On Saturday morning, exactly one week after Izumi's move-in day, I woke up to the sound of the vacuum cleaner.

When I got up from bed, the sun was already high in the sky and the room was bright with sharp rays of sunlight coming through the gap between the curtains. It was very hot. My body was slightly sweaty, and sweat trickled down from my sideburns to my neck.

I looked at the clock on my bedside table and saw that it was past eleven o'clock.

I had slept well last night, not waking up until this time, probably because I had stayed up late reading a book and fell asleep late, and also because I was tired from the week's work.

I stretched out my upper body on the bed. My thighs, calves, and abs were mildly sore. I yawned and exhaled thinly in a daze when there was a knock at the door.

In a daze, I replied in a sleepy voice and heard Izumi's voice through the door, "Kenichi-kun, auntie says you have to get up now."

"... Okay."

I put my slippers that I had taken off under the bed and opened the door to my room, with the bed hair on my head. And there was Izumi with a vacuum cleaner.

She was wearing a sleeveless blue shirt, brown shorts, and red slippers on her bare feet.

"Cleaning your room?

I asked, my head still a little fuzzy, and Izumi nodded.

"Yeah. I was cleaning my room and around the stairs."

"I see."

Even when I stood up, my drowsiness didn't go away and I started yawning. I stretched my shoulders and noticed Izumi staring blankly into my room, which I had left open.

"Izumi?"

When I questioned her, she reacted with a jolt, as if she had come to her senses.

"I'm sorry! I just thought it was a big bookshelf."

"Oh, that?"

I opened the door to my room wide and looked at the bookshelves that filled one wall. I casually asked, "Do you want to take a look?" Izumi said, "Is it okay?" Izumi said.

I nodded, and Izumi put the vacuum cleaner down in the hallway and walked into my room, saying in a low voice, "Excuse me...". The room was tidy enough that I was not embarrassed to be seen, but the blanket on the bed was crumpled, and that was the only thing that bothered me a little. Come to think of it, this is the first time Izumi has entered my room. Suddenly I became aware of it and left the door open. Somehow, it seemed easier than being alone in a closed room.

Izumi stood in front of the bookshelf and looked at the books lined up in a row.

"It's a huge amount of books."

"Yeah. Most of them were taken by my brother. But there were still many of them, so I kept them in this room. Some of them were precious books.

I said as I pulled out one of Michel Foucault's books, which was placed within easy reach. When I flipped it open, I couldn't tell whether it belonged to my father or my brother, but there were Japanese characters and notes scribbled in a messy script.

"Whose book is that?"

Izumi asked with a puzzled look on her face.

"A philosopher from the past."

"Kenichi-kun, do you often read such books?"

"I don't read such serious books very often. I like reading, so I sometimes read simple books, just the parts I'm interested in. Most of the specialized books are just for interior decoration," I answered as I put the book back.

"Hee," Izumi said.

"But, as expected of a lecturer's son."

"Why?"

"Because I don't think ordinary high school students are interested in that kind of thing."

"...I don't like to think I'm influenced by him."

I said that because I didn't want to think that I was living the same kind of life as my brother and father, who were very talented. I don't think I could live the same way as them and be like them. Thinking about it that way, I felt like I was a degraded copy of them, and it made me feel bad.

"I think you've been influenced by him to the fullest."

But, strangely Izumi said that.

"......Is that so?"

She nodded in a terribly honest tone, "Yes," and I let out a sigh.

Izumi then left my room and began vacuuming the upstairs hallway again. I followed her out of my room and down into the living room.