(Reui's Perspective — Street 260, Convenience Store, 4:25 PM)
The sun was already dipping low, painting the street in that late-afternoon orange glow that made everything feel softer than it should.
I walked past rows of vending machines and school kids in groups, their laughter echoing across the pavement. My phone buzzed again — a map pin from Aizi. She really was at the convenience store.
While I was looking down at my phone, I caught a glimpse of someone approaching from the corner of my eye.
When I turned, I saw her—my sister, Aizi.
"Oh, you're already here," I said, slipping my phone into my pocket.
But something felt… off. Normally, she'd be shouting at me for making her wait—maybe even throwing a jab or two about how slow I am.
This time, though, she was quiet. Too quiet.
"Yeah, yeah, let's go," she said, already starting to walk ahead. Her voice was low, unenergetic—completely unlike her usual sharp tone.
But honestly? It felt… kind of nice. Peaceful, even. No bickering, no sarcastic remarks. Just quiet. For once, I could walk beside her without feeling like I was about to get nagged into oblivion.
We walked together in silence—no banter, no teasing, no sarcastic jabs. Just the steady rhythm of our footsteps echoing softly against the pavement, leading us home. It was strange… but kind of comforting.
But then, out of nowhere, she slipped her arm around mine, holding on tight. Her grip was warm—almost too warm—and for a second, I froze, caught completely off guard.
"A-Aizi?" I muttered, glancing down at her.
"Shut up. Just walk," she cut me off sharply, her tone soft but firm—like she wasn't giving me a choice.
Her face was calm, but I could feel it—the tension in her grip, the quiet intensity in the way she clung to me.
We walked together, arm in arm. It wasn't something usual—actually, it was rare. Really rare. Normally, we'd argue or she'd walk a few steps ahead just to annoy me. But now… this?
It felt strange. Quiet. Peaceful, even. Her arm clung to mine like she didn't want to let go, and for some reason, I didn't try to pull away either.
"Are you… dating someone, brother?"
The question came out of nowhere, slicing through the comfortable silence like a knife.
I blinked, glancing down at her. Her voice sounded calm—too calm—but her grip on my arm tightened just a little, like she was holding her breath for my answer.
"N-no, where'd you even get that idea…" I stammered, my voice cracking a little as I tried to laugh it off. "I'm too busy as it is, so… I can't really have a girlfriend."
I could feel how awkward that sounded—too defensive, too nervous. It's not like I was lying or anything. I mean… I'm not dating Aranami.
Right?
"Is that so…" she murmured, her tone flat—too flat.
We didn't say anything after that. Just the sound of our footsteps echoing down the quiet street as the sun dipped lower, painting everything orange.
Before long, we reached the front door. She let go of my arm, slow and reluctant, her fingers trailing for just a moment before slipping away.
"Mommmm! I'm homeee!" she shouted, her voice suddenly bursting with energy as she ran ahead to the door.
The sudden shift caught me off guard—just seconds ago, she was quiet, almost gloomy. Now, it's like she flipped a switch, her usual bratty self snapping right back into place as she swung the door open with a grin.
Our aunt—well, mom, as we call her—was already standing by the doorway, greeting us with that familiar, gentle smile. Her hair was still tied up from work, and the faint smell of coffee clung to her clothes.
"Welcome home, you two," she said warmly, her eyes soft as they shifted between me and Aizi. For a second, the tension from earlier just… faded.
We settled around the dining table, and—thank god—there was food waiting. The smell hit me instantly, warm and rich, wrapping the whole room in that cozy, home kind of vibe.
Rice, grilled pork, soup—nothing fancy, but damn, after today, it might as well have been a five-star meal. My stomach growled so loud Aizi gave me a side-eye, but I didn't even care.
After cooking for myself and for Aizi for days, it actually felt nice to sit down and eat without touching the stove for once. No frying pan, no spatula, no smoke alarm threatening to go off—just food, already made, waiting for me. God, that felt like a luxury.
"Ohh, you two—have you washed your hands, sweethearts?" our aunt called out, her voice warm and motherly as she set a plate on the table. The way she said it made the whole place feel… homey. Like all the stress from school and everything else just melted away for a moment.
"No— not yet, Mom. I'll go now," I said, pushing my chair back and standing up.
But before I could even take a step, Aizi darted past me, nearly bumping into my arm.
"I'll go first!" she declared, already halfway to the sink, her tone way too smug for something as simple as washing hands.
I just sighed, shaking my head with a faint smile. Some things never change.I waited for her to finish at the sink, but for some reason, she was taking forever—like she was scrubbing each finger one by one just to waste time.
With a quiet sigh, I decided not to bother waiting. "Whatever," I muttered under my breath, turning away and heading down the hall.
I made my way to the bathroom instead, figuring I could just wash my hands there. The sound of running water still echoed faintly from the kitchen, followed by Aizi humming—soft, off-key, but strangely eerie in how calm it sounded.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, drying my hands on a towel, I nearly bumped into her. She was just finishing up too, flicking off the water and shaking her hands dry.
Our eyes met for a brief second—then she looked away, her lips pressing into a faint pout.
"...Tsk."
It was quiet, almost under her breath, but I caught it. A small click of her tongue, sharp enough to sting even though I didn't know why.
I blinked, confused. "What's with her?" I muttered softly, watching as she brushed past me, her hair swaying with each annoyed step toward the dining table.
No clue what I did this time… but knowing Aizi, it could've been anything.
"There, all set up," I muttered, settling into my seat. The aroma of the food filled the air, warm and rich—it was the kind of smell that could make you forget every bad day in an instant.
"All I need to do now…" I grinned, picking up my spoon and fork, "…is take some food and head straight to heaven."
"Alright, let's eat now!" our mom said cheerfully, and we all clasped our hands in thanks before digging in.
The moment I took the first bite, I swear I could've cried—it had been so long since I'd eaten a proper home-cooked meal. I devoured each spoonful, savoring every bit of flavor like it was the best thing on earth.
But as I reached for another bite, I noticed something.
Across the table, Aizi wasn't eating. She was just… staring. Her eyes locked onto me, unblinking, like she was studying every move I made.
I froze mid-bite.
"…What?" I asked, half-smiling, half-weirded out.
She didn't answer. Just smiled faintly—and kept staring.
"I'm just zoned out. Don't be a freak—just eat your food," she said coldly, her voice sharp enough to cut the air between us.
I blinked, a bit thrown off. Zoned out? Yeah right. She's the one staring holes through me like some kind of weirdo.
Still, I decided to let it go. Whatever mood she's in, I'm not getting dragged into it. So I just shrugged, picked up my spoon again, and focused back on what really mattered—food.
I suddenly choked, coughing hard from stuffing too much food in my mouth. My hand shot out for the glass of water—only for Aizi to grab it first.
"H-hey—" I wheezed, reaching toward her, but she just stared at me with that unreadable expression, holding the glass just out of reach.
She suddenly lifted the glass and drank it all—every last drop—without even looking at me.
"Oh, you were choking, brother?" she said, feigning surprise, her tone dripping with false innocence. "You should've said something."
She stood up slowly, brushing her hair aside with that smug little smile. "Alright, I'll get you one," she added, her voice sweet but teasing, as she reached for another glass like nothing had happened.
I stared at her, still catching my breath, wondering what the hell that was supposed to be.
She walked over to the sink, humming softly as she filled the glass with water. When she came back, she handed it to me with a strangely gentle smile—too gentle for her usual self.
I didn't question it. I was too busy trying to breathe again, my throat still burning from choking.
"Here" she said softly, watching me as I took the glass. "Careful next time, okay?"
I nodded weakly and took a sip. Maybe she was just in a good mood today… or maybe I was too dizzy to notice how off her smile really looked. "thank you..?"
We continued eating together, chatting idly with Mom about school, teachers, and random stuff that didn't really matter—but somehow felt comforting. It was just the usual family dinner scene: laughter, clinking utensils, the smell of food filling the room.
For a moment, everything felt normal. Like the weird tension earlier didn't exist. Like we were just… a regular family again.
But every time I looked up, I'd catch Aizi watching me from across the table—smiling faintly, eyes sharp yet soft. It was hard to tell if it was affection… or something else entirely.
Then we finished eating, and I leaned back in my chair, satisfied. Two great meals in one day—lunch with Aranami, dinner with Mom's cooking. Honestly, not bad at all. For once, life felt… calm.
But that calm didn't last long.
There was this weird heaviness in the air, like something was quietly waiting to happen. I couldn't tell if it was just my imagination—or the way Aizi kept glancing at me with that same unreadable look in her eyes.
Yeah… something about tonight felt off. But I pushed the feelings back.
"I'll head upstairs now, Mom. I still have some schoolwork to finish," I said, pushing back my chair.
"Okay, goodnight, sweetie," she replied warmly, already gathering the dishes from the table.
I gave her a small smile before heading upstairs. The house felt quiet—too quiet—as I climbed the steps. When I finally reached my room, I closed the door behind me with a soft click and let out a long sigh.
Finally, some peace.
But then, just as I was about to reach for my phone, I heard the soft creak of my door handle turning.
The sound was slow—deliberate—like whoever was on the other side was trying not to make a noise but still wanted me to notice.
The door opened halfway, light from the hallway spilling into my dim room. I froze, my hand still hovering over my phone.
"Aizi…?" I called out softly, unsure if I even wanted a reply.