Final Episode: “So, she really was my stepsister. And the conclusion I reached is…”

I stepped into Akira’s room for the first time.

The furniture Dad and I had lugged in still stood in its familiar places, but now it was adorned with girly knickknacks and stuffed animals scattered about. I’d pictured a chaotic mess—clothes strewn carelessly, manga stacked haphazardly on the desk. Yet, the reality was far different: tidy, unmistakably a girl’s room, radiating a natural charm. A sweet, calming scent lingered in the air, the same faint fragrance that sometimes drifted from Akira herself.

Ironically, the truth had been right next door all along. If I’d peeked into her room sooner, I might not have mistaken her for a guy… maybe.

“I know it’s a bit late, but I’m kinda freaking out…”

“Whaaat? You just got in here!”

“No, I mean… you’re really a girl, huh?”

“…What did you think I was this whole time?”

Her exasperated “ugh” cut through the air as she slipped into bed, lifting the edge of the blanket slightly. “Aniki, come on already…”

My heart had been pounding like a drum since I stepped inside. “Pardon the intrusion…”

“It’s not an intrusion… wait, that’s your line, right?”

“I was kinda hoping you’d say, ‘If it’s an intrusion, get out!’ or something…”

A single bed was far too small for two. Even the slightest shift made our shoulders brush, sending a jolt through me.

“Oh, turn off the light, it’s embarrassing…”

“…I was gonna turn it off anyway. I’m a pitch-black sleeper, so don’t step on me if you get up to use the bathroom, okay?”

I flicked off the light, plunging the room into darkness. As my eyes adjusted, the faint glow from the stereo cast a soft illumination across the space.

“So, what’s with wanting to sleep together all of a sudden?” I asked.

“Honestly? I thought it’d be easier to talk in bed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know, like how people spill their hearts out on school trips or at pajama parties?”

“Gotcha… yeah, I kinda get it.”

“Plus, being an only child, I never had siblings, right? I’ve always kinda dreamed of something like this.”

“Yeah, I get that too. Wondering what it’s like to sleep in the same room as a sibling.”

“That’s part of it. I just wanted to sleep with you, Aniki.”

I wanted to say “same,” but that was only if we were talking about a brother.

“Hey, can I borrow your arm for a sec?”

“Huh? Sure…”

Akira grabbed my arm, pulling it close and hugging it to her body. “Aniki, does this make your heart race?”

“…Yeah.”

“Heh, really? Your heart’s racing?”

“Yeah, so let go already.”

“Nope. Not yet.”

“You’re gonna let go eventually, right?”

“Who knows~?”

“Aren’t you embarrassed? I mean… my arm’s kinda… touching stuff…”

“Well, maybe a little… but I’m okay for now.”

“Why?”

“’Cause you’re Aniki.”

Meanwhile, I was barely holding it together, clinging to sanity amidst her teasing. “By the way, we’ve basically done everything couples do, haven’t we?”

“Huh…?”

“Hugs, kisses, taking a bath together, and now sleeping together…”

“Hey, don’t say stuff that could be misunderstood!” I protested. “I didn’t initiate any hugs, the kiss wasn’t on the lips and it was you who did it, and the bath… that was, like, an almost-incident. Sleeping together now is true, but…”

I couldn’t let myself imagine what came next. My reason was still holding out over instinct, but one slip, and I might lose it all.

“Wanna go through it all again, step by step?”

“Idiot.”

“Okay, jokes aside, back to my earlier question.”

“Earlier?”

“About me having someone I like.”

“Oh… yeah…” My heart suddenly felt like it was being squeezed.

“What if I said I liked you, Aniki?”

“That’s…”

Honestly, that’d be a problem. That was the one line we absolutely couldn’t cross. As I agonized over it, Akira burst out laughing. “Hahaha! You’re too funny, Aniki!”

A compliment? No, that felt more like a jab.

“Well, I do like you, Aniki.”

“That ‘well’ pretty much gives it away. You don’t need to say any more, okay?”

Not love, but like. Not as a guy, but as Aniki, as family.

“Of course, as a guy.”

“Ugh… Akira, that’s…”

My expectations shattered, my heart pounded even harder. It hadn’t stopped racing, but now it was relentless.

“But I don’t want to make things hard for you, Aniki.”

“No, you’re already making this extremely hard by being so blunt…”

“Hahaha, sorry!”

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

She could be so mean sometimes, downright cruel when it came to messing with me.

“You really value family, don’t you, Aniki?”

“Y-Yeah, I guess…”

“So, for now, I’m your stepsister. But someday, I’ll be your wife.”

Her sudden proposal caught me off guard, like a bolt from a clear sky.

“Akira, are you dying or something?” I blurted out.

“Huh? Why?”

“That’s totally a death flag, isn’t it? Like getting into an accident, a terminal illness, or amnesia before the wedding?”

“I don’t think amnesia counts as dying… but whatever.” Akira let out a soft chuckle, her voice light but tinged with amusement.

“No, I’m serious. I really mean it.”

“…For real?”

“For real. You’re the only one for me, Aniki. If you don’t take me, I might be alone forever.”

“No way, that’s not true. You’re… you know, pretty, and unlike me, you’d have tons of people falling for you…”

“No, I think it’s only you, Aniki. You’re the only one who really knows the real me at home.”

“Yeah, I guess…”

I thought of the Akira I knew—calling herself “boku,” scarfing down snacks, chugging juice, lazing around with games or manga, flopping onto the floor and passing out with her stomach exposed. A sister as far from ladylike as you could get.

“Do you think any guy would fall for the me you see at home?” she asked, her voice teasing but curious.

“The world’s a big place…”

“That kinda stings, you know.”

Akira laughed, but honestly, I thought that version of her was pretty great too. “Everyone else just sees the surface-level me. My looks, stuff like that…”

“Sure, that’s important, but I don’t think your personality’s bad either, you know…”

“You’re the only one who thinks that, Aniki.”

“…Well, there’s probably someone out there in the world who thinks like me. Maybe.”

“Why’s it gotta be on a global scale? Can’t you at least keep it to Japan?” Akira chuckled again, her laughter soft and warm.

I knew both the at-home Akira and the outside Akira. I might not know everything about her yet, but I understood her better than most guys would. And my feelings for her? I didn’t think I’d lose to anyone.

“But you’re holding back because we’re family, right?”

“Huh?”

“So even if I confessed, you probably wouldn’t be able to give me an answer right away, would you?”

“…Wait, did you confess because you knew I’d put off answering?”

“Yup.”

What a sly girl, stirring up my heart like that.

“Why would you do that when you already knew…?”

“’Cause if I don’t stake my claim, someone else might snatch you up.”

“No way. I’m not that popular. Saying it myself makes me kinda sad, but…”

“No, I bet you’ll keep making ridiculous misunderstandings and cause someone else to misunderstand too. And that girl will probably fall for you, Aniki.”

“Ugh…”

“You’re the worst, Aniki. You make people misunderstand, don’t even notice, and then act like you’d never be the type to be misunderstood, refusing to accept people’s feelings.”

“That’s…”

“I’m the perfect example, right? After everything you’ve done, how could I not fall for you…?”

“W-Well, that’s, uh…”

That’s right. Akira’s feelings for me started because I mistook her for a guy. All my clueless actions—she took them as signs of affection. And as a result, she fell for me. …No, I made her fall for me.

I misunderstood, and I caused her to misunderstand, but it had gone beyond just a misunderstanding now. Because Akira said she’d fallen for me. In the truest sense, I might’ve done something irreversible.

“But if you hadn’t mistaken me for a guy, the me who loves you so much wouldn’t exist right now,” she said softly.

“Huh…?”

“So I’m really glad you misunderstood, Aniki.”

“Akira…”

“Even setting aside romantic feelings, I got to become close family with you. So I’m happy.” As she spoke, Akira hugged my arm even tighter, her warmth seeping into me.

“Aren’t you embarrassed saying that stuff? …Wait, that’s your line, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a little? —You don’t like it? …What’s your next line, Aniki?”

Like we were reenacting the words we exchanged the day we first truly talked, we continued.

“…It’s tough, but—” I hesitated, weighing my words, “—you don’t have to call me ‘you.’”

I said it.

“Then what should I call you?”

“…Just keep calling me Aniki.”

After a brief silence, our eyes met, and we burst out laughing together.

“Hahaha! What’s that supposed to mean?! That’s where you say, ‘Just call me Ryouta!’”

“Aniki’s Aniki, right? Don’t think you can just start calling me by my name!”

We laughed until our sides ached, then shook hands under the covers. Akira’s hand was, as always, smooth and soft, delicate like glasswork that might break if I squeezed too hard. But unlike before, it carried a faint warmth.

Feeling a bit shy, we instinctively pulled our hands back, our gazes locking.

“Hey, Aniki… did my feelings get through to you?”

“Yeah…”

“Then, tell me about you next.”

“About me?”

“You said Mendel’s laws don’t carry blood—what did you really mean by that?”

“…You remembered that?”

“Yeah. It stuck with me. Not just the words, but the look in your eyes back then. They were so sad, or maybe angry, or in pain—it was such a strange look.”

“I see…”

She noticed. But it seemed she hadn’t quite grasped the full meaning.

…Guess I should tell her. Since Akira opened up to me this much, she had a right to know.

“…I’ve never even told Dad. The only ones who know are me and Kousei.”

“Huh…?”

“But Dad probably knows too. He’s probably pretending he doesn’t, for my sake. Or maybe he wants to believe it doesn’t matter. Dad’s always the one who gets the short end of the stick.”

“Short end of the stick…?”

I hesitated to put it into words. The moment I tried, ugly emotions surged up, threatening to spill over. But at the same time, I wanted someone to hear it. Like it was overflowing from deep inside, the words slipped out.

“—I’m probably not related to Dad by blood.”

“What…?”

“It started in middle school, during science class. That day, we were learning about Mendel’s laws. I usually thought science was boring, but that day was different—”

Staring at the dim ceiling, I slowly began to tell my story.

＊　＊　＊

They say people with trauma often shy away from history, as if the past’s weight could crush them. Yet, despite the sting of my mom’s abandonment, I found solace in history class, its stories a quiet refuge.

If you asked me what subject I hated, I’d point to science without hesitation. Science is unrelenting—its observations, experiments, and analysis coldly drag facts into the open, leaving no space for emotions to linger.

That day, too, I was slouched in science class, boredom weighing heavy as always.

But something snagged my attention.

It was about blood types.

I’d always thought it was just A, B, O, or AB—simple as that. But the lesson dove deeper: AO, BO, OO, AB, and how a child’s blood type hinges on the combination of their parents’.

As the teacher’s words sank in, my face drained of color.

“Sensei, I have a question,” I said, my voice cutting through the haze.

“Hm? Majima, you raising your hand? That’s rare. What’s up?”

“Can a child with O-type blood be born to AB-type parents?”

“Hmm… I’d say it’s extremely unlikely. There are exceptions, but the odds are practically zero.”

“…How unlikely?”

“I can’t say exactly.”

“So, extremely unlikely?”

“Yeah, pretty rare.”

In that moment, an old memory surged back, sharp and unbidden—

‘He said he didn’t want a kid… so—’

‘Ryouta’s my son. Of course I’m taking him!’

‘But Ryouta—’

‘Enough! If you want to leave, go! And don’t ever come near Ryouta again! I’ll raise him! …—’

That heated exchange between Dad and the woman who was once my mom echoed in my mind. She’d started to say, ‘But Ryouta—’ What was she going to say next? The words had been cut off, left hanging in the air.

The fact I knew: Dad was AB-type. And me? I was type O.

If this were an experiment, the results, the analysis… they pointed to something I couldn’t unsee.

“Hey, you don’t need to memorize the exceptions for the test, so don’t worry about it!”

The teacher’s voice rang out, dismissing the class’s concerns with a casual wave. But those words couldn’t erase what I’d pieced together. The truth clung to me, unshakeable.

This is why I hate science.

They say there are exceptions, but they don’t give you any hope to hold onto.

＊    ＊　＊

“—So, it turns out there’s a pretty high chance I’m not blood-related to Dad. Not zero, apparently, but…” I said with a forced smile, but Akira was at a loss for words. I went on with my “analysis” anyway.

“…I’m probably the kid of the woman I thought was my mom and her affair partner.”

“No way…”

“And that guy she had an affair with didn’t want me. The woman I thought was my mom went along with him, and in the end, Dad was the one left holding the short end of the stick…”

As I laid out the cold facts, a bitter ache tightened in my throat and chest. It wasn’t hatred or anger clawing at me.

It was frustration.

Frustrated that I wasn’t tied to Dad by blood, yet bound by it to the people who cast me aside…

The irony that Mendel’s laws say blood doesn’t connect us—

The defiance that blood ties are meaningless—

The ideal that whether blood flows between us matters—

In the end, I’m the one clinging to the idea of blood ties more than anyone. My birth parents likely knew we were related by blood but still chose not to take me in. My adoptive parent raised me as his own, fully aware we shared no blood.

…Why did Dad decide to take me in?

Even though I’m not his real child, even though I’m the son of someone he had every reason to resent, when he could’ve just walked away…

It’s clear who I should call my parent. To me, my only parent is Majima Taichi—my Dad, and no one else.

“Aniki…”

“Hm?”

“You’re misunderstanding… You’re always getting things wrong…”

“Misunderstanding? Getting things wrong? Like what—?”

“You’re not some short straw!”

Akira’s voice rose sharply, catching me off guard.

“Akira…”

“You’re kind, and wonderful, and cool, and yeah, you say or do weird stuff sometimes, but I love every single bit of you, Aniki, I love you so much… And I think the man who raised you is a good person too! You’re a real family! If you weren’t, I don’t think I’d love you this much!”

Tears streamed down Akira’s face, glistening in the dim light as she scolded me.

“…Why are you the one crying?”

“B-Because… you’re not crying, Aniki…”

“I used to cry a lot back in the day, you know…”

“Then cry now! Ugh, why am I the one… sobs…”

I gently placed my hand on Akira’s head. As I stroked her hair, her sobs broke free, raw and childlike. How long did we stay like that? Then, Akira spoke again, her voice soft but steady.

“I get why you were so hung up on family, Aniki…”

“You do, huh?”

“You were longing for it, weren’t you?”

“…Yeah. I wanted to believe we could be a real family, even without blood ties.”

“You already are. So don’t worry.”

“…Got it. Then I’m not worried.”

“But we’re not quite there yet…”

“Huh? After we’ve gotten this close? Wait, didn’t you just say we’re like a tight-knit family…?”

“It’s still not enough.”

“Not enough, you say—?”

“So let’s get married! Let’s be family, you and me! I’ll cherish you and our baby forever, Aniki!”

Akira clung to my arm, her grip unyielding.

Her lips curved into a smile, but her eyes burned with unwavering resolve. There was no mistaking her intent.

I shut my eyes, drawing a slow, deep breath, before meeting her gaze again—her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“You’re insatiable, saying it’s still not enough.”

A sigh escaped me, but a faint smile tugged at my lips as I reached out, ruffling Akira’s hair gently.

“Are you scared?”

“Scared’s not the word. It’s more like… how do I even begin to explain this to Dad and Miyuki-san?”

“Pfft. Just make it a done deal, and the rest will sort itself out.”

“Hey, are you trying to trap me or something?”

“Do you hate me, Aniki?”

“I don’t hate you, okay? That’s why this is so complicated.”

“Then say it clearly. Say you like me.”

“That’s—”

The word caught in my throat. Not the familiar “like” I’d always felt, seeing her as my little sister, but something deeper, something romantic. Admitting it now felt like it would unravel something precious. I couldn’t pin down what that something was, but confessing without understanding it felt incomplete—like I’d be sidestepping the truth, cheating Akira’s earnest heart.

So I answered, voice low, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know…” she echoed, her expression faltering.

“I think… I want to stay as your Aniki.”

“Got it. I won’t push you anymore. But…” She paused, then nodded slowly. Akira’s face drew closer, her breath warm and hesitant.

I wanted to pull away, but her grip on my arm held me fast.

“So, what happens next…?”

“W-What happens…?”

“Should we make it a done deal…?” she teased, her mischievous look betraying the flush of embarrassment she tried to hide. Despite her fear, she pressed forward.

“You sure about this, Akira? No regrets?”

“…Yeah, no regrets. Because it’s you, Aniki…”

Akira tugged my arm closer, her body pressed against mine. In that moment, we both understood what came next—an unspoken agreement, woven with intent and consent.

And what lay beyond, we both knew all too well.

＊    ＊　＊

Before I realized it, the darkness beyond the window had softened, giving way to the faint chirping of sparrows.

In the end, we didn’t sleep a wink after that.

I glanced at Akira, asleep beside me, her soft breaths as gentle as a child’s. My hand moved to her head, fingers gliding through her hair. Her face seemed to ease, a faint smile tugging at her lips as if the touch felt comforting.

In the dim morning light, Akira’s features glowed with an almost ethereal warmth.

“Akira… Actually, I…” The words slipped out, a quiet confession whispered into her ear, unable to be contained. But she remained lost in her dreams, her face twitching slightly, as if tickled by my breath.

Good. She hadn’t heard me.

Her fingers clutched the sleeve of my T-shirt, holding on even in sleep. What kind of dream was she seeing now?

I scratched my head, a faint flush creeping up my neck, then closed my eyes, my gaze lingering on her peaceful, sleeping face beside me.

—And, well, in the end.

“I’m late, late, late—!”

…That’s how it went.

Akira and I overslept and rushed out of the house in a panic.

＊    ＊　＊

We barely made it to school in time, parting ways at the entrance to rush to our classrooms.

The bell rang just as I stumbled into the room. Akira probably made it too.

“Y-Yo…”

Maybe because I was out of breath from running, my usual grumpy-faced friend looked at me, surprised.

“Haa… haa… haa… I’m gonna puke…”

“Then go to the bathroom,” he shot back, deadpan.

I wanted to take Kousei’s advice, but I swallowed hard and collapsed into my seat instead.

“It’s rare for you to cut it this close…”

“Y-Yeah, well…”

“Hmm… You look pale. What’s up?”

“Sleep deprivation…”

“What were you doing to get that sleep-deprived?”

“…Not telling,” I muttered, turning away.

“Whatever, fine.”

The homeroom teacher walked in, cutting our conversation short. Kousei didn’t pry further after that. I was quietly grateful for his usual indifference.

＊    ＊　＊

During the lunch break that day, after I’d finished eating, Hinata appeared in my classroom as she often did.

“Ryouta-senpai, got a moment?”

“What’s up today?”

“Um, well…” Hinata’s ponytail swayed gently as she fidgeted, her hands twisting nervously.

“Hm?”

“Actually, uh…” Her words faltered, and she seemed unusually tense, her movements restless.

“What’s wrong…?” I asked, growing a little anxious myself as her unease rubbed off on me.

Hinata kept stammering, “Uh, well, you see,” her face flushing red with nerves. The awkward silence stretched on until—

“…So annoying,” Kousei snapped, cutting through the tension.

“Hey, Hinata! If you’ve got something to say, just spit it out!” he snapped, his tone impatient.

“Hold on, Onii-chan! This has nothing to do with you!”

“Coming to the second-year classroom every single day—what do you even want!?”

“I’m about to say it, so read the room already!”

Just like that, a sibling spat erupted right in front of me. I glanced around, noticing the curious stares from our classmates, drawn to the rare spectacle of the good-looking brother and sister bickering.

“Okay, okay, both of you, calm down…”

“Whose fault is this!” they both shouted in unison, turning on me.

“Eh!? My fault!?”

I really had no clue why. At this point, I wondered if I should be the one getting mad, but Kousei fixed me with a sharp glare.

“…Ryouta, you forgot again, didn’t you?”

“Huh? Forgot what?” I asked, genuinely lost.

“Lunch, man, lunch! When are you gonna treat me!?”

“…Oh!” It hit me like a bolt.

Right, I’d completely forgotten. Amid all the chaos, I hadn’t yet repaid Kousei for helping clean Akira’s room.

“Hinata’s been bugging me every day, asking when you’re gonna invite her! Do something about it!”

“It’s not every day! Just sometimes, okay, sometimes!”

“That’s what I’m saying is annoying! And don’t ask me, go straight to him!”

“So that’s why I came here today! Geez, Onii-chan, stay out of it!”

Okay, so this was my fault. Hinata had been coming up with excuses to talk to me, probably too shy to directly mention the promised lunch. She’d been waiting for me to remember on my own.

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right…”

“No, it’s not like you have to! It’s fine if you don’t!”

“Nope, we’re settling this now! Right now!”

“I said it’s not your business, Onii-chan!”

“Watching you two makes me so mad I can’t stand it!”

“Kousei, let’s calm down… And Hinata-chan, you too, take it easy…”

“Whose fault is this!” “Whose fault is it!” they shouted again, perfectly in sync.

“…It’s my fault. I’m sorry…” I sighed, shoulders slumping. Deep down, I could tell these two probably got along great, despite their constant sibling bickering.

＊    ＊　＊

After school, I changed out of my uniform and took Kousei, Hinata, and Akira to a family restaurant a short distance from school. It was my way of making amends, especially to lift the spirits of the Ueda siblings after everything that had happened.

We settled in, ordering our favorite dishes, and soon the table was crowded with plates of food. Laughter and lighthearted chatter filled the air as we ate and sipped our drinks. The Ueda siblings’ moods visibly brightened, their smiles returning with each passing moment.

Akira, though, was a bit more reserved. She was warmer with them than before, offering polite smiles and mostly listening, but she wasn’t quite as relaxed as she was at home. Still, I held onto the hope that she’d gradually open up to others, little by little, in moments like these.

“Ryouta, I’ll take a drink.”

“Cool. What do you want?”

“Up to you.”

“You won’t regret that choice?”

“…Cola.”

I grabbed a cup for Kousei and headed to the drink bar, only for Hinata to trail after me.

“Sorry, Ryouta-senpai, this is kinda sudden…”

“Nah, it’s my fault for completely forgetting…”

“By the way, Ryouta-senpai.”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“You seem… different somehow.”

“Huh? D-Do I?”

“Like, more mature or something… Like you’ve got this calm confidence.”

“Do I? I don’t really feel that way…”

“And Akira-chan seems even prettier than before, so I was wondering if something happened at home…”

Hinata’s perceptiveness caught me off guard. As expected of Ueda Hinata—sharp as ever.

“Nothing really? If anything, maybe Akira and I got a bit closer…”

“Huh!? You mean like…?”

“No, no, probably not what you’re thinking. Just that we opened up to each other, you know? Step-siblings, talking about all sorts of stuff.”

“Oh… I see…” Hinata let out a relieved sigh, then flashed a slightly coy smile.

“Um, Senpai…”

“Hm?”

“I was thinking, maybe we could grab food together again sometime.”

“Sure, anytime. Kousei might grumble, but I bet Akira would be happy too.”

“N-No, that’s not what I meant…” Hinata’s face flushed bright red.

“Huh?”

“I mean, just the two of us, how about it!?”

“Eh!?”

My face burned as her words sank in, leaving me speechless.

＊    ＊　＊

At Yūki Academy Station, we said our goodbyes to the Ueda siblings, and Akira and I set off for home together.

We passed through the ticket gate at Arisu South Station, walking side by side beneath a star-strewn sky, the soft glow of streetlights and moonlight guiding our steps. The night air felt crisp, a quiet backdrop to our familiar rhythm.

Suddenly, a sharp pinch stung the back of my left hand. Akira, strolling beside me, was unmistakably the culprit.

“Akira, that hurts…”

“That’s your punishment for making googly eyes at Hinata-chan,” she teased, her tone light but pointed.

“What was I supposed to do? She invited me to dinner…”

Apparently, she’d caught the whole scene from a distance, and I’d already endured her interrogation on the train.

“What, are you jealous or something?”

“…Jealous? If you started dating Hinata-chan, Aniki, you’d probably stop paying attention to me, wouldn’t you?”

“No way, I’d still make time for you. Promise.”

Akira’s face broke into a grin, her usual “at-home mode” kicking in, relaxed and unguarded. “But you’re still going to that dinner, right?”

“Hmm, who knows?”

“…Go ahead then. I’ll allow it, but only for dinner!”

“What’s this? Acting like my girlfriend when you’re not even my girlfriend?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Pfft, no. I’m just showing off how big-hearted your future wife can be.”

“If I married you, I’d probably end up completely under your thumb…”

“Oh, I’d flatten you so hard you’d be a pancake.”

Our playful banter bounced back and forth, the kind of easy exchange we’d perfected over time. But then, Akira’s expression shifted, her face turning serious as she slowed her pace.

“Last night…”

“Oh, uh…” My face flushed, the memory hitting me like a sudden gust, vivid and overwhelming.

(Aniki, you really held it together, huh?)

“Yeah, I was singing my own praises afterward…”

That’s right. In the end, nothing happened between us.

If we’d just gone with the flow, we’d probably have regretted it later. So I convinced Akira to keep things as they were, and we simply slept side by side.

Still, now that I think about it, just sleeping together for an entire night might already count as some kind of “fact,” right? I’m still not entirely sure about that one.

“You worked so hard, didn’t you~?”

“All I can say is I’m really, really sorry… And please, let me sleep properly tonight…”

“Fine, I’ll hold off on sneaking into your bed tonight.”

“No, please stop that starting tomorrow too…”

If she keeps saying things like that, I won’t be able to sleep from tomorrow onward either. But anyway.

“Akira, are you really okay with this? Us just… staying like this?”

“Yeah, I’ve already told you how I feel, so now it’s up to you, Aniki, right?”

We’d thought about each other, about the people around us, and decided to stay not as lovers or spouses but as close siblings, just like before. Even so, I’d been wondering all day if Akira was truly okay with that.

“It feels kinda weird not having things clearly defined,” she continued, her tone thoughtful. “But in the end, I think you’ll come back to me… Or maybe that’s just my wishful thinking?”

“Saying stuff like that, aren’t you worried people will think you’re just some convenient girl?”

“If I’m convenient for you, Aniki, I don’t mind.”

“That hits hard, but it’s not quite enough… Also, don’t ever say that to anyone else, okay? It sounds way too bad.”

Then, as if a sudden thought struck her, Akira flashed a cheeky grin.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, Aniki, am I your little brother? Or your little sister? I want you to remember I’m your sister sometimes, you know.”

“Remember? I’ve always thought of you as my sister.”

“Really? You’re actually seeing me as a girl?”

“Of course—”

And yet, deep down, Akira’s still kinda like a little brother to me. My stepsister, so carefree around me, so close like a brother would be… Sometimes I don’t know how to handle her, but reading manga together, playing games, talking about all sorts of things… Being with her is fun, and it fills my heart.

I decided I wouldn’t look at Akira through any lens like “if she were my brother” or “because she’s my sister.”

Akira is Akira.

My one and only, brother-like, precious stepsister.

It’s a strange way to phrase it, but I want to cherish this bond with Akira from now on.

“Brother or sister, doesn’t matter. I’m gonna keep looking out for you, Akira. If anything’s up, you can always count on your Aniki, okay?”

“That phrasing’s kinda weird… But fine, whatever. For now, I’m happy with what you said this morning, so I’ll leave it at that.”

“This morning? On the train? Did I say something…?”

I racked my brain, but nothing specific came to mind.

(In my ear, you said, ‘Actually, I…’)

“…What?”

My face drained of color.

“Saying that while I was asleep? That’s not fair,” Akira teased, her smirk widening. “You gotta say stuff like that when I’m awake.”

“W-Wait, Akira, you mean…?”

No way. She was supposed to be asleep. Asleep, but she heard…

So that means—

“Yup. I was pretending to sleep.”

“Wha—!?”

“To be exact, I woke up when you patted my head. Then your face got super close, and you said, ‘Actually…’” She leaned in, her grin unrelenting. “So, Aniki, can you say it again?”

“—!?”

“I was totally freaking out inside, wanting to scream kyaa!… Wait, Aniki, what’s wrong? Don’t just walk off! Don’t leave me behind, Aniki—!”

I’m such an idiot.

Why am I adding to my own embarrassing history? I got caught up in the moment, wanting to act out some cheesy movie or drama scene.

…No, no way. Nope, nope.

Even if I was running on no sleep, that was too much. Sure, it came from the heart, but still, I wish she’d told me she was awake.

And to think she heard everything…

“Hey, Aniki! If you’re embarrassed, I can say it all for you—! Back then, you—”

“No way! Forget it—!”

Anyway, Akira.

You’re not my stepbrother.

You’re my stepsister.

A girl.

Way too cute.

And, honestly, such a handful…