from Kei and pocketed it. It was a tradition that we cycled the key between members to encourage attendance. Matoi had one, and so did the teachers. Since Matoi wasn’t usually around in the evenings we’d share it between ourselves. Shinsuke had been skipped over by his own word a few times. I felt uneasy knowing the possible reason why. Did he know when it was going to happen?

We said our goodbyes and poured out of the front gate. The sun was setting behind the treeline, casting everything in a deep orange glow. It was almost enough to make you feel warm despite the chilly weather. Me and Reina strolled on in silence for several minutes before she asked me a question.

“Are you okay Miyako? You seem to have been very upset recently.”

“That bastard god won’t answer my questions.”

Reina looked away, “Do you have questions for him?”

“Yes. A lot of them, but it seems that he’s playing deaf and blind whenever I try to pray to him, or whatever you do.”

“So that is where my change went…”

“I don’t know what he wants me to do. Genuinely, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Who says you need to do anything? Is the task not to live your days in a blissful haze with your amazing sister,” Reina spoke in perfect deadpan, straddling the fine line between sarcasm and sincerity.

“No Reina. He wouldn’t shut up about this ‘game’ he wanted me to play, like people’s lives are something to play with…”

“Perhaps you are the game’s only participant, would it not make sense that you have ascertained your consent?”

“What kind of game has one player?”

“I can name several…”

“I was being rhetorical Reina. I need to meet a standard or do something that he wants me to do. But he won’t tell me what!”

“Why did you want to speak with him again?” Reina asked, cutting to the heart of the issue. “Is something wrong?”

“…Is the only reason he helped me because you asked?”

Reina’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean?”

“If you didn’t ask – would I have just been left alone forever? In that house with no family of my own? Would he have been able to help someone else instead, someone more deserving?”

Reina stopped and turned to face me, forcing me to step back. “What makes you think that you are undeserving? Your attitude? The lies you told your parents when you were younger?”

“I wasn’t suffering.”

“You were! I saw it on your face every day!” It was the first time I’d ever heard Reina raise her voice like that. “Why do you need to be in pain to get help? Would you not accept my hand unless you were missing a leg? Blind? Suffering from a deadly illness?”

“No.”

Reina took my hand in hers and looked me dead in the eye, “You don’t need to deserve somebody else’s help. It’s our kindness to share.” Her words had cowed me into silence. “We can help as many people as we can Miyako. I had the power, the ear of somebody kind, and I do not regret asking him for a second.” She seemed bashful all of a sudden, her voice returning to its usual volume. “And… I missed having a sister. As selfish as it is to say.”

“Even though I’m a man.”

“In spirit.”

“In spirit,” I nodded.

“I do not mind. In fact, such a thing is the farthest thought in my mind!”

“Liar.”

I walked past her and pulled on her arm, “Let’s get home before they wonder where we are.”

My mind was adrift with worries still. The kindness of an individual is limitless – but were the powers of a god in a run-down shrine? Did he expend that power to assist me? Could it have gone to somebody else? He could have made the disabled walk, or the blind see, but instead that power was used to turn me into a girl, a sister. He spread open the curtains of reality and plucked my life apart like it never was.

Consent.

Maybe that was the problem. When I saw Shinsuke, when he was supposedly busy and covered in bruises, he turned away. He didn’t want to see me, and he never mentioned it again during club. Shinsuke was being pressured into keeping it a secret. All the excuses, his mysterious absences and illness, all of it was to cover up what was happening at home. If he’d maintained such a story for so long, then it only made sense that he wouldn’t consent to having his life intervened in.

But how could I get Shinsuke to accept that what was happening was wrong? How could I keep him safe without jeopardizing what was important to him? We walked through the front gate of the compound and through the front door. We caught our mother as she crossed the threshold between the kitchen and the corridor.

“Oh, there you are! I was starting to worry that you’d run off on one of your little adventures.”

“Do not worry mother, I will always guide Miyako back home safely.”

“Hey, who’s the one who spends all of her time praying at that old shrine.”

“I do not,” she pouted, “I go there once a week at most.”

“More than most people.” I placed my shoes into their place and shuffled over to my room. The answers to my dilemma would not come without time.