There was uproar in the morning. Her brother burned the breakfast, and she left, slamming the door so hard she heard the framed photo of her grandmother fall off the wall.
None of the girls really understood, and she hadn’t tried to share the news. She just went to school, huddled with them outside afterwards in the shopping center, smoking, talking about boys and music, fucking their science teacher.
It was dark, and she went home to the quiet house. The funeral card was on the table and she found her brother on his knees in their parents’ empty bedroom.

Image: Sukeban girls, 1981. Photographer unknown