Chapter 3 | Going to School with My Stepsister

Monday. Mahito and Yuuri left the house together.

“Onii-san, I’m happy we can leave together, but you don’t have to force yourself to match my schedule, you know?”

Feeling a bit apologetic, Yuuri said this, and Mahito tilted his head.

“Match your schedule? We’re headed to the same place, aren’t we?”

“Eh?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise.

—Well, if she doesn’t remember me, it makes sense she wouldn’t remember this either.

Mahito tugged at the collar of his uniform to show her.

“This is the same Kuwa High uniform as yours, Yuuri.”

Municipal Kuwa Capital High School. That was the name of the high school Mahito attended.

Kuwa City was a relatively large city within the metropolitan area, but aside from its unusual number of horror spots, it had no particular distinguishing features. Its elementary, middle, and high schools were all of average academic standing. Among them, Kuwa High was considered one of the better schools in the city, located two stations away from their home.

The girls’ uniform for Kuwa High was what Yuuri was wearing right now.

Pointing to the school emblem on his chest pocket, Mahito seemed to finally get through to her. Yuuri let out a startled yelp.

“Onii-san, you’re at the same high school?!”

“You don’t have to act that shocked about it.”

That said, Mahito had reacted the same way when he first heard about Yuuri’s choice of school.

—Since she was avoiding me so much, I never imagined she’d end up at the same school.

Still, attending the same high school didn’t necessarily mean they’d run into each other often. Maybe that’s why Yuuri hadn’t thought much of it either.

Mahito gave a wry smile.

“It’s a school with a decently high academic standard, you know. When I got in, everyone around me had the same reaction.”

Back then, Mahito’s grades made it a bit of a stretch to aim for Kuwa High, but he lucked out with his exam prep and managed to pass. As a result, his first year was a desperate struggle just to keep up with classes.

Yuuri hurriedly shook her head. Her silver hair sparkled in the morning sunlight.

“N-no, that’s not what I meant! I just had this image that high school would split everyone up, so I assumed you and I would be at different schools…”

“Yeah, I get that. Most of my middle school friends ended up scattered at different schools too.”

Mahito wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. Making friends in a new environment was, frankly, a bit of a chore.

“Onii-san, why did you choose Kuwa High?”

“Because it was close to home, I guess? Also, it was a bit of a reach for me, but I took the entrance exam on a whim and somehow passed.”

“Wow, that’s amazing, Onii-san!”

Mahito gave another wry smile.

“You’re saying that even though you got into the same school? Honestly, Yuuri, you could’ve aimed for an even better school, couldn’t you? Why did you pick Kuwa High?”

“Eh?”

Yuuri blinked, looking as if she’d never even considered the question.

Then, she tilted her head, clearly puzzled.

“Why was it again…? There was some reason I had to go there, but…”

Her words sparked a sense of unease in Mahito.

—Could it be that she’s forgotten more than just me?

Forgetting her family was such a massive issue that she might not have noticed other gaps in her memory.

As he hesitated over whether to point this out, Yuuri gave a soft smile.

“But I’m glad I’m at the same school as you, Onii-san.”

“R-really?”

Caught off guard by her reaction, Mahito fumbled his words.

Then, as if realizing something important, he raised his voice.

“Ah!”

“W-what’s wrong?”

Yuuri looked up at him with a serious expression.

“Um, when we see each other at school, what should I call you? Is it okay to keep calling you Onii-san?”

“Oh, right, good point.”

Mahito didn’t mind, but Yuuri might feel awkward calling him “Onii-san” at their age, especially in a high school setting.

He doubted anyone would tease her for being overly attached to her brother, but since he didn’t have friends with younger siblings, he wasn’t sure what was normal.

Yuuri asked the obvious follow-up question.

“What did I call you back in middle school?”

“Uh, um, I think it was… ‘Onii-chan’?”

Mahito lied.

By the time they were in middle school, their conversations had dwindled to almost nothing, so she’d never called him anything at school.

Realizing he’d slipped up again, Mahito mumbled an excuse.

“W-Well, since we’re in different grades, we probably won’t run into each other much anyway…”

“That’s true.”

Yuuri nodded, accepting his words without hesitation.

As they walked, she opened her mouth, a troubled look crossing her face.

“Onii-san… Onii-chan… Hmm, neither feels quite right…”

She was clearly struggling to settle on what to call him.

“Well, if neither feels right, how about calling me Senpai or something?”

“…! That’s it! ‘Senpai’ sounds perfect!”

Clapping her hands, Yuuri stepped in front of Mahito, her schoolbag swinging behind her hips as she leaned forward, peering up at his face. Her short skirt flared out like a blooming flower, revealing a glimpse of her thighs above her knees. Her silver hair fanned out, catching the morning light, while cherry blossom petals swirled gently in the breeze behind her.

The almost fantastical scene made Mahito’s heart skip a beat.

Catching his breath, he met Yuuri’s faint smile as she said, “Nice to meet you, Mahito-senpai!”

His face flushed, and Mahito instinctively tilted his head toward the sky.

—That’s just unfair.

Being called “Senpai” by a younger girl was a critical hit, capable of charming anyone. It didn’t matter that she was his stepsister—technically. The flutter in his chest felt only natural.

Clearing his throat to mask his flustered state, he managed, “N-Nice to meet you too, Yuuri-kouhai.”

“Being called ‘kouhai’ just because I’m your junior feels a bit off.”

“Yeah, I kinda feel that too.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

Despite her words, Yuuri’s grin was bright and cheerful.

Seeing his stepsister in such high spirits, Mahito felt a quiet sense of relief.

—Good. She doesn’t seem nervous at all.

He wasn’t sure about her icy demeanor in recent years, but when Yuuri was younger, she’d been painfully shy, struggling to open up to strangers. He’d worried that starting high school a week late might make her anxious, but it seemed his concerns were unfounded.

“Alright, let’s pick up the pace. We’ll miss the train if we don’t hurry.”

“Ah! Oh no, I got so caught up chatting with you, Onii-san…”

Hearing such words from Yuuri caught Mahito off guard, and he instinctively pressed the corner of his eyes.

Then, as if catching her mistake, she covered her mouth and corrected herself. “Not Onii-san—Mahito-senpai, right?”

“Y-Yeah, that’s right!”

It seemed his stepsister had already mastered the art of teasing her stepbrother.

Looking away, Mahito barely managed a response and quickened his pace toward the station.

They still had a few minutes to spare, but the morning trains at this hour were a nightmare. Without some buffer time, they risked getting stuck on the platform, unable to board.

As he sped up, Yuuri lagged behind, struggling to keep pace.

Glancing back, he saw her face flushed bright red.

“Sorry, was I walking too fast?”

He’d forgotten, given how lively she seemed, that Yuuri was still recovering from an illness. He might’ve pushed her too hard.

Yuuri quickly shook her head. “N-No, that’s not it. It’s just… calling you Senpai and walking side by side like this made my heart race…”

She’d let slip some rather alarming thoughts.

Her eyes widened, as if realizing what she’d said. “Wait, no! Forget I said that!”

But it was too late—she’d already blurted it out.

—Is this girl gonna be okay…?

Feeling a pang of worry, Mahito wisely pretended not to hear.

“As long as you’re not feeling sick, that’s good.”

“I’m fine! I’ve rested plenty.”

“Not nervous either?”

“Not nerv—nervous?”

Mahito’s offhand comment made Yuuri’s face stiffen again.

“…Now that you mention it, I’m starting to feel nervous. What if there’s no place for me, starting a week late like this?”

“I-It’ll be fine! A week isn’t long enough for friend groups to solidify… probably.”

His lack of confidence frustrated him, and his words did little to ease Yuuri’s fears. Her face grew paler as she covered it with her hands.

“They won’t make me do a self-introduction all by myself, right?”

“You’re not a transfer student…”

“But isn’t it the same thing? Being the only stranger in a class where everyone already knows each other?”

“Well… uh, just do your best.”

“Pien.”

A strange, unfamiliar whimper escaped her. It might’ve been an attempt at a joke or bravado, but her teary, genuinely distressed face was far beyond a simple “pien.”

—What do I do? I made her anxious by saying something careless…

Once they got to school, Mahito, being in a different grade, wouldn’t be able to do much for her. What could he do for his stepsister right now?

After a moment of thought, Mahito spoke with a serious expression. “Yuuri, that uniform looks great on you.”

Unlike her middle school sailor uniform, the pale beige blazer was a fresh change, complementing her silver hair beautifully. Mahito had seen the uniform countless times during his first year, but on Yuuri, it suddenly seemed like a refined, elegant design.

Yuuri nearly tripped, jumping in surprise. “Wha—?! W-W-W-What’s that all of a sudden?!”

“I just thought thinking about something else might help you relax.”

Yuuri covered her flushed cheeks with her silver hair, as if trying to hide. “W-Well, it definitely blew away my nerves… and a bunch of other things too…”

“Then that’s good.”

But then she puffed out her cheeks and glared at him. “Onii-san, do you say stuff like that to just anyone?”

“Who else would I say that to besides you?”

“Hyyuii?!”

If Mahito had anyone else to say such things to, he’d love to meet them. In reality, he was just a pitiful guy who’d barely spoken to anyone but other boys for sixteen years.

Whether her nerves had settled or not, Mahito watched the flustered Yuuri as they arrived at the station.

◇

Just before eight in the morning, it was peak rush hour for students and commuters. Swiping their IC cards at the gate and descending to the platform, they found it already overflowing with people. Yuuri, on her first commute, was stunned, but when the train arrived, they had no choice but to be swept along with the crowd.

Somehow managing to disembark, Yuuri, exhausted after just two stations, groaned weakly. “Onii-san, is commuting like this every morning?”

“Sadly, it’s like this even on holidays.”

“…Maybe I’ll switch to biking.”

Their home and Kuwa High were technically in the same city, so biking wasn’t impossible. It was about six or seven kilometers.

Mahito shook his head. “Biking comes with its own challenges, you know?”

The terrain around here was quite hilly, requiring multiple climbs up and down slopes. The school even encouraged commuting by train or bus, though Mahito suspected the main goal was to avoid bicycle accidents.

Yuuri hung her head in despair. “The hurdles just to get to school are way too high. I can’t believe you’ve been doing this for a whole year, Onii-san. You’re amazing.”

“I think the working adults out there have it even tougher, you know?”

Unlike Mahito and Yuuri, who got off after less than ten minutes, those commuters were stuck on the train for over an hour. That’s why both their father and mother came home looking completely burned out.

Yuuri, teary-eyed, clung to his arm. “Onii-san… no, Mahito-senpai. Will you go to school with me every day?”

“I-It’ll be fine!”

His stepsister looked up at him with a face that practically screamed don’t abandon me, testing Mahito’s composure yet again.

As they were talking, a voice called out from behind.

“Yuuri, Yuuri!”

“Oh, Tsukki!”

It was one of Yuuri’s friends—a fellow student from Kuwa High. She wore her cardigan loosely, with only her arms slipped through the sleeves, exuding a casually stylish air.

Mahito’s eyes widened in surprise.

Her hair was a striking blonde, styled in fluffy, permed twin tails adorned with cute ribbons on either side—the classic twin-tail look. Her outfit showed clear effort: shiny, round-toed leather pumps, a noticeably short skirt, a fluffy scrunchie on her wrist, and vibrant fake nail tips. Her dramatically long eyelashes marked her as a full-fledged gyaru at a glance.

—Whoa… so this is what a gyaru looks like.

She was likely the “soft and fluffy” type of gyaru, wasn’t she?

There were gyarus in Mahito’s grade too, but they leaned toward an aggressive, tough-girl vibe—somewhat intimidating. Those girls were a different breed, people he’d never interact with even if they shared a classroom. They might be nice if he spoke to them, but Mahito lacked the courage to try.

In contrast, the gyaru before him seemed kinder, or at least more approachable. Being Yuuri’s friend meant she was still a middle schooler until March. They were likely from the same middle school, but dyeing her hair there would’ve earned a scolding. What kind of transformation had she undergone in just a month?

Despite being Yuuri’s polar opposite, his stepsister happily clapped hands with the girl.

“Congrats on getting discharged! Is the memory loss thing for real?”

“Uh, um… yeah, it seems like it.”

Yuuri let out a startled squeak, and the gyaru burst into laughter.

“Ahaha, what’s that? That’s hilarious!”

Mahito didn’t quite grasp what was so funny, but Yuuri sighed in relief.

“I’m so glad, though. I was scared to walk into class alone.”

“Yuuri, you’re such a scaredy-cat. You’re cute, so you’ll totally be a hit!”

“Going in aiming to be a hit is way too high a bar!”

From Yuuri’s relaxed tone, despite her polite language, it was clear they were close friends. It dawned on Mahito that Yuuri’s odd whimper earlier had likely rubbed off from this girl.

With Yuuri meeting up with a friend, she’d probably head to school with her. As Mahito quietly tried to step back, the gyaru’s eyes flicked toward him.

“Who’s that?”

“Oh, um, he’s my… ‘Onii-san.’”

The term didn’t come naturally yet. Yuuri answered hesitantly, as if it felt unreal, and the gyaru’s eyes widened.

“Onii-san? Like, that one?”

“That one?”

Yuuri tilted her head, puzzled, and the gyaru quickly averted her gaze.

“N-No, I mean, didn’t you say you forgot about your brother?”

“Oh, yeah. I feel bad, but I still haven’t remembered…”

Yuuri’s shoulders slumped. Mahito offered her a reassuring smile.

“I’m her brother, Mahito. You’re Yuuri’s friend? Thanks for being good to my little sister.”

“Oh, uh, yeah… I’m Yamanashi Hitomi. First-year. Yamanashi is written like ‘the village where the moon is seen.’”

Nodding at her explanation, Mahito replied, “Oh, like how Takanashi is written with the characters for ‘little birds at play.’ I’ve seen rare surnames like that in articles before.”

“Thanks!”

Yamanashi kept glancing at Yuuri, as if checking on her.

—Oh, right. Since she’s Yuuri’s friend, she probably doesn’t think too highly of me either.

Yuuri before her memory loss wasn’t the type to badmouth people, I think, but the vibe of her disliking me must’ve come through somehow.

Mahito took a quiet step back. “Don’t mind me. You two probably want to catch up as friends.”

“N-No, but… is that okay?”

Yamanashi looked surprisingly troubled.

Meanwhile, Yuuri tilted her head, clearly oblivious to the issue.

In other words, the group consisted of two people aware of the strained sibling relationship and one who’d forgotten it entirely—an awkward combination, to say the least.

Still, Yamanashi didn’t seem the type to dredge up their past issues here. While keeping an eye on Yuuri, she steered the conversation toward harmless small talk.

A smoother guy could probably slip away naturally and head to class. But Mahito knew if he tried, it’d come off painfully obvious. As a result, he and Yamanashi maintained a cautious distance, like samurai sizing each other up, until they reached the school gate.

◇

“…I’m exhausted.”

Lunch break. Finally alone, Yuuri slumped onto her desk.

Surprisingly—or perhaps predictably—Yuuri’s class had welcomed her warmly. Her homeroom teacher had already explained her accident before school started, which helped smooth things over.

Even better, the teacher had addressed her silver hair before she needed to bring it up herself, instantly earning her respect.

So far, so good. But the story of her “traffic accident right before starting school” seemed to spark excitement among her classmates, turning it into a piece of intriguing gossip. As a result, every break brought a barrage of questions, leaving Yuuri no time to catch her breath.

—If they found out about my memory loss too, what would happen…?

She wasn’t good at keeping secrets. The constant fear of someone asking about her brother only drained her further.

“Good work, Yuuri!”

“Eek!”

A cold PET bottle pressed against Yuuri’s cheek.

She yelped and jumped, only to see Yamanashi holding the bottle, casually sipping a strawberry milk carton through a straw.

“Tsukki, don’t scare me like that!”

“You should be thanking me for saving you!”

When Yuuri had been overwhelmed by the flood of questions, Yamanashi had stepped in, deftly handling their curious classmates.

Laughing brightly while sipping her straw, Yamanashi teased, “But, like, you’ve kinda softened up, haven’t you, Yuuri?”

“No way! Did I gain weight? That can’t be…”

During her hospital stay, she’d eaten only healthy meals and had been thrilled to see the scale drop by nearly two kilos.

Yamanashi shot her an exasperated look. “Not like that. I mean your personality.”

“Eh, did something change?”

Tilting her head, Yuuri noticed Yamanashi glance away, as if nervous.

“You used to be, like, sharp as a knife, you know?”

“What does that mean?!”

She didn’t recall ever being that bad…

Yamanashi laughed and continued. “Well, you still use polite language with everyone, but you used to be, like, super intense, right? Especially with guys—”

“—Hey, Utsurogi-san, wanna eat with us?”

A male classmate cut in, overly familiar.

Yuuri’s gaze turned as cold as permafrost. “I’m talking with my friend right now.”

“…Sorry about that.”

The boy slunk away, visibly deflated.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“…Yeah, guess you haven’t changed that much.”

“…?”

Yamanashi narrowed her eyes nostalgically, sipping her straw.

Then, lowering her voice and glancing around, she asked, “So, are things going okay with your brother?”

Despite her flashy appearance, Yamanashi wasn’t the type to spill secrets. That’s why Yuuri had confided in her about her memory issues.

“Um, well, sort of… it’s still kind of a work in progress, I guess.”

Yuuri genuinely wanted to get along with Mahito, but her efforts seemed to backfire—like wearing his pajamas by mistake or getting too close without thinking.

—But he didn’t get annoyed or anything. He was so kind.

He didn’t pull away or tease her; he accepted everything earnestly, almost too kindly.

Even though Yuuri was a heartless stepsister who’d forgotten her brother, he was trying to meet her where she was.

Was it really okay for siblings to be this unconditionally kind? It almost made her anxious.

She wanted to get along with him. At the very least, things felt like they were heading in a good direction.

Catching herself almost smiling, Yuuri glanced at Yamanashi, who asked cautiously, “Is it cool if I talk to your brother?”

Not grasping the question, Yuuri tilted her head. “Huh? Why wouldn’t it be?”

Laughing at her friend’s odd concern, Yuuri noticed Yamanashi’s expression turn complicated.

“…Well, if you’re fine with it, then it’s all good.”

“…? What do you mean?”

Yamanashi gave a vague smile, clearly sidestepping the topic.

“Nah, I just wondered if it was okay since you use polite language with him too.”

“It’s not just him—I talk like this at home too, you know?”

Even her best friend’s eyes widened at that.

“Wait, why?”

“Why…? Huh, why do I…?”

Now that she thought about it, Yuuri hadn’t always been this way as a kid. It had just… happened at some point.

—Wait, wasn’t there some kind of trigger…?

She couldn’t remember.

As Yuuri furrowed her brow in thought, Yamanashi let out an “Oh!”

“More importantly! You’re coming to my place today, right? The usual, yeah?”

This best friend had a troublesome hobby, and Yuuri was always dragged into it. She knew Yamanashi was changing the subject, but if her friend didn’t want to talk about it, it was probably something she shouldn’t pry into. Digging into things someone didn’t want to share wasn’t what friends did.

Yuuri went along with it reluctantly. “Ugh… fine, I guess.”

“Hehe, I knew you’d say that, Yuuri. Love you!”

“…Jeez.”

As Yamanashi playfully hugged her, Yuuri’s expression softened.

—I wanted to ask what things were like between me and Onii-san before, though.

Yamanashi, who knew about her memory loss, surely had some idea. So why was she avoiding the topic? A bad feeling crept up, and Yuuri couldn’t bring herself to press further.

◇

“…I’ve got no right to worry about others right now.”

Lunch break. By now, Mahito was finally coming to terms with his own situation.

You’d think he’d at least exchange greetings when he got to class in the morning. But when Mahito said “Morning” to a classmate, they gave him a look like this guy actually talks? and returned an awkward greeting. It broke his spirit.

Half a day later, with lunch break nearly over, he still hadn’t had a single conversation.

Looking around, he saw friend groups had already formed, and there was no space for him anywhere.

—Well, yeah, if you’ve been a zombie for a whole week, you’re not gonna make friends.

At Kuwa High, when advancing to the second year, students had to choose between the humanities or sciences track. All the friends Mahito had been close with in his first year chose sciences, leaving him as the only one to pick humanities. In other words, he needed to start making friends from scratch.

Yet, having neglected that effort, Mahito was already on the verge of becoming a loner in this classroom.

—But my grades in Japanese were still better than in math…

Should he have followed the others and chosen sciences? Picking a path unsuited to him just for temporary camaraderie would be putting the cart before the horse, though.

Even so, in a school where the academic level was higher than his grades, and with classes barely sinking in for the past week, he was already starting to fall behind. Since the track choice only happened in the first year, the faces in class wouldn’t change much even with a shuffle from second to third year. At this rate, he’d spend the remaining two years in lonely high school isolation.

But even if he tried to start a conversation, his heart wasn’t made of steel to withstand the “What’s with this guy?” looks from this morning, let alone keep the talk going.

—If only there were some kind of trigger to start a conversation…

But what kind of trigger would that be?

He was holding his head in his hands, alone, when it happened.

“—Um, Utsurogi-kun… right?”

A soft, reserved voice called out from behind.

Turning around, Mahito saw a female student standing there, her long bangs framing glasses. Looking up at her, his eyes widened in surprise.

Her face, partially hidden by those bangs, came into clear view. Long black hair and angular glasses might sound plain, but far from it. The small, refined face peeking out from under her bangs was striking, with large eyes beneath her glasses that stood out even more. In a game, she’d be the type to transform with a slight hairstyle change—a hidden beauty kind of girl. Including that vibe, she had the quintessential “class president” look.

Marveling that such a person actually existed, Mahito found himself at a loss for words.

“Yeah, that’s me, but, uh…?”

—Crap. I don’t remember her name.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t memorized not just her name but any of his classmates’. No wonder he couldn’t make friends. It was his own fault.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t memorized not just her name but any of his classmates’. No wonder he couldn’t make friends. It was his own fault.

Fortunately, the class president-like girl kindly introduced herself. “I’m Himemiya. Himemiya Yui. I’m, well, this class’s representative…”

As her appearance suggested, Himemiya was indeed the actual class representative.

Mahito hurriedly straightened his posture. “O-Oh, really? Sorry, I’ll remember that.”

He wanted to ask her to share the names of their other classmates too, but the atmosphere didn’t feel right for such a bold request.

—She seems… really serious?

The vibe was almost as if she were about to demand a confession of sins. Unfortunately, Mahito wasn’t a priest, and this was his first time meeting her.

Still, if the class representative was speaking to him, it was likely about class matters. “I-Is there some assignment I missed or something?”

For the past week, lessons had gone in one ear and out the other. Forgetting one or two assignments was entirely possible.

When he asked cautiously, Himemiya shook her head, flustered. “No, it’s not that, it’s just…”

She hesitated, averting her gaze, her face flushing red for reasons Mahito couldn’t fathom.

—Huh? What’s with that reaction?

Instinctively, he checked his pants. No classic mistakes like an open zipper, thankfully.

When a girl reacted like that, even at a first meeting, a high school boy couldn’t help but get his hopes up—it was the sad nature of the creature. Especially since she was his type, his head bloomed with fleeting fantasies.

Mahito took a small breath to steady himself.

—Okay, relax. She’s probably just shy and bad at talking to people.

He couldn’t deny being a pathetic high school boy, but he also knew guys like him were often labeled “gross” by girls. Back in middle school, some girls played cruel games, confessing to boys like him as a penalty, turning them into the butt of jokes.

If he messed up here, his high school life for the next two years could be doomed. He had to stay calm and read the situation carefully.

As he observed, Himemiya clasped her hands behind her back and said shyly, “Utsurogi-kun, do you… remember me?”

“Huh?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Mahito let out a dumbfounded sound.

—Who is she?

Himemiya was the less noticeable type, but if they were in the same class, he’d remember her. At the very least, they definitely weren’t in the same class last year.

With different classes, there weren’t many chances to interact. He couldn’t recall any connection.

—Then, maybe someone from middle school or elementary school…?

From that far back, there were plenty of people he wouldn’t remember.

As he floundered, unable to recall, Himemiya let out a small sigh. “…Well, I figured.”

Her tone carried a mix of exasperation and faint relief.

—Oh no, did I offend her…?

No one would feel good hearing they weren’t remembered.

“S-Sorry…”

Guilt welled up, but making excuses would only seem insincere. Mahito apologized earnestly.

Himemiya shook her head. “No, don’t worry about it. I kind of expected that.”

—She’s really nice.

Bracing for a scolding, Mahito felt a touch of admiration.

Hesitantly, he ventured, “Um, can I ask? Where did we meet?”

“That’s…”

Her hesitation suggested it was something she didn’t want to discuss. Himemiya visibly averted her gaze and changed the subject. “More importantly, you looked like you were struggling with something…”

—Is it something I shouldn’t ask about?

He was curious about who she was, but he was the one being rude here. Mahito didn’t have the courage to press further.

Instead, he scratched behind his ear with a wry smile. “Struggling, huh? Well, kinda. To be honest, I haven’t been paying attention in class for the past week. I barely took any notes, so I’m already lost.”

Laughing off his own failure, he was surprised when Himemiya looked down with an unexpectedly serious expression. “I see… That makes sense.”

“Huh?”

Her understanding reaction to his pathetic story left Mahito blinking in confusion.

“Wait a sec.”

Himemiya walked over to a desk—likely her own—and rummaged through it before returning with a few notebooks. “Here, you can borrow my notes if you want.”

“Whoa, really?”

Himemiya finally smiled. “If something like this helps.”

Mahito’s eyes widened.

—Is she… actually into me?

Her radiant smile sparked the thought. Tapping his chest to calm himself, he took a deep breath. He needed to think logically.

Even if they had some past connection, it was probably just her class president nature, worrying about a struggling classmate. Maybe she felt extra concerned because they were acquaintances.

—But where did we meet…?

That was the real question.

Just as he was about to ask, the chime signaling the end of break rang.

“Well, I’ll head back. When you’re done copying the notes, just leave them on my desk.”

“Oh, thank you!”

Himemiya returned to her seat.

As Mahito stared blankly at her back, someone poked his arm from the neighboring desk. “I’ve never seen the class president talk that much. What’s the deal with you two?”

It was the guy sitting next to him. Apparently, Himemiya already had the nickname “class president.”

—So, she really doesn’t talk much usually, huh?

Mahito shook his head. “Uh, no, it’s like… not our first meeting, apparently, but it’s the first time we’ve talked, I think.”

Feeling more guilt than confusion, he stammered his response.

“Huh, really?”

The guy gave him a skeptical look, but the teacher arrived, and they had to stand and bow.

The next class was math, which Mahito wasn’t great at. Even in the humanities track, it seemed he couldn’t escape it.

Still, even after class started, the guy next to him kept talking. “Utsurogi, right? First time I’ve seen you talk, too. You didn’t even respond when I tried talking to you before, did you?”

“Oh, s-sorry, I didn’t notice…”

Hiding his face behind his textbook, Mahito apologized.

Apparently, the guy had tried talking to him last week. With his mind consumed by his sister’s situation, Mahito hadn’t registered it at all.

“Didn’t notice? You serious? Well, whatever.”

“No, I mean, last week was kind of rough…”

“Yeah, I could kinda tell, but what happened?”

“Well, my family got into an accident, so…”

Explaining briefly, the guy gasped. “Whoa, my bad. Shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Must’ve been tough…”

The guy patted Mahito’s shoulder sympathetically.

Then, Mahito realized he didn’t even know the guy’s name. “Uh, um…”

“Oh, I’m Azumagi. Azumagi Ritsuto.”

“Sorry, I didn’t even know your name…”

Feeling genuinely bad, Mahito bowed his head, but Azumagi laughed it off, unoffended. “No worries, no worries. Must’ve been hard to focus on school. Is your family okay now?”

“Yeah, the injuries weren’t too bad, and they were discharged over the weekend… But there’s some lingering effects, like aftereffects.”

“Got it… Hope they recover soon.”

Mahito nodded vaguely.

—I want her to get better, but if her memories come back, will we stop talking…?

The sudden thought made Mahito freeze. He shook his head quickly, trying to banish it.

—What am I thinking?!

It was almost as if Mahito was secretly glad about Yuuri’s memory loss. He didn’t want to reject the current Yuuri, but wishing her memories stayed gone felt wrong.

If they stopped talking, it’d be due to his own lack of effort, not her fault.

Azumagi looked at him with concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing…”

As Mahito tried to brush it off with a vague smile, the teacher’s voice boomed. “Hey, you two, quiet down!”

Class had already started.

They thought they’d kept their voices low, but they’d clearly talked too much. Scolded by the teacher, Mahito and Azumagi hurriedly straightened up, then shared a quiet laugh.

In that moment, Mahito realized he’d made his first friend in his second year.

Unbeknownst to them, Himemiya, the class president, was watching them intently.

◇

“So cute! Yuuri’s too adorable! She’s all fired up! Is that a tiny Snow White on her shoulder? A beauty who’d make crying kids stop and stare! Oh, could you look a bit lower, tilt your head down like that, please!”

After school, Yuuri had been dragged to Tsukki’s house.

What was she doing there? Being dressed up like a doll. The bed was adorned with frilly canopies and cushions, transforming the room into a full-on photo studio.

—Tsukki hasn’t changed one bit, huh?

At school, she dressed normally, but this hobby had started around middle school. Her own fashion obsession, though, had apparently begun in her upper elementary years.

Tsukki’s parents were both stylists for dramas, so she’d likely picked up the habit from them. Her makeup skills, in particular, were far beyond what you’d expect from a first-year high schooler.

Yuuri, as a girl herself, wasn’t uninterested in fashion, and while asking questions, she’d somehow become the dress-up doll. Honestly, being put in cute clothes didn’t feel bad at all.

Today, she wore a pitch-black gothic lolita outfit with dangling chains, looking like something a metal band might wear. Where did Tsukki even get clothes like these? Tilting her head in wonder, Yuuri posed as directed, basking in the camera’s shutter clicks.

Her fingers sported jet-black nail polish, its translucent quality hinting at an expensive brand. Her face was caked in stark white makeup, paired with black lipstick to match.

This time, the outfit screamed gothic metal album cover, but other times it might be a hand-knitted cardigan and long skirt for a forest girl vibe, or even a uniform from another school. These weren’t styles Yuuri would ever choose herself, but that was part of the fun.

Still…

“Oh, that expression’s perfect! That wistful vibe is amazing!”

Her best friend was over the moon, but Yuuri felt a pang of guilt. “Hey, Tsukki. You’re always dressing me up, but don’t you want to focus on your own fashion?”

Sure, Yuuri wouldn’t do this kind of makeup herself, but putting together a full set like this had to cost a fortune. Plus, she’d never gotten skin irritation from these sessions, and it was clear the makeup tools were top-notch.

Even if it was Tsukki’s hobby, Yuuri felt like she was the one reaping all the benefits. Being pampered this much every time made her uneasy.

Tsukki tilted her head, genuinely puzzled. “…? I can do my own fashion alone, but I can’t do Yuuri’s fashion without Yuuri, right?”

“I-Is that how it works?”

Apparently, she got her fill of her own fashion when alone, so this was fine.

“Or, what, you wanna be in the pics with me? Hold on, I’ll change!”

“That’s not what I meant…”

Before Yuuri could finish, Tsukki tossed off her uniform and slipped into a gothic lolita outfit like Yuuri’s, hers red-based to complement Yuuri’s black. Even her makeup, changed in a flash, matched perfectly.

Tsukki plopped down next to Yuuri, selfie stick in hand. “Alright, we’re good! Wooo!”

“Woo…”

Wondering if that cheer really fit the vibe, Yuuri got caught up and struck a pose anyway.

After a burst of rapid-fire shots, Tsukki flopped onto the bed with a content grin. “Haa, that was fun. A whole week without Yuuri was way too tough.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s been a week, hasn’t it?”

The last time was the day Yuuri went to pick up her Kuwa High uniform. Tsukki had insisted on seeing her in it, so she’d stopped by on the way home.

That night, the accident happened.

—Wait, wasn’t there something I was supposed to do after that…?

The fleeting sense of an important, unresolved task gnawed at Yuuri, but no matter how she racked her brain, it wouldn’t surface.

Tsukki leaned in, peering closely at her face. “You okay? You look kinda down. Got something worrying you, Yuuri?”

“Oh, no, it’s just… um, this nail polish and stuff, it’s pretty expensive, right? I feel bad washing it off so soon, like it’s a waste…”

She blurted out a half-truth to cover her thoughts. It was something she’d been thinking about too.

Yuuri hadn’t told her family about Tsukki’s hobby, so she always washed off the makeup and nail polish before heading home. Knowing the cost of the cosmetics made her feel guilty.

Tsukki just laughed brightly. “What, that’s it?”

“That’s it, you say…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! They’re just hand-me-downs from Mom and Dad anyway. It’d be a waste not to use them.”

Yuuri was speechless. “You mean, like, stuff professional actors use?”

“Probably? I dunno.”

“You’re so casual about it…”

Apparently, Tsukki got leftovers or discontinued stock from her stylist parents. No wonder the cosmetics felt so luxurious.

Then, Tsukki grinned happily. “Ehehe, I love how you worry about stuff like that, Yuuri.”

“Muu…”

Hugged tightly, Yuuri could only puff out her cheeks in protest.

“Why don’t you dress up more, Yuuri? You’re so cute, it’s such a waste.”

“I don’t have anyone to show off to or anything—”

Mid-sentence, her stepbrother’s face flashed in her mind.

—No, why would I show off to Onii-san?!

Unaware of Yuuri’s flustered thoughts, Tsukki said matter-of-factly, “Just show it to me! I wanna see.”

“You say that, Tsukki, but I think you’re way cuter.”

Yuuri couldn’t compare to Tsukki’s effort in refining herself. Comparing them felt presumptuous.

But Tsukki shook her head, exasperated. “Listen, Yuuri. My cute and your cute are totally different things, okay?”

“Huh, they’re different?”

“Obviously! Like, I’m cute in anything, but some clothes look cuter on you than me, right? And vice versa. That’s not about who’s better, it’s just different.”

“W-Well, yeah…”

Caught off guard by the unexpectedly serious answer, Yuuri was taken aback.

“That said, I’ve never seen a girl cuter than you, except me.”

And just like that, the premise collapsed. That unshakable confidence in her own cuteness was so very Tsukki.

Laughing gleefully, Tsukki touched Yuuri’s silver hair. “Don’t worry, you’re cute. I guarantee it. This hair’s gorgeous, your big eyes are cute, your smooth cheeks are cute—you’re made of cute parts!”

“Augh, tone it down a bit…”

Bombarded with “cute,” Yuuri teared up. If they were in public, she’d probably have bolted.

—But it’s because Tsukki’s like this that we’ve stayed friends, right…?

After all, Tsukki was the only one who’d ever called Yuuri’s silver hair beautiful to her face.

“…Huh?”

She tilted her head.

—I love your hair, Yuuri. It’s beautiful.—

Someone else had said that to her before. But when she tried to remember, it slipped through her fingers like water or sand, and she couldn’t pin it down.

—Was that… Onii-san, maybe?

If so, it would’ve been a precious memory. Yet, she still couldn’t feel any real connection to it.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice Tsukki chattering on. “Hey, if you dress up, send me pics, okay?”

“I’ve never taken selfies, so I wouldn’t know how.”

Sighing, Yuuri gave her a skeptical look.

“Anyway, why would I take pictures of myself? To post on Insc? I don’t even use Insc…”

Insc, short for “inscription telegram,” was an SNS where people shared selfies, lifestyle photos, or videos to connect with others. It was meant to send out memorable info like a telegram, etched like a stone tablet.

Tsukki had pushed her to make an Insc account, but Yuuri barely used it.

“What? You could, like, send them to your boyfriend or something!”

“I-I-I-I don’t have a boyfriend!”

Blushing furiously as she denied it, Tsukki suddenly grew serious, lost in thought.

“…Wait, I can’t handle the idea of some guy hitting on Yuuri.”

“Don’t call them bugs! Anyway, don’t you have a boyfriend, Tsukki?”

Tsukki tilted her head, genuinely confused. “Me? Why would I? I’ve got Yuuri.”

“Stop, that’s creepy…”

Her best friend’s ominous vibe made Yuuri want to flee.

Tsukki gave a wry smile. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t have a boyfriend, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you’re all about Onii—”

Cutting herself off, Tsukki clapped a hand over her mouth.

“…? What was that?”

Frowning, Yuuri got a teasing smirk in return.

“You don’t like guys, do you, Yuuri?”

“I wouldn’t say I hate them… maybe I’m just not great with them.”

Mumbling excuses, she couldn’t deny she wasn’t fond of them.

Tsukki clapped her hands, as if struck by a brilliant idea. “Got it! Let’s go overseas and get married, Yuuri!”

“I want a romantic marriage, thank you very much!”

“…? If it’s romance, just do it with me.”

Head throbbing, Yuuri couldn’t tell how serious her friend was as she spread her arms wide, ready for a challenge.

Just then, her phone blared a loud shupopopo sound—a flood of LIME notifications.

Opening her phone, Yuuri saw today’s photo data. As she checked the images, Tsukki leaned in, hijacking the screen. “This one! Today’s best shot. That cool, aloof vibe is perfect.”

“I-Is it…?”

Being praised for her own photo was embarrassingly thrilling. Still, it felt nice to be complimented, so she couldn’t complain.

“You gotta own your cuteness more, Yuuri. You’re way beyond any random model. No guy could meet your gaze without flinching, right?”

“I don’t glare at people that much!”

“Hahaha, listen to her!”

Tsukki laughed as if she’d heard a great joke.

—I don’t glare that much, do I? Right?

Self-awareness was still a distant goal.

Her gaze fell to a photo of her and Tsukki together. Tsukki was ridiculously good at photography. The Yuuri in the picture looked almost unrecognizably beautiful.

Then, a question hit her.

—Have I ever shown Onii-san photos like these?

No, this was a secret hobby between her and Tsukki. She hadn’t even shown her family, so showing her stepbrother seemed unlikely.

—But we were pretty close, weren’t we…?

It’d be embarrassing if he knew, but she’d be happy if he called her cute.

—Would he be as excited as Tsukki…?

Family photos often brought unexpected joy, letting you share or revisit memories. For Yuuri, whose memories were missing, that felt a bit premature. Her stepbrother was kind, but she was the sister who’d forgotten him.

Still, she was curious about his reaction. But it’d be embarrassing to show him. And if he looked totally uninterested, she’d lose the courage to talk to him for a while.

But she was curious.

Then, it hit her. “Oh, right. LIME’s chat history…”

Photo exchanges would likely happen via LIME. She didn’t know any other way.

Checking the chat history might reveal if she’d ever sent him anything—and maybe shed light on what kind of conversations she and Mahito had before.

—I could learn more about what we were like…

Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner?

Opening LIME, Yuuri’s eyes widened in shock. “Huh? It’s not here.”

Her brother’s name wasn’t in her LIME contacts.

—Dad and Mom’s are there, though…

Despite having her family’s contacts, Mahito’s was inexplicably missing.

Seeing Yuuri’s confusion, Tsukki tilted her head. “What’s up?”

“Um, someone’s contact is gone from LIME…”

“Whoa, seriously? Did you get a new phone, Yuuri?”

“No, that’s not it…”

She’d gotten her first phone in the summer of her second year of middle school and hadn’t changed it since. Her family’s contacts should’ve been added back then.

Tsukki put a finger to her lips, musing. “Can contacts just vanish like that? Maybe you got their address but forgot to add it?”

“That shouldn’t be…”

But she couldn’t remember. It wasn’t impossible.

—What’s going on? Was there some reason Onii-san’s wasn’t added…?

Even so, she’d have had plenty of chances to ask him later.

“Hmm, can’t you just ask them directly? Or maybe someone else who’d know their contact?”

“Oh, no, I can ask if I need to.”

Trying to reassure Tsukki, who was ready to take the issue seriously, Yuuri hurriedly replied.

She didn’t know why it was gone, but she could just ask when she got home. At the time, she thought it was no big deal and didn’t dwell on it.

◇

“So, why’s Azumagi-kun here too?”

After school, Mahito found himself walking through the school with Himemiya and Azumagi.

When he’d admitted he was struggling to keep up with classes, Himemiya offered to tutor him. They were headed to the library for that, but somehow Azumagi had tagged along.

—I wonder if Yuuri’s okay on her way home?

She should’ve gone to and from the station enough times before enrollment, and she had close friends. She probably wouldn’t get lost, but it was her first day of school, so it was hard not to worry.

Lost in thought, Mahito felt Azumagi sling an arm around his shoulder. “Why? Well… I was gonna invite Utsurogi to the arcade, but the class president beat me to it!”

With zero apparent interest in Mahito, Azumagi declared their solid friendship.

—Could it be…?

Even Mahito, meeting him for the first time, could tell Azumagi had a thing for Himemiya. In other words, this guy had also noticed she was a hidden beauty.

What welled up in Mahito wasn’t jealousy or possessiveness but a sense of camaraderie, like finding a kindred spirit. As expected, those who got it, got it.

While Mahito nodded to himself, Himemiya tilted her head curiously. “Is that so? Sorry, I didn’t know you had plans.”

“N-No, it’s not like that…”

Azumagi’s face showed a mix of relief and disappointment, a complicated expression.

Mahito narrowed his eyes.

—He’s being pretty obvious about it…

Unfortunately, Himemiya seemed completely oblivious.

For a moment, Mahito had wondered if Himemiya liked him, but both she and Azumagi were practically strangers to him.

—I don’t want to be a loner in class for the next two years.

Rather than fleeting hopes that might be a misunderstanding, having friends to last until graduation was far more important to Mahito.

Himemiya murmured, troubled. “Should we go to the library another time, then?”

“Uh, well, maybe…”

Mahito had a feeling Azumagi wouldn’t be satisfied with rescheduling.

Taking a chance, he suggested, “If it’s okay with Azumagi-kun, why don’t we all study together?”

A study session. He never thought he’d use that phrase in real life.

Azumagi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Huh, you sure…?”

“Yeah. More people helping means less burden on Himemiya-san, right?”

Turning to Himemiya, she nodded. “I don’t mind either way.”

At her response, Azumagi rubbed under his nose, like a character from a Showa-era manga, and grinned reluctantly. “Utsurogi… you’re a good guy. Alright! If that’s the deal, I’ll join in and help out!”

And so, somehow, the three of them ended up holding a study session in the library.

…By the way, Azumagi was also on the receiving end of the tutoring.

◇

“…But seriously, where did we meet?”

That night, while copying Himemiya’s notes in his room, Mahito muttered to himself.

The after-school study session had been surprisingly productive. Only a week into classes, he felt he could catch up, with fewer concepts slipping through his grasp. He could’ve returned the notes right away, but since he had the chance, he decided to copy them.

Himemiya’s notes were meticulously organized, easy to read, with important points highlighted in red or marked with highlighters, making review straightforward. Her delicate handwriting, reflecting her personality, felt oddly mature.

That’s why not remembering her gnawed at him so much. He felt guilty, but he was also desperate to know what their connection was.

—In a rom-com, this’d be where we made a childhood marriage promise or something.

Unfortunately, Mahito wasn’t that charming, even in kindergarten. Dreaming about it was pointless.

Still, without some possibility like that, he couldn’t fathom why she’d be so kind to someone who didn’t remember her.

His thoughts drifted not to Himemiya but to his stepsister. “…Maybe Yuuri feels like this too?”

Being treated kindly by someone you didn’t remember made guilt outweigh gratitude. In trying to be considerate of his stepsister, he worried he might be burdening her instead.

But pushing her away didn’t seem right either. What was the right way to handle this?

Leaning back in his chair, Mahito muttered, “I hope Yuuri’s okay…”

His stepsister seemed to have stopped somewhere on her way home, and he hadn’t seen her since she got back. Unlike him, she had friends, so she was probably fine, but her anxiety during the commute lingered in his mind. She’d seemed less tense after meeting her friends, but a new environment could bring unexpected issues.

He hoped she wouldn’t get teased about her hair color now that she was in high school, but her classmates were just middle schoolers a month ago. He couldn’t rule out them doing something thoughtless.

His worries piled up when, with a sharp pencil tucked under his nose, it happened.

A knock came at his door.

“Onii-san, is now okay?”

“Oh, come in.”

It’d been years since Yuuri visited his room. Flustered, Mahito nearly tripped over his chair as he stood.

“Uh…”

Opening the door, he found Yuuri standing there, looking awkward. Worried something had happened at school, Mahito’s heart raced as his stepsister thrust something out with force.

“Onii-san, I’m really sorry!”

She held out his pajamas.

—Oh, the ones she accidentally wore before.

She must’ve washed them. They were neatly folded, looking brand new. That meticulousness was so like Yuuri.

“Um, I washed them properly, so they shouldn’t be dirty.”

To the utterly dejected Yuuri, Mahito shook his head with a smile. “I told you not to worry about it, right? It’s fine.”

“…Okay.”

But Yuuri wasn’t the type to let it go just because he said so. Her face, a mix of regret and embarrassment, stayed downturned.

Her reaction reminded him of his encounter with Himemiya. Being told not to worry didn’t make it easy to stop.

—Not talking properly back then was probably a mistake too.

He didn’t know the right answer. So, Mahito decided to put it into words clearly.

“Well, if it was the other way around, that’d be a big problem, but a sister wearing her brother’s clothes isn’t a big deal, right?”

“The other way around?”

Tilting her head in confusion, Yuuri blinked at Mahito’s serious expression.

“Think about it. If I wore your clothes, they’d be stretched out tight. They might not tear, but they’d be ruined, right?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Plus, it’d look way too creepy.”

Exactly. A brother wearing his sister’s clothes would be nothing but trouble, but a sister wearing her brother’s didn’t hurt anything and wasn’t creepy. No issue at all.

“Pfft.”

Probably picturing her brother in drag, Yuuri couldn’t hold back a giggle.

Seeing his stepsister finally laugh, Mahito felt a wave of relief. Then, she flashed a mischievous grin.

“But I think Onii-san would actually pull it off.”

“H-Hey, watch it…!”

Though his smile twitched, Mahito felt even more at ease.

—If she’s teasing me, does that mean we’re getting closer?

It had only been a few days since Yuuri returned, but if she was joking like this, it wasn’t the distance you’d expect with a stranger. That was just her personality.

Being close enough for her to tease him made him genuinely happy. Come to think of it, she’d teased him by calling him “Senpai” that morning. Maybe Yuuri was trying harder to connect with him than he realized.

Then, he noticed she was still clutching the pajamas. “Thanks for bringing the pajamas.”

“…”

As he reached to take them, Yuuri looked oddly reluctant, gripping them tightly, not letting go.

“…Uh, did you maybe get attached to them?”

“H-Huh?! N-No, that’s not it!”

She must’ve been holding them unconsciously. Yuuri jumped, shaking her head vigorously. Then, blushing bright red, she stammered, “W-Well, my clothes have gotten kinda small, and Onii-san’s pajamas were actually pretty comfy, not that I have any weird intentions!”

Ranting while waving her hands, Yuuri didn’t seem to realize what she was blurting out.

—She’s spilling everything she’s thinking. Is that okay…?

Like that morning, now that she could talk, she seemed to voice every thought in her head. Mahito gave a wry smile.

“If you like them, want me to give them to you—?”

“—Wait, really?!”

Her eager response made Mahito lean back in surprise. He had a few spare pajamas, so giving one away wasn’t a problem.

“If that’s okay with you.”

“Ehehe, I’ll treasure them!”

He didn’t get what was so great about them, but Yuuri hugged the pajamas happily, burying her face in them. With her looking that happy, he couldn’t bring himself to complain.

“But I never thought I’d end up sharing clothes with my little sister.”

Normally, it’s something brothers do with brothers, or sisters with sisters—between the same gender. Since they were brother and sister, Yuuri never wore Mahito’s hand-me-downs.

Yuuri tilted her head and laughed. “Then next time, I’ll lend Onii-san my clothes, okay?”

“Why would you think of making me cross-dress?”

“Eh, I think it’d suit you, though.”

Mahito couldn’t hide his grimace at her words, unsure how serious she was.

Then, as if recalling something, her expression suddenly darkened. “…Oh, right.”

The cheerful look from before vanished, replaced by a serious one. Mahito responded earnestly. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at school?”

“N-No, it’s not like that…”

Though she denied it, she hesitated, fingers nervously entwined. After a pause, she mustered the courage to speak.

“Um, Onii-san.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“…Well…”

She opened her mouth, but no words followed. Her conflicted expression suggested it might be something important.

“You two, dinner’s ready!”

As Mahito waited for Yuuri’s next words, their mother’s voice called from downstairs.

Mahito sometimes cooked dinner, but only when their mother was late or busy. Most days, she handled it.

“Coming!”

He responded and turned to Yuuri. “Should we continue this after dinner?”

As he reached for the door, Yuuri hurriedly stretched out her hand. “W-Wait—ah!”

“—Watch out!”

His flustered stepsister stumbled, nearly falling face-first. Lately, Yuuri had been tripping a lot. Mahito instinctively turned to catch her, but she tried to steady herself, stepping forward awkwardly.

As a result, they collided head-on and tumbled together.

“Ouch…”

Mahito hit the wall, landing hard on his backside. The impact to the back of his head brought tears to his eyes. Meanwhile, Yuuri braced herself against the wall, looming over him. The pajamas slipped from her hand, falling onto his body.

A wall-slam from his stepsister pinned Mahito in place.

Yuuri’s face, framed by her silver hair, was bright red, her breathing heavy from the panic.

“U-Um, Yuuri…-san?”

He cautiously called her name, but it backfired—she swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on him with an intense gaze.

It wasn’t the sharp, knife-like stare she used to have. It was more like the hungry look of a wolf eyeing a delicious meal.

Then, as if it were the most natural thing, she touched Mahito’s cheek with her index finger, tilting his chin upward. Her cold, commanding gaze pierced through him, leaving him speechless.

Mahito stammered wordlessly, and his stepsister spoke. “Onii-san.”

“Y-Yes!”

Her quiet voice drew a high-pitched, nervous reply from Mahito.

—What in the world is happening here?!

His heart pounded wildly, caught in a mix of fear or something else entirely.

“There’s something I want to ask Onii-san.”

“…!”

He caught his breath. The flustered racing of his heart shifted to a pounding born of dread.

—Is this about before she lost her memories…?

She’d been with friends today. Maybe she’d learned something about how close they used to be.

“N-No, it’s not like that. I wasn’t trying to deceive you, Yuuri…”

Cutting off his frantic words, Yuuri said, “Please tell me your LIME contact info.”

“…Eh?”

“Eh?”

Mahito’s eyes widened at the unexpected request. Yuuri, caught off guard by his reaction, blinked in surprise.

“Oh, uh, um… LIME, right. Come to think of it, we haven’t exchanged contacts, have we…?”

“Seems like we haven’t.”

“Uh, can we do it after dinner? Mom’s calling.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Later, then.”

With that, Yuuri picked up her pajamas and helped Mahito to his feet, her gestures oddly more composed than her brother’s. Then, as if nothing had happened, she left the room.

Mahito covered his face.

—Just ask normally, please!

His stepsister’s sense of personal space was definitely a bit off. Clutching his still-racing heart, the brother—who now looked as flustered as a maiden—rolled around on the floor for a while.

◇

I messed uuuuuuuuuuup!

On the other side of the door, Yuuri was similarly covering her face, writhing in embarrassment.

—But Onii-san was just so… so defenseless, like a small animal!

His vulnerable expression sparked an overwhelming urge to protect—or something else—making her shiver with excitement, and she couldn’t help but tilt his chin up.

She wanted to praise herself for managing to bring up LIME in that moment.

“But…”

Recalling her stepbrother’s teary, glistening eyes sent another shiver through her. A dangerous urge to corner him further welled up inside.

The stepsister felt she might be awakening to a risky new hobby.

…By the way, she did get his LIME contact info later.