Episode 2: “So, my new stepmother and her son moved into our house…”

The Monday morning after the meet-and-greet with the Tominaga family, I was on my way to school, strolling alongside my delinquent friend, Kousei. I dropped the bombshell casually about my old man’s remarriage.

“So, get this, Kousei. I’m finally getting a sibling.”

“No clue why I’d care, but congrats, I guess,” he muttered, his tone as flat as ever.

“You’re acting like it’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Because it doesn’t.”

“…Fair point, it totally doesn’t.”

With that settled, I shot a glance at Kousei, who trudged beside me with his usual lazy vibe.

Blonde hair, pierced ears, tall, with a model-like slim build—he’s got the looks of a shoujo manga heartthrob. But don’t let that fool you. He’s not some outgoing, popular guy, nor is he particularly driven. Just lazy, apathetic, and perpetually grumpy. Still, Ueda Kousei is insanely popular with the girls. We’ve been stuck with each other since middle school, landed in the same high school, and now, we’re even in the same class. Talk about a cursed bond.

He’s not a bad dude, though. Annoying as hell, sure, but not bad.

“So, Kousei, I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“Pass,” he shot back without missing a beat.

“The other family’s moving in during summer break, so I was thinking—”

“Don’t wanna hear it.”

“I need help getting ready to welcome my new family!” I pressed, undeterred.

“…”

“Specifically, I’m talking about cleaning out a room. It’s for my future little brother, and since you’ve got experience with moving jobs, I could really use your help.”

“Ugh… Didn’t I just say I don’t wanna hear it?” Kousei grumbled, brushing back the blonde bangs that fell over his brows—a telltale sign he was annoyed.

Up ahead, a group of girls heading to school caught sight of him and let out high-pitched squeals of “Kyaa!” Kousei just muttered, “Annoying,” and left it at that. As a guy with zero game with girls, I’ll admit it ticked me off.

“So, Kousei, you’re free this Saturday, right?”

“I’ve got plans.”

“Like what?”

“Sleeping.”

“That’s not a plan, that’s a craving,” I retorted. “Come on, you could at least help me out a bit.”

“Too much hassle.”

“You’re such a lousy friend… I let you copy my homework notes all the time, don’t I?” It’s not like it does Kousei any good, but I’ve been letting him peek at my notes pretty often.

“I’m begging you, man. You’re the only one I can count on for something this tedious. My old man’s been swamped with work lately, not even around on weekends, and it’s too much for me to handle alone…”

“I said it’s a hassle, didn’t I—?” Kousei started to snap but then paused, like something clicked in his head. A sly smirk crept across his face. “—Fine, I’ll lend you Hinata. Do whatever you want with her.”

Ueda Hinata—Kousei’s little sister. A first-year at Yūki Academy, same as us. She’s the complete opposite of Kousei—genuinely a great kid. Honest, friendly, positive, and hardworking. Her personality alone is a winning hand, but throw in her looks, and it’s a double jackpot.

“She’d probably be thrilled to help you out,” Kousei added.

“No way, Hinata-chan’s off-limits. I can’t ask her to deal with something this annoying.”

“But it’s fine to ask me?”

“Yup!” I replied without hesitation.

“You didn’t even pause… Anyway, she was saying she’s free on Saturday.”

“What kind of brother just tosses his teenage sister into a guy’s house like that?”

“This kind. I trust you, man.”

“Trust? Come on, dude…”

“Hey, if you wanna make a move on her, I’m not stopping you.”

“Are you an idiot? You’re just trying to dump the hassle on your sister so you can slack off, aren’t you?” I shot back.

Kousei groaned, “Ugh, what a pain,” and ran his hand through his hair again.

“Don’t be such a grump about it. It’s just sorting and tossing some junk, and I’ll treat you to food after, okay?”

“That’s not what I meant. Hinata’s—”

Just as Kousei was about to finish his sentence, a familiar ponytail bounced right between us.

“—What about me, Onii-chan?”

Speak of the devil. The timing was so perfect that both Kousei and I froze in place.

“Ugh, Hinata…” Kousei muttered, his face twisting into a blatantly annoyed scowl, though Hinata didn’t seem to care one bit.

“Good morning, Ryouta-senpai!” she chirped, her voice bright and cheerful.

“M-morning, Hinata-chan,” I stammered, instinctively looking away.

A sweet, distinctly girly scent hit me a second later, and my attention unwillingly shifted to her. Man, since starting high school, Hinata’s gotten even more… mature. She’s not particularly tall, but her healthy, curvy figure stands out, even through her uniform. It’s hard to believe she was a middle schooler not too long ago—she’s got this undeniable feminine charm now.

The real problem? Hinata’s got zero sense of personal space. Even now, she barged right between me and Kousei without a second thought, completely unfazed as her shoulder brushed against mine. For a guy like me, with no experience with girls, it’s overwhelming. Sometimes the three of us walk to school together like this, but I still haven’t gotten used to how close she gets. Maybe I’m just overthinking it because I’m too aware of her.

Meanwhile, Hinata looked up at me with a carefree, radiant smile. “What were you and Onii-chan talking about?”

“Oh, uh, just about cleaning up my house.”

She pressed a finger to her plump lips, tilting her head in confusion—an adorable gesture that hit me like a sucker punch. She really needs to realize how dangerous that is.

“Cleaning up your house, Ryouta-senpai? What’s that got to do with me?”

Kousei jumped in without missing a beat. “Ryouta’s asking for help with cleaning up his place this Saturday.”

“Huh?” I blurted, caught off guard.

“Hey, hold on—!” I tried to interject, but Kousei was already steamrolling ahead.

“Ryouta’s dad is getting remarried, so they’re cleaning out a room for his new little brother. I’ve got plans, so you should go help him out, yeah?” he said, his sudden eloquence infuriating.

There’s no way Hinata would come to my house alone, right? I opened my mouth to protest. “No way, that’s not—!”

“I’ll do it!” Hinata declared, cutting me off.

“See, I told you—wait, what? You’re okay with it?”

“Onii-chan’s always relying on you, so leave it to me, Ryouta-senpai!”

“R-really?” I managed, still processing her enthusiasm. What a great kid—unlike a certain useless brother.

I shot a glance at said useless brother, who was smirking like he’d just pulled off a master plan by dumping the work on his sister. But he wasn’t getting off that easy. “Anyway, Hinata-chan, Kousei’s only ‘plan’ is sleeping, so maybe you can convince him to come help too.”

“What, that’s your plan!? Come on, Onii-chan, you’ve gotta help out!”

“…Tch, fine. I’ll help, alright?” Kousei grumbled, finally caving.

A wave of relief washed over me. Honestly, I’d feel bad making Hinata do it alone. More than that, the thought of being alone with her at my house was so awkward I could barely handle it.

“Oh, I’m coming too, so let’s all do our best together!”

“Huh? No, if Kousei’s coming—!”

Hinata’s joining in, huh? Lucky you, Ryouta.” Kousei smirked again.

I know I’m the one who asked, but in that moment, I swore I wouldn’t let this guy slack off.

＊ ＊ ＊

July 21st.

Summer break had finally kicked off, and just past noon, the moving truck rolled up to our house.

The movers handled most of the heavy lifting, leaving my old man and me with little to do but lounge in the living room. By the way, Miyuki-san and Akira were apparently swinging by a drugstore and supermarket to pick up some essentials before heading over.

“Hey, Dad.”

“What’s up?”

“Is that really all their stuff?” I asked, eyeing the modest pile of boxes. Considering how cluttered our house already was, I’d braced for a mountain of belongings, but it was barely half what I’d expected.

“They got rid of anything they didn’t need before coming,” Dad explained. “Apparently, they were sleeping side by side on futons in a single eight-mat room.”

“Got it. So Akira never even had his own room…” I murmured, picturing their life together. A teenage boy probably wants to keep a thing or two private from his mom. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Akira’s situation.

“Thanks for cleaning up the upstairs room so nicely. I bet he’ll love it.”

“Hope so. But doesn’t it seem like he’d say something like, ‘I don’t really need a room or anything’?” I said, half-joking.

“What, you imitating Akira now? Nah, he wouldn’t say it like that, would he?”

“By the way, have you told Akira about the room?”

“More or less.”

“Then I’ll show him around.”

“You sure? Alright, I’ll leave it to you.”

About an hour later, the movers wrapped up. Dad fiddled with his tablet to finalize things, and the movers left with cheerful “Thank you!”s and bright smiles. It was over faster than I expected, but now we had to wait for Miyuki-san and Akira before we could start unpacking.

So, Dad and I killed time for about thirty minutes until they finally showed up. I headed to the front door to greet them, where I found both Miyuki-san and Akira loaded with paper bags and reusable totes.

“Sorry we’re late! We’ll be in your care from today on.”

“N-no, we’re the ones who… uh…” I fumbled, never quite knowing how to respond in these situations, and settled for an awkward bow.

“Here, let me take those,” I offered, reaching for the bags.

“Thank you, Ryouta-kun,” Miyuki-san said with a smile.

A quick peek inside revealed groceries and daily necessities—shampoo, toner, and other girly stuff included. I got a little nervous. Sure, Dad’s brought work people over before, but having women visit is one thing—living with them is a whole different ballgame. The reality of it was starting to sink in.

“Well then, we’ll come in,” Miyuki-san said, stepping forward.

“Go ahead.”

My eyes met Akira’s for a brief moment. Miyuki-san headed straight for the living room, but Akira lingered at the entrance, looking like he wanted to say something.

“What’s up? You not coming in?”

“…Um, nice to meet you.”

“Y-yeah… same here,” I replied, caught off guard by his shy vibe, which made me feel flustered too.

“Well then, I’ll come in…” Akira said hesitantly, stepping inside and following his mom toward the living room.

“It’s not ‘I’ll come in,’ From now on, just say ‘I’m home.’ You’re not a guest.”

Akira glanced back and gave a small nod. That’s how I’d take it—slow, little by little—to close the distance with him.

I followed him into the living room, ready to start this new chapter together.

＊ ＊ ＊

After some small talk, we decided to spend the afternoon unpacking. I gave Akira a tour of the house, ending at the room upstairs.

“—Last but not least, this is your room, Akira.”

“This is my room?”

“Yup. My room’s next door, and Dad and Miyuki-san’s is over there. The bathroom’s at the end of the hall.”

“O-okay…” Akira murmured, seeming a little overwhelmed. He stood frozen at the door, staring inside.

“Come on, don’t be shy—go check it out,” I urged, giving him a gentle push into the room.

Sunlight spilled through the lace curtains in the south-facing room, bouncing off the glossy hardwood floor and brightening every corner.

I’d opened the windows earlier, so the air felt fresh, not stuffy. Looking at the room brought back memories of the day the Ueda siblings came over to help clean. This place used to be a chaotic storage room, but thanks to those two, it’s completely transformed. Hinata tackled everything with a smile, and even Kousei, the usual slacker, stepped up, asking, “What’s next?”

I can’t thank them enough. I promised to treat them to a meal, so I’ll let them pick whatever they want.

By the way, Dad and I polished the floors, bought a new bed and shelves, and even got a brand-new air conditioner installed a few days ago. The room was practically a blank canvas for Akira. But I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. We just did the bare minimum to welcome a new family member, that’s all. So, I figured I’d just mention that Kousei and Hinata helped clean the room.

“So, what do you think?”

No response. For a second, I got worried, but then Akira let out a soft, “Wow…”

“You like it?”

“Is it really okay for me to use such a nice room?”

“Of course. The movers stacked the boxes to one side, so all you’ve gotta do is unpack.”

“Okay.”

“If you want to rearrange the furniture, I’ll help. And if you need anything else, just let me or Dad know, no hesitation.”

Akira turned around, saying, “Thank you.”

I must’ve let my guard down, because the next moment, what I saw completely threw me off. I’d expected a boyish, excited grin, like a kid thrilled about something new. But instead, there was this pure, shy smile, almost… like a girl’s.

My heart started pounding like crazy.

—I couldn’t help it. I was completely captivated by Akira.

I snapped back to reality, catching Akira’s usual grumpy expression, his head tilted slightly.

“…What’s wrong?”

“Oh, uh, nothing, really, nothing at all!” I stammered, trying to play it off as I reached for a nearby cardboard box. “Alright, let’s start unpacking this one—!”

“No! Don’t touch that—!” Akira blurted, his face flushing bright red as he waved his hands in a panic.

“Huh?” I froze, glancing at the box. It was labeled “Clothes (Misc.)” in bold marker.

It hit me like a ton of bricks. “Misc.” probably meant underwear. Even between guys, you’d be careful about that kind of thing.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll handle it from here, so could you… leave?”

“Uh… sure—”

—Slam!

The door shut in my face before I could get another word out.

“Well then, take your time…” I said cheerfully toward the closed door, though, naturally, no reply came.

It felt like Akira’s heart was still firmly shut, much like the barrier now separating us. But no, I reminded myself—our relationship has only just begun.

Shaking off the thought, I turned my focus to what comes next.

＊　＊　＊

That evening, dinner began with Miyuki-san showcasing her knack for putting a meal together, while Akira and I handled the table setting, and Dad wandered around, clueless about how to contribute.

It had been ages since we’d had a proper meal on the table. Neither Dad nor I were any good at cooking, so we usually survived on takeout from the bento shop or supermarket side dishes, rarely bothering to even cook rice ourselves. This moment felt almost sacred by comparison.

When was the last time I’d eaten a proper home-cooked meal like this? I had to express my gratitude to Miyuki-san for making it happen.

“This hamburger is amazing! So delicious, Miyuki-san!”

“Oh, that’s just something I picked up from the discount section at the store,” she replied with a gentle smile.

“…Huh?” My face flushed with embarrassment, then drained to pale in an instant.

“Ryo-Ryouta…” Dad stifled a laugh, barely containing himself. “Pfft… Come on, seriously? Mistaking store-bought for homemade? Pfft…”

What kind of father doesn’t even try to cover for his son’s blunder? And now it was Dad’s turn, “Still, this spinach with sesame dressing is addictive. Nice one, Miyuki-san, I could eat this every day!”

“Oh, that’s from the store too… If you like it that much, maybe I’ll grab it every day,” she said, her tone teasing but kind.

“Urk…”

…Take that, Dad.

“All I made was the egg salad, the miso soup, and the rice,” Miyuki-san admitted. “Sorry about that—I’ll step it up starting tomorrow.”

“Yes…” Dad and I responded in unison, the moment driving home just how much we were cut from the same cloth.

Just then, a stifled “Kch… pfft…” broke the silence. I glanced subtly toward Miyuki-san’s side. Akira’s face was flushed, his lips trembling as he barely held back a burst of laughter.

“Akira, what’s up?” I asked, curious.

“N-nothing, it’s just…”

“Nothing? Your face is bright red.”

“I said it’s nothing…” he insisted, but it was obvious he was fighting back laughter. A happy accident, I suppose—our epic father-son fail had clearly hit Akira’s funny bone.

I was a bit embarrassed, but honestly, kind of happy. If this kept up, maybe Akira would start warming up to us bit by bit.

Of course, there’s always someone who can’t read the room—or just doesn’t bother. As I looked at Akira with a warm feeling, Dad opened his mouth again.

“M-Miyuki-san, this rice isn’t ours, is it? A different rice really makes a difference, huh?”

“That’s some leftover no-wash rice I brought from my place. It’s a bit old, though…” Miyuki-san replied, her tone still gentle.

“Guh…” Dad groaned, and I went pale once more.

Miyuki-san, why did you choose this guy? Is this sorry excuse for a dad really okay with you? Amid the awkward silence, only Akira’s stifled laughter lingered, a small spark of connection in the midst of our blunders.

＊　＊　＊

After dinner, we took turns heading to the bath. Dad and I usually just showered, but starting today, we’re apparently filling the tub properly. Soaking in a bath was something I only did at the public bathhouse, so it felt kind of nice.

“Ryouta-kun, the bath’s free,” Miyuki-san called out, poking her head into my room where I was lounging, flipping through manga.

“Alright, I’ll head in—” My words caught in my throat.

Miyuki-san stood there in a nightgown, her post-bath skin flushed and practically glowing through the thin fabric. Not knowing where to look, I dropped my gaze—only to land on her legs. Her full thighs shimmered with beauty oil, her toned knees and ankles seemed flawless, and her five toes were aligned with delicate precision, like fine craftsmanship. Those legs flipped a switch in my brain, yanking me from reason to instinct in an instant.

For a brief moment, I was locked in a staring contest with them.

“Um, Ryouta-kun, is something wrong? Is there something on my legs?”

“N-no, I’m heading in now…” I stammered, barely holding it together as I hurriedly gathered my things for the bath.

I mean, I’m a healthy high school boy, you know! I really wish Miyuki-san would be a bit more… mindful. Seriously.

To wash away the fleeting impure thoughts, I hurried to the bathroom. After confirming no one was inside, I opened the door to the changing area. Our bathroom’s changing area has a sink and a space for the washing machine—convenient for washing your face and doing laundry all in one spot.

I pulled off my T-shirt and was about to toss it into the laundry basket when my hand froze. There, inside the basket, was something delicate—probably something Miyuki-san had been wearing just moments ago. My mind raced. Did she intentionally tell me to go next? No, after spending half a day with her, it was clear Miyuki-san was just… oblivious.

Pretending not to notice, I tossed my T-shirt into the basket and slid off my shorts and underwear in one go—when someone appeared on the other side of the door.

—Knock knock…

No way—

“Sorry, it’s just me…”

It wasn’t who I expected—it was Akira’s voice.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I replied, “Come on in.”

“Sorry, I haven’t—” Akira peeked through the door and froze instantly.

“What’s up? Did you want to take a bath first?”

“Uh, uh, u-um, well…” Akira was trembling slightly, his face flickering between red and pale.

“I’ve already undressed, so you can go after—”

The next moment, the door slammed shut, and I heard the sound of frantic footsteps running away. I wasn’t sure what happened, but maybe he really wanted to go first.

I soaked in the tub for the first time in a while, gazing up at the ceiling where water droplets clung, shimmering faintly. The thought of living in this house as a family of four from now on felt oddly profound.

After that woman—my mother—left, it had just been me and Dad, scraping by. Now, we were starting fresh with a new family. Sure, more people might mean more problems, but if we respect and support each other, we could probably work through anything.

This kind of thinking was probably Dad’s job, but knowing him, he’s definitely not thinking this far ahead.

＊　＊　＊

After my bath, I changed and decided to brush my teeth. I grabbed my toothbrush from the four lined up, squeezed some toothpaste onto it—and then came a soft knock.

“…Y-you done already?” Akira’s voice came hesitantly through the door.

“Yeah, I’m done.”

“…You dressed?”

“Yup, fully clothed.”

The changing room door creaked open, and Akira cautiously peeked in, his eyes scanning me as if to confirm.

“You taking a bath next?”

“Y-yeah… I’ll, um, use it.”

“You don’t have to say ‘use it.’ This is your house now, too,” I reminded him.

His cheeks flushed, and he kept rubbing his elbow, looking uncomfortable. “Thanks… And, um, sorry about earlier…”

“For what?”

“Y’know, for… seeing stuff…” His face grew even redder, almost glowing.

“Oh, that? I don’t mind at all,” I said with a shrug.

“You don’t mind being seen like that!?”

“I mean, when it’s family, seeing each other naked isn’t a big deal, right?” I reasoned. Well, except in Miyuki-san’s case.

“That’s normal!?” Akira’s voice pitched higher, his eyes wide.

In a locker room or public bath, it’s just part of the deal. Between guys, it doesn’t matter much. But Akira’s got that whole distrust-of-men thing, so maybe he’s more sensitive to this stuff. “Still, I guess I messed up. I’ll be more careful next time,” I added, trying to ease his nerves.

“Y-yeah… That’d help. Thanks, Ryouta-kun…” he said, sounding overly formal.

“Oh, by the way, you can call me Aniki.”

“Aniki?”

“Yeah. Ryouta’s fine too, or Onii-chan or Onii-san, but I’d be happiest with Aniki.” The word ‘Aniki’—‘big brother’—had such a great ring to it.

“…Alright, Aniki it is”

“Sweet!” I grinned, feeling like we’d grown a bit closer. I started brushing my teeth, the bristles scrubbing away—when Akira spoke up again.

“…Um, Aniki, could you leave?”

“Pfft—huh?” I mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste. “I’m still brushing my teeth…”

“I want to take my bath…” he muttered, his voice insistent.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll finish up and head out—”

“J-just get out already!” he snapped, his face flushing again.

Halfway through brushing, I found myself kicked out of the bathroom, toothbrush still in hand.

With no other choice, I finished brushing my teeth on the living room sofa while waiting for Akira to finish his bath, but he was taking forever. In the end, I rinsed my mouth in the kitchen and headed back to my room.

It’s clear Akira’s really uncomfortable with showing or seeing skin, even with someone of the same gender. It’s a bit worrying. What’s going to happen on school trips or at hot springs? Will he react like this every time? Thinking about it, we can’t leave things like this. As he grows up, it’s only going to cause him trouble.

Looks like I’ll have to step up—literally. Maybe I’ll find a chance for us brothers to scrub each other’s backs. No telling how long it’ll take to get to that point, though…

With those thoughts swirling, I drifted off to sleep earlier than usual that night.

＊　＊　＊

—A memory stirred.

In it, a young, elementary-school me treaded quietly down a dark, cold hallway. Drawn to the voices seeping through the living room door, I peeked inside. There, Dad and that woman—my mother—sat across from each other at the table. Dad’s face was twisted with fury, while she sat silently, staring down.

Holding my breath, I strained to catch their words.

“He says he doesn’t want kids… So—”

“Ryouta is my son. Of course I’m taking him!” Dad’s voice cut through.

“But Ryouta—”

“Enough! If you want to leave, then go! And don’t ever come near Ryouta again! I’ll raise him myself… !”

That’s when I woke up.

That memory again… Even now, ten years later, it resurfaced with vivid clarity. It hadn’t turned into a tug-of-war or escalated into a bigger fight. I was just… “not wanted.” That moment must have left a scar, haunting my dreams like this.

Shaking off the gloom, I reached for my phone. Just past four in the morning—too early to get up. I decided to try going back to sleep.

My thoughts drifted to Akira. How had he processed Miyuki-san’s divorce? I hoped it hadn’t hurt him so deeply that it haunted his dreams, too…

As I closed my eyes again, the memory of the day I first met Akira flickered to life.

(Mendel’s laws don’t have any blood running through them, do they?)

Someday, maybe Akira would grasp the true weight behind those words.