One day in early September, Izumi Masamune was cooking lunch in the kitchen when he heard footsteps from above.
He assumed Sagiri was trying to hurry him along and called up with a helpless smile, "Hold on, almost done."
Saying that, he picked up the preheated frying pan and cracked an egg into it with one hand.
The egg hit the pan and immediately sizzled with a sharp crackle-pop.
Once one side was cooked enough, Masamune flipped it over.
Because Sagiri liked her eggs fried on both sides, he was extra gentle, afraid he'd break the yolk and spill it.
If that happened, the only destinations for that egg were the trash bin or his own stomach.
He'd eaten so many failed fried eggs recently that the sight of them made him queasy.
"Phew, not bad."
Fortunately, the egg was only slightly overcooked and the yolk intact — overall, a success.
Whether a fried egg was "acceptable" depended solely on whether Sagiri would eat it.
If she ate it, it passed.
Plating the egg, he added sliced tomato and lettuce, topped it with salad dressing and a dash of salt.
A simple lunch was ready.
Of course, it could be lunch, breakfast, or even dinner.
Sagiri ate this same meal three times a day.
Masamune really couldn't understand how anyone liked something with so little flavor — just a bit of salt.
But hey — it's what his little sister liked.
"Same as always — lunch that looks like breakfast."
Putting everything on a tray, Masamune headed to his sister's room.
Through the nearly empty first floor, up the stairs.
Each creaking step announced to Sagiri that her meal was coming.
For just two kids, this two-story house was far too big.
"Sagiri, I brought your lunch."
He stopped outside a door with a heart-shaped name plate labeled "Sagiri" in beautiful script, raising his hand to knock.
He already knew she wouldn't open the door.
His sister was a shut-in who almost never left her room.
But this time, just as his knuckles were about to touch the door, it swung open from inside.
"Sagiri!"
Masamune was pleasantly surprised.
He hadn't expected her to actually open the door.
The last time he'd seen Sagiri was… well, the day she first came to live with them.
It had been early March.
Despite the generally warm weather, that day was freezing. The whole sky was a blanket of white.
The tiny, adorably shy Sagiri had hidden behind their mother, her head low, peeking out at him bashfully.
Oh right… She still had her father back then, too.
"From today onward, she's your sister," their parents had said.
"Please take good care of her."
Masamune smiled and agreed, "Of course."
Under their mother's encouragement, Sagiri had timidly stepped forward, face flushed, and whispered, "Nice to meet you… Onii-chan."
And after that?
They hadn't seen each other since.
Once she was in the house, if anyone else was home — even her own brother — she never left her room.
A shut-in with such strong willpower must be pretty rare.
"Are you planning to go out?" Izumi Masamune asked immediately when he noticed that Sagiri was no longer wearing her usual pink pajamas he washed for her every day, but instead had on a hoodie and sweatpants.
"Mm."
Sagiri nodded slightly with a soft "mm!"
Her voice was so quiet that Masamune couldn't really hear, but he could tell from her lips.
"Where are you going?" Masamune continued.
Sagiri didn't reply and just lowered her head.
After silently waiting for a minute, Masamune chose not to press further and instead asked, "Do you want me to go with you?"
"N-No, it's okay."
Sagiri stammered her reply and ran past Masamune.
'Hope Mom and Dad come home soon.'
Watching Sagiri run off, Masamune couldn't help but think — even if it felt a bit selfish — that he wished their parents would cut their honeymoon short.
When he went back downstairs, Sagiri had already left the house.
'This is probably the first time she's gone out.'
Thinking that, the big brother in Masamune started to worry.
He put down the tray, put on his shoes, and quickly followed her.
Since Sagiri was a shut-in, she had very little stamina. Masamune caught up with her in no time and began silently tailing her.
…
In a quiet park rarely visited by people, Sagiri hugged her phone. Her body trembled with nervousness, and she glanced around every few seconds.
After confirming no one was nearby, she finally relaxed a bit.
She opened the group chat.
Eromanga: [@Little Kei, I'm here.]
Komachi: [Whoa! An online friend meeting IRL — live!]
Nao: [Is this for real?!]
Even though she had known "Little Kei" online for quite a while, the internet was still the internet.
Who knows if the person behind that anime girl profile picture — the one who types with emoji and says "uwu" all the time — is just some greasy old dude scratching his foot?
Sagiri stayed cautious for her meeting with "Little Kei."
Instead of DMing her, she posted in the group chat.
That way, if something happened, maybe someone would call the police.
Why not tell her brother?
She just couldn't.
How was she supposed to explain?
Say, "Hey, I drew a doujin of a big-name celebrity, and now I might face criminal charges. Can you go apologize for me and sort it out?"
Even if her brother agreed, would the celebrity accept such a half-hearted apology?
Little Kei: [@Eromanga, give me two minutes.]
Eromanga: [Okay.]
While waiting, Sagiri lowered her head and chatted with the group.
It was going well — until "Little Tongtong" showed up and ruined it.
Little Tongtong: [Wow, as expected from an erotic manga artist. So, what pose do you want Little Kei to teach you in?]
Little Tongtong: [@Little Kei, don't forget to snap a pic after giving the ero manga teacher ahegao!]
Just one more person making pervy jokes and then...
Yosuga no Sora: [@Eromanga, promise me, don't eat spicy hot pot!]
Little Tongtong: [@Eromanga, @Little Kei, start a livestream when it happens — I'll send rockets!]
'What the hell are these two even saying!' Sagiri was a little pissed.
She stomped on the ground, just like when she got mad at home.
"Eromanga-sensei?"
Sagiri was about to type when a shadow suddenly loomed over her.
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