"Onee-san is so good!"
"Oh? Now you remember to call me Onee-san?"
With a faint blush brushing her porcelain cheeks, her glossy lips glimmering faintly, and those wine-red eyes glinting with a teasing charm, Kasumigaoka Utaha adjusted the wrinkles on her chest and shot a knowing smirk at Kasumigaoka Touji.
"What do you mean? Haven't I always called you that, Onee-san?" Touji replied without batting an eye, voice full of faux innocence.
"Ugh, spare me the act!"
With a swift kick—more like a tap—Utaha nudged his knee, clearly unimpressed.
"Otouto-kun, doesn't it hurt your conscience to lie so blatantly?"
"Well, you see... the conscience isn't something that hurts just from a little white lie."
"Oh? Then yours must be made of steel."
"And yours must be marshmallow."
"Pervert. I'm calling the cops."
"Oi! That's unfair discrimination against innocent younger brothers!"
"Biased? Of course I am. Biased rights belong to women, didn't you know that?"
"What sort of twisted rule is that!?"
The playful back-and-forth continued until Utaha stood up from her chair, stretching with a small yawn. She walked to the window, pulled the curtain aside with a graceful flick, and gazed out at the gentle afternoon light, blinking slowly to relax her strained eyes.
"Let's go out for a walk," she suggested.
Touji tilted his head. "Hmm? Now?"
"Yeah, I feel like I've been glued to my desk for two days straight. A little fresh air won't kill me."
"Fair enough."
"Just around the neighborhood. Don't get your hopes up for a date or anything, okay?"
"Who said anything about that? Tch..."
It was now around three in the afternoon.
The skies were a clear pastel blue, and the warm spring sun filtered softly through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the quiet sidewalk. A gentle breeze brushed past, rustling the leaves with a sound that made everything feel just a bit more alive. It was the perfect weather for a leisurely stroll.
"Hey! Be careful with that box! Don't you dare scratch it! Treat it like your life depends on it!"
"Y-Yes, ma'am!"
The voice, shrill and commanding, came from a girl not much taller than an elementary student. Dressed in an elaborate red-and-white Lolita dress adorned with frills and ribbons, she stood with hands on her hips like a tiny general. Her white stockings and polished red shoes completed the picture of someone who had walked out of an anime convention.
Touji blinked in surprise. His gaze caught the glint of sunlight on her platinum-blonde hair—and the unmistakable, pointy shape of ears peeking through it.
"Wait... are those elf ears?" he whispered.
Curious, he approached. "Hey, are you a new neighbor?"
"Hmph! That's right!"
The girl puffed out her flat chest with an air of self-importance and brandished a business card. "This lady is known as Yamada Elf—a bestselling novelist whose work is currently being adapted into anime! Feel free to be amazed!"
Touji blinked again. "Anime... adaptation!?"
The words triggered Utaha instantly.
"Wait, wait, wait. Did you just say anime adaptation?" she asked, stepping closer, disbelief clear in her eyes.
Her gaze scanned the girl from head to toe—taking in the frilly dress, the childish fashion, and the strange aura of theatrical arrogance.
A child? A novelist?
Even more shocking: Yamada Elf. The name rang a bell. Utaha had always assumed that the author of Explosive Flame Dark Elf Chronicles would be a middle-aged, sweaty otaku with a questionable sense of hygiene.
Never did she imagine the creator would be... well, this.
Seeing Utaha's reaction, Yamada Elf smirked proudly. "Heh. Surprised? This is what true genius looks like."
"So it's Yamada-Sensei."
Kasumigaoka Touji took the business card and gave it a cursory glance. Polite but reserved. He and Kasumigaoka Utaha both had business cards of their own, but neither had brought them out—naturally, they weren't the type to carry such things when just out for a casual walk.
"I'm Kasumigaoka Touji. We live nearby. And this is Kasumigaoka Utaha," he introduced with his usual calm demeanor. "Our house is the orange one just across from the Izumi family's place."
"Ohh, so close!" Yamada Elf turned her head to glance in the direction Touji pointed, then puffed up her chest and planted her hands on her hips with a confident grin. "Are you siblings?"
Without missing a beat, she added with a mischievous glint in her eye, "You just called me 'Yamada-Sensei'… could it be you're my servant now?"
Touji blinked, caught off guard by the sudden chuunibyou-style declaration.
"We're older sister and younger brother… temporarily," Utaha chimed in smoothly, glancing at Touji meaningfully.
Beep beep beep—!
Touji instantly recognized the signal in her eyes.
It was the look that said: "Hurry up and confess already, baka."
Of course, the plan for confession was already prepared, the timing set and refined down to the minute. But to do it now, right in front of a random third party—especially one like this—would ruin the mood entirely. The surprise element would be dead on arrival.
So, he skillfully deflected.
"Servant? Are you talking about fans or something?"
He sized up Yamada Elf. Definitely a chuunibyou tsundere. The kind that called her fans 'loyal minions' or something even more embarrassing.
While he understood the importance of social grace, Kasumigaoka Touji also wasn't about to let himself get swept into someone else's delusion.
"Sorry, I'm not a servant. I did buy the first volume of Explosive Flame Dark Elf, but I didn't keep reading."
"Gulp…! Wh-what did you just say!?"
It was like he'd shot her straight through the heart.
Clutching her chest, Yamada Elf staggered back a step, her aura visibly dimming.
"You're asking why?" Touji tilted his head, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Well, for one, the storytelling didn't really hook me."
Yamada Elf visibly twitched.
"And the part where the heroine stripped immediately upon her debut scene… that felt like a cheap gag. Too much fanservice, not enough build-up."
He paused there, noticing how wide her eyes had gotten. She looked like she was about to cry, punch him, or both. Maybe he'd gone too far.
After all, she was their new neighbor. There was no reason to start a literary war on the first meeting.
But it was too late.
"Ughhh ahhhhhh—!"
Yamada Elf let out a beast-like screech and dramatically dropped to one knee as if physically wounded by his words.
With trembling hands and flushed cheeks, she pointed at Touji, half in anger and half in disbelief.
"You… you just don't get it, do you?! That was clearly a moe moment!"
She puffed up with wounded pride.
"It's the ultimate ero-moe crossover scene! My fans loved it! They said it was revolutionary!"
"Ero and moe don't go together," Touji deadpanned, shaking his head.
You could have something ecchi, sure. You could have something cute. But together? That wasn't moe—it was confusion.
"In any case, it's just not my thing."
He spread his hands in a gesture of helpless honesty.
"D-damn you—!" Yamada Elf growled.
Kasumigaoka Utaha, standing off to the side, smirked faintly, clearly entertained.
...