The delivery arrived just as Tatsuya stepped through the front door. While the sender's name meant nothing to him, Miyuki seemed to have a very clear idea of who was behind it.
"From Ishikawa? Ah, Airi and the others."
"Onii-sama," Miyuki began, her voice cool but pointed. "You haven't seen the Ichishi girls since the incident in Yokohama, have you?"
"I haven't. What of it?"
Miyuki knew perfectly well that he hadn't seen them since the Thesis Competition, yet she asked anyway. Tatsuya couldn't help but offer a puzzled look in return.
"A moment of your time, if I may?"
"Butler Hayama... You've been watching us for a while now, haven't you?" Tatsuya turned toward the elder man. "Is there something you need? Or rather, is it quite alright for you to leave my Aunt's side?"
"For today only, Lady Maya has requested to be treated not as the Head of the Yotsuba, but simply as a woman. Surely, Lord Tatsuya, you understand the implications of the date?"
"…Right. It is that time of year again. Still, even for her, this seems like an excessive amount of luggage…"
Tatsuya tilted his head, eyeing the mountain of packages Hayama had brought. It was hard to imagine Maya preparing a gift of such sheer volume, nor was it like her to send multiple items.
"The truth is..." Hayama lowered his voice slightly. "Lady Yuuka of the Tsukuba family, Lady Ayako of the Kuroba family, and even the maidstaff caught wind that I was heading to your residence, Lord Tatsuya."
"They used you as a courier?" Miyuki cut in, unable to remain silent any longer. Her voice betrayed her shock. "You, the Head Butler of the Yotsuba?"
"As I said, Lady Miyuki—on this day, even I am no match for the whims of women."
"I see..."
Tatsuya's popularity within the Yotsuba Clan was a complicated thing. While he was often scorned or looked down upon by the heads of the branch families and the male retainers, he possessed a fervent, almost silent following among the female staff.
Both Tatsuya and Miyuki were aware that girls like Yuuka and Ayako held him in high regard, even if they didn't know the full extent of his true power. However, neither of them had expected a deluge of chocolate on this scale.
"And with that, I have fulfilled my delivery," Hayama said.
"Thank you for the trouble. Please give my regards to my Aunt."
"Ho ho. Lady Maya will be delighted simply to hear that you accepted them."
With a refined bow, Hayama vanished. Despite the "special" nature of the day, he was a professional; he would never allow a clumsy slip-up that let outsiders glimpse the connection between Tatsuya and the Yotsuba.
"What am I supposed to do with all of this...?" Tatsuya muttered to the empty hall.
After Tatsuya managed to haul the haul inside, Miyuki promptly snatched—or rather, confiscated—every last box. Using a combination of the refrigerator and her own cooling magic, she sealed them away in frozen storage.
"Onii-sama, I must prepare dinner. Please wait in your room for a while."
"Right. I understand."
In previous years, the gifts had been limited to Maya, Ayako, and Yuuka. Tatsuya had been bracing for a sharp reaction from Miyuki given the increased volume, but she seemed surprisingly composed—confiscation aside. He felt a wave of relief wash over him.
Still, why so many? I haven't even done much for half the people on those labels.
If any other teenage boy had been present to hear that thought, they likely would have swung at him in a fit of jealous rage—regardless of the fact that Tatsuya would have neutralized them in seconds. His density regarding romantic intent was nothing short of legendary. Even accounting for the fact that his mother had stripped away most of his emotions, his obliviousness was an anomaly. After all, he had recently eaten chocolate from Mayumi Saegusa—which was quite clearly a "true feeling" gift—right in front of her without a second thought.
No use dwelling on it. I might as well run a diagnostic on my CADs.
Tatsuya never allowed himself to be shackled by unproductive thoughts. Whether that was a virtue was up for debate, but his ability to switch gears was one of his greatest strengths.
He lost himself in the delicate calibrations of his Casting Assistant Device until Miyuki called him via the internal intercom to announce that dinner was ready. Usually, she would come to his door personally. The change in routine piqued his curiosity, but he didn't pry as he made his way to the living room.
"I see. So that's how it is..."
Even through the closed door, a rich, unmistakable aroma tickled his nose.
"Onii-sama, dinner is served. Please, come in."
"Miyuki... what is that outfit?"
"This? It is simply the proper attire for serving a meal."
Miyuki stood there dressed in a full maid's uniform. While the time and place were debatable, it was technically "appropriate" for the role she was playing. Tatsuya felt a faint wave of vertigo and took a half-step back.
"Please, have a seat."
"Chocolate sauce?" Tatsuya noted, looking at the spread.
"Today is a special occasion, after all."
It was a calculated strategy—a way to ensure her own chocolate was the most vivid, undeniable presence in his mind. It was a bold move that only Miyuki could pull off. Tatsuya moved past exasperation and felt a genuine, silent sense of admiration for her dedication.
"...Miyuki? Are you alright?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
Halfway through the dessert—a chocolate fondue—Tatsuya noticed Miyuki's face was flushed a deep crimson. The brandy in the sauce likely hadn't simmered off completely. Even though she had only eaten a small amount, her tolerance was clearly low.
"Ah—!"
"Miyuki, you should rest for the night."
She nearly tumbled from her chair, but Tatsuya was there in an instant to steady her. His touch only made her blush a more intense shade of red.
"I am so sorry, Onii-sama..."
"Don't worry about it. I'll handle the cleanup."
When her brother spoke with that tone of command, Miyuki had no choice but to obey. Indeed, the idea of refusing an order from Tatsuya was fundamentally impossible for her.
She retreated toward her room with slow but steady steps. Once inside, she turned to the full-length mirror, shocked by the reflection of her own burning face.
"Why..." she whispered to the empty room. "Why must I only be his sister?"
She shook her head violently as if to physically cast the thought aside. The sudden movement only made the alcohol swirl faster in her system, but her heart was racing for a different reason entirely. She was panicked—not by the booze, but by the fact that she had even for a second lamented the very thing that gave her the strongest bond to him.
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