My Little Sister Can Read Kanji: Volume 1

by Takashi Kajii

  “Will you stop it already? Why can’t you learn to keep your mouth shut?!” Kuroha complained, her face now red as a ripe tomato.

  “I will state my opinion! I must give Haruka-sensei credit for his ability to write a book with that subject matter. But I do think his nomination was a radical choice.”

  “Yes, that book almost went into the realm of philosophy. It’s definitely a work of the crazy, radical Haruka-kun of old. It brings me back, really... Back when we were younger, Haruka-kun and I would have some lively arguments in the literary hangout bars in SHINJUKU’s GOLDEN GAI.”

  In the literary magazines, the battle between jitsumai fans and gimai fans had raged on without end. Ever since Odaira-sensei and Haruka-sensei had debuted, they’d been destined to be rivals for eternity. I was certain that Odaira-sensei had no interest in losing to Haruka-sensei when it came to literary prizes.

  “Your LILSIS ☆ STAR is a shoo-in to win, Sensei. It is the most orthodox of all the books that were nominated, so don’t worry!”

  “Thank you. It’s one of my best works, if I do say so myself. My little sisters also say it’s very good.”

  Kuroha looked like something was off when he said that. “I’ve been wondering since you mentioned them earlier, but are your little sisters at home?”

  “Yes, they’re here. All 20 of them.”

  “...huh?”

  He tapped his head. “They live in here. From my debut work’s Azu to my latest book’s Rin,” he said, putting a hand up to his ear.

  He must be listening to his little sisters.

  In an interview, he had once said that he often communicated with his little sisters. So that’s what he meant by that!

  “Uh, oh! Azu is acting very jealous. She doesn’t like it when I swoon over beautiful ladies like you, Kuroha-kun.”

  “Uh... ew.” Kuroha’s face turned a slight shade of blue.

  “Azu’s been my little sister for 50 years now, and she still doesn’t understand me. What a troublemaker she is. She should know that high schoolers are out of my range by now!”

  “Just in case, I want to clarify something. You are saying you won’t go after kids like me?”

  “No, no, that’s backwards. You’re way too old.”

  “I am not old!”

  Don’t get mad at him! I thought. He’s saying you’re a beautiful lady, is all.

  He put his hand up to his ear once again and began to smile and nod.

  “Oh? You need to go wee-wee? Let’s go to the bathroom, then,” he said, standing up. “Probably should change these out.” Odaira-sensei took off the panties on his head as he left the room.

  After he was gone, Kuroha looked at me with an exhausted expression.

  “So, his little sisters are always ten-years-old, right?”

  “Yup. They’re all ten.”

  “Do ten-year-olds say ‘wee-wee’?”

  “Why not? It’s very common for two-year-olds, so this gap gives them a unique personality.”

  Kuroha had no response to this. Instead, she said, “What do you think of Odaira-sensei, now that you see him acting this way?”

  You really ask the strangest questions.

  “He’s a hentai,” I said.

  Kuroha looked a bit relieved. “Yeah, that’s also what I think.”

  “A hentai genius, that is!”

  “What?”

  “Being called a hentai is a compliment, you know. I must take this opportunity to learn his amazing ways!”

  “A-A-A-A-Absolutely no way!” Kuroha said with such force that she stuttered over her words. “You are you, okay? You don’t need to try and copy someone else. You should aim for your own original style. I think that’s for the best.”

  Yeah, you have a point. One should always aim high.

  “You’re right,” I said, and Kuroha let out a sigh of relief. I never realized you cared so much about my originality. It brought a warmth to my heart.

  Afterward, we waited quietly until Odaira-sensei returned from the bathroom. But he was taking his time to appear.

  “Onii-chan, the author of Oniaka only gained recognition after he died, right?” asked Kuroha, perhaps out of boredom.

  “That’s what I’ve heard, yes.”

  “Do you think what he was saying earlier about the pattern of the panties representing the state of Japan is actually true? Seems like he’s reading too much into it to me.”

  “Kuroha,” I began, in a surprisingly low voice. “Odaira-sensei said it was so, yes? That the red of the panties was the color of the blood of his countrymen. If that is how he read it, then that is what it means.”

  “But something doesn’t sound right about it.”

  “Do you have to question everything?”

  You’ll never make any friends this way! I worried about her. As her older brother, I wondered if she needed to be helped along the way to being a more trusting, open person.

  Just as I was about to admonish her, Odaira-sensei returned. He was no longer wearing panties on his head.

  “Sorry I kept you waiting so long,” he said, carrying a bundle of papers in his hand.

  I wonder what those are?

  “You came on a good day. I was thinking I would let you read some of my brand new work.”

  “Brand new! Are you sure it’s okay?!”

  “Yes. It’s still incomplete, though, so only the opening section.”

  “Please, allow me the honor!”

  I’m going to be able to read Sensei’s new work before the other 80 million citizens of Japan! I couldn’t believe my amazing luck. “For this work, I am writing a period piece,” he said, sounding self-satisfied.

  “A period piece?”

  “Yes. It takes place during the beginning of the 21st century, in the Heisei era.” He sat down on the couch, and handed me the first page of the manuscript.

  The Heisei era... It had been quite a peaceful time in Japan’s history. Compared to the Showa era and Japan’s participation in World War II, or the Meiji Restoration, it might even seem quite unremarkable. Of course, it wasn’t as if nothing happened. There were natural disasters, and economic downturns, but Japan had recovered quickly.

  For him to have chosen the Heisei era as the setting for his new work means that he wasn’t going to rely on some famous historical incident or person, but instead wanted to really focus on the writing itself. I have a feeling this is going to be a masterpiece.

  With great anticipation, I looked down upon the manuscript.

  “I’m late, I’m laaaate!”

  Kiyoshi was in a hurry. He shouldn’t have been watching videos on that website the entire night. He’d completely overslept. It was no good to be late on the first day of a new semester.

  He ran as fast as he could, taking a shortcut through a park and out onto the main road.

  That was when it happened.

  He ran into a girl who was running just like him.

  “Uwa!”

  “Kya!”

  He saw her panties as she fell down. They were sky blue. Kiyoshi panicked, and looked away.

  “...Owwww.”

  “Are you okay?” Kiyoshi asked, offering his hand.

  “O-Onii-chan...” she said, looking shocked.

  “What?” Kiyoshi was an only child. He shouldn’t have a little sister.

  “It hurts...” she said, patting her butt. It seemed like she had bumped it.

  “I’ll lick it for you,” suggested Kiyoshi. “If you lick something that hurts, that should make it better.”

  “No, thank you,” she replied without hesitation.

  Kiyoshi was disappointed. He decided that he would have to settle for fantasizing about licking her butt.

  What is this...! This was completely shocking to me.

  “Sensei...”

  He looked at me with sly smile, pleased with his prank. You can’t be serious that this is your new work, right? After all, I...

  “I can’t read it.” There were too many
kanji.

  It wasn’t just that the setting was during the Heisei era... This book was in fact written as a Heisei era novel would have been at the time!

  No one in current-day Japan could understand this!

  “Fuwahaha... Perhaps I have gone too far.”

  “Did you write this yourself, Sensei?”

  “Of course.”

  Amazing... I had heard that he was able to read kanji, but he can write them, too? No normal author could write modern literature like that. His skills were on par with the best literary historians.

  “How were you able to learn all the kanji, Sensei?”

  “I wanted to read some modern literature, so that’s why I studied them. FYI, the first kanji I learned were 身体測定(body measurements).” Shin-tai-soku-tei. I wonder what they mean? Just hearing him pronounce them makes my head hurt.

  “You’re going to write your next novel in the modern literature style.”

  “Oh, hardly. This is just me fooling around a bit. I was trying to get in the spirit of the period, and before I knew it my pen was writing modern literature.” Oh, so that’s what it is.

  “I have the real one, here,” he said, handing over another manuscript page. This time it looked like current-day literature. This was, without a doubt, Sensei’s new work!

  “You will be the first person to read it.” Such an honor. I am not worthy!

  I was moved almost to tears, but I held them back for now was not the time. The time for crying would come afterward.

  With a feeling of great joy, I read the manuscript.

  COMESIN→KIYOSHI

  KIYOSHI: “SO LATES”

  WATCH UTUBS SLEEPSIN←DUMDUM

  LATE DAY1 ONOS

  INPARKOUT

  HITGIRL KABAM☆

  KIYOSHI: “UWA”

  GIRL: “MYA!”

  WAWAWA FALLROLL PANTYS KIRARI☆

  KIRA KIRA

  KIRARI☆

  PANTYS→SKYBLUE

  KIYO B SHY

  GIRL: “OWYOWY”

  KIYOSHI: “TAKE HAND PLZ”

  GIRL B SHOKKU

  GIRL: “O ONIICHAN”

  KIYOSHI: “WHA”

  KYOSHI NO SISTER, WHYS?

  GIRL: “OWOW”

  GIRL BUMP RUMP PATPAT

  KIYOSHI: “I LICKS IT YES?”

  LICKS HEALS PROBS

  GIRL: “NOES”

  KIYO B DOH

  KIYO TOTES WANTS LICK←DREAMING

  BUTT LICKY

  LICK LICK

  LICKY☆

  —I wasn’t able to hold back my tears.

  I was the first person to read a work from Gai Odaira. That alone was more than I could have dreamed, but the content itself was what truly moved me. Just the fact that it was a true and proper Odaira-sensei work made me feel right at home. It was like nourishment taken in from the eyes!

  The little sister appears right from page one, and without delay the oh-so-very literary staple, the panty flash... I was still reeling from the experience. This was Orthodox style literature in its most pure form.

  What really stood out to me was the use of KIRARI(flash a light) instead of CHIRARI(flash a peak). They had not yet invented self-defense glowing panties in the Heisei era, so it was not as if her panties had actually flashed. And yet, he had written it as if they had actually flashed. This was exactly what he had meant when he said that novels must describe.

  It must mean that the little sister must see the main character as a star of hope! Or perhaps, it could be some commentary about society.

  Yes, I was embarrassed to cry, but Odaira-sensei had shown his feelings to me with this story more than any mere words could have expressed. So yes, I cried! I cried without inhibition! This...

  This is Sensei’s literature!

  “KIRARIN! PANTYS SKYBLUE,” he said all of a sudden.

  “What?”

  “That’s the title of my new work.”

  I replied, still in tears. “KIRARIN! PANTYS SKYBLUE.”

  Profound.

  Perhaps this would be a more serious work than his previous books. I had that feeling just from reading the opening scene. This is how I truly felt: with this book, Odaira-sensei will become truly godlike!

  “Let me read it.” While I was still shaking from emotion, Kuroha snatched the manuscript and began to read it.

  Kuroha, it’s okay to cry! However after she finished reading I didn’t notice any change. She was completely calm.

  “I see it starts with a panty flash like many other books. Have you considered any other plot points?

  “Kuroha-kun, are you asking me to not drink water? To not breathe the air?”

  “I don’t believe that answers the question, but...”

  “Opening a novel with a panty flash is so crucial, you might as well have asked me those questions instead. If I don’t start a book with a panty flash, I lack all motivation to continue to write.”

  “...I should have known better than to ask.”

  Kuroha, what is with that reaction of yours? This is terrible! At this rate you are going to grow up into an emotionless adult!

  I had made up my mind. On the train ride home I would teach Kuroha about the wonders of Gai Odaira literature. I would tell her in detail about every book!

  I think I’ll start with teaching her the pattern on the panties of each of his heroines...

  ☆

  Entry May 1st, 2202,

  It is not my wont to speak overly of myself to others. But oh, do I so deplore this world.

  Every person has someone or something for which they live their lives. As for myself, it is literature. Even from a young age, my toys were letters and from the time I could tell them apart I preferred the pen to the chopstick. I believed, like my ancestor Torahiko Toji, that I would soon give to the world beautiful works of literature. With my gifts as a writer, it should have been no difficulty whatsoever.

  But Japanese literature is dead.

  Though I knew the horrendous state of literature, somewhere deep in my heart I believed that the spark of proper literature still burned somewhere in this country. I trusted in the goodness of the Japanese people.

  Clutching to this final grain of hope, I ventured to a book store. It was my objective to check the nominations for the most prestigious literary award in Japan. Even just a tiny glimpse... All I wanted to see was some sign or signal of another who agreed with me.

  GAI ODAIRA, “LILSIS ☆ STAR”

  HARUKA HARUKA, “My Little Sister Can’t Go to the Bathroom Alone”

  NUSHISAMA, “ANEDARUMA”

  TOP OF TOP, “MAGNIFICENT! AN ENCYCLOPEDIA OF PREPUBESCENT GIRLS”

  SAKU KOGURE, “Usubi”

  Yes, I had read them all.

  But all that they left in my heart was despair.

  I could hardly stand reading any of them. They are worth less than dust. Such pinnacles of vulgarity. Only Usubi had taken a different direction, but it was still a far cry from the literature I so longed for.

  I have come to a realization. There is no place in this literary world for me.

  The literature my ancestor Torahiko had written that stretched from the Meiji era to the Taisho era has been destroyed. The beautiful prose... The grand stories... All have vanished. The Japanese people have fallen into depravity, their words have been snuffed out, their culture gone rotten.

  Yes, and this all began long, long ago.

  I can but drown my sorrows in sake, shedding tears for what has been lost.

  Chapter 2 - The Heisei Exhibit

  It had been a month since I had met Odaira-sensei.

  After that experience, I had finished writing my novel and submitted it for the Newcomer’s Prize. It was my fifth entry.

  Like Oniaka had once done for me, my desire was that my novels would move a great number of readers’ hearts – that it would give many people hope. And ever since I had met Odaira-sensei, that wish had grown even stronger.

  By exchanging emails,
we had become friends. I was so glad that he would always respond, despite being such a busy man.

  The emails were mostly about my younger little sister, Miru. He would ask me about her likes and dislikes, her measurements, how often she wet the bed... Detailed questions like that. I was happy to help him with such research for creating new characters.

  He was very insistent about meeting Miru. I would have brought Miru to see him sooner, but he never seemed to have an opening in his busy schedule. He wasn’t just writing novels – he also maintained a full slate of interviews and lectures.

  He had resigned himself to not being able to meet her for a little while, but then he pulled a lot of strings and managed to open up an entire day for us.

  “I can’t stand it anymore!” he’d said.

  And so, walking beside me to the nearest train station was a little girl, my youngest sister Miru. Next to her walked Kuroha. With Miru in the middle, we made the shape of the 川 kanji.

  The three of us were heading to TOKYO.

  I had promised to bring Miru to see Odaira-sensei the last time we’d met. The day to fulfill that promise had finally come.

  Kuroha had complained, “I just said that to get you out of a jam!” and made a fuss, but it wasn’t as if I could betray my promise.

  Today, we were not just going to visit his home. He had said he would give us a tour of a history museum he recommended.

  I might be able to get some inspiration for my novels from history! I can’t wait...

  It was all thanks to Miru that I would be able to meet Odaira-sensei once again. I looked over in her direction.

  Miru was a fourth-grader in elementary school, and ten years old. She was normal height for someone her age, her head reaching up to the center of my stomach. She had on a cat-eared beret that she was fond of, and was wearing a one-piece dress with a little bag hung across her shoulder.

  Her face, as you might expect, resembled that of her sister Kuroha. She had a cool expression on her face, and her eyes and nose were mounted precisely in position.

  She’ll be quite the beauty when she grows up...

  Miru was also reading a book as we walked.

  “Miru, that’s dangerous,” cautioned Kuroha, but Miru paid her no attention, absorbed in her book.