Since her light novel had finally been published as a standalone volume and successfully hit the shelves today, Kotomi was in an excellent mood.
She celebrated by devouring half a pot of stewed beef, five plates of cheese-fried shrimp, and twenty bowls of rice.
Only after gulping down the last of her miso soup did she let out a satisfied sigh, as if she were finally full. After washing her hands, she patted her stomach and prepared to head back to her room to play games.
She also planned to pack her luggage. Although her trip to Kyoto wasn't until next Tuesday, she had a slight tendency to procrastinate and often put off planned tasks until the very last moment.
For example, at 1 PM, she would tell herself, I should start writing now. But there's plenty of time, so I'll play one match of CSGO first.
Then, without knowing how, one match turned into several, and before she realized it, it was already 6 PM. A quick glance at her Word document revealed zero words—no progress, not even a punctuation mark.
Feeling guilty, she would resolve to make up for it at night. But after dinner, her stomach would be full, she'd feel satisfied and sluggish, and she'd decide she had no energy to write. Instead, she'd lie in bed and play games until late at night. Then, just before turning off the lights, she'd get the nagging feeling she had forgotten to do something, but she'd be too lazy to remember what it was and simply sleep until morning.
Reflecting on her habits, Kotomi decided it was time for a change—she couldn't let procrastination hold her back!
As soon as she got back to her room, she would pack her suitcase immediately!
Kotomi was determined.
Aimi followed her upstairs. Initially, Kotomi assumed she was just heading to her own room and paid no attention. However, she was suddenly hit from behind by a soft impact...
At first, Kotomi innocently thought Aimi had hugged her gently, wanting to express her reluctance to part with her beautiful, graceful, elegant, and kind older sister. Perhaps Aimi was feeling sentimental about Kotomi leaving for Kyoto for three days and wanted to cuddle a little.
But reality was different—Kotomi had the distinct feeling that something was pressing firmly against her back.
"Aimi..." Kotomi asked nervously, feeling the pressure against her spine. "Um... you didn't just go to the kitchen, did you? You didn't grab a knife, right?"
"If I had a knife in my hand, I would've stabbed you already."
Aimi had one arm wrapped tightly around Kotomi's waist while using her other elbow to press firmly against Kotomi's back, as if preventing her from escaping. Her voice dropped several notches, taking on an icy tone, as if she didn't care at all.
But in reality, she cared very much.
"I just have a few questions for you, dear sister. You love me so much, surely you wouldn't refuse to answer, right?"
Kotomi wanted to make a run for it, but she knew that if she ran now and Aimi caught her again later, the thing pressed against her back wouldn't be an elbow—it would be a real cleaver.
"Bring it on! There's nothing to be afraid of anymore!" Kotomi shouted, as if trying to cast a courage buff on herself.
Though, there might be a side effect to this buff... possibly some ominous foreshadowing.
A certain magical girl named Mami Tomoe had once said something similar before—no, Kotomi decided she wasn't going to think about that.
She had no idea where Aimi's sudden burst of emotion came from or what she wanted to ask.
Aimi had always been smart—trying to brush her off wouldn't work. As Kotomi racked her brain for a way to handle the situation, Aimi suddenly stood on tiptoe, peeked out from under Kotomi's arm, and, with flushed cheeks, demanded:
"Onee-chan, tell me honestly—are you and Iroha just normal friends?"
Aimi's soft, fair cheek pressed tightly against Kotomi's face, her tiny tiger teeth bared like a little cub trying to look fierce. Unfortunately, her mouth was too small to swallow anyone whole, but her bites were painful—something Kotomi had experienced firsthand. The smooth touch of her sister's skin distorted Kotomi's face slightly from the pressure.
Luckily, they were at home. If they were outside, Kotomi would have definitely cared about maintaining her image. She would've immediately pulled Aimi forward into a princess carry, holding her tightly in her arms to make this little tiger behave.
However, Aimi's question truly caught Kotomi off guard.
She had expected Aimi to ask about the answer she had given that night and had even prepared herself mentally to confess it. But she hadn't expected Aimi to ask about Iroha instead.
Or rather, about her and Iroha...
Kotomi thought to herself, suddenly feeling that this was a tricky question. She had no idea how to respond.
Oh, my foolish little sister... Do you really think I'd tell you that Iroha and I took a bunch of photos together in Enoshima, visited the observation lighthouse, went to Lovers' Hill, rang the Dragon's Bell of Love, and then climbed the tower at night to admire the breathtaking view?
No, I won't say a word!
And it's not because I'm scared to say it!
Clearing her throat, Kotomi answered, "Ahem, you're overthinking it. Iroha and I are just normal friends. She's your best friend, after all. As your older sister, I naturally want to have a good relationship with her, so we can look out for each other."
"Really?"
Aimi paused, narrowing her eyes at Kotomi as if she were interrogating a criminal with an unforgivable crime. She had always considered herself highly perceptive and was certain she could spot any suspicious clues.
"Of course!" Kotomi declared. "My little sister is so cute and beautiful—what older sister wouldn't treasure her like a delicate gem?"
"You're growing up now, entering your teenage years. There are probably things you'd rather share with friends than with family, and I understand that. I was your age once, too."
"Since you're too shy to say certain things directly, isn't it only natural that I learn about them from your friends instead?"
"And why? Because, to me, no one in the world can compare to you. You're my most important, irreplaceable little sister!"
Kotomi's words were heartfelt, each sentence striking an emotional chord. After all, she had initially exchanged contact info with Iroha for the sole purpose of learning whether Aimi had any worries she wasn't comfortable sharing at home.
Hearing this, Aimi felt a surge of happiness, a sweet warmth spreading through her heart. Her legs went weak, and for a moment, she felt as if she could float right into the air.
Just moments ago, she had been fierce like a little tiger, but now, she was melting with joy. Her frustration disappeared, and her confidence deflated entirely. Blushing, she averted her gaze to avoid Kotomi's eyes. Pressing her warm cheek against Kotomi's back, she nodded shyly, her voice soft and sweet like candy:
"Sis... I'm sorry for misunderstanding you and Iroha. But really, how could I ever keep secrets from you? Even if I don't say something right away, if you ever noticed and insisted on asking, I would definitely tell you everything without hiding a single word."
Perhaps it was Kotomi's words that had done the trick—Aimi was suddenly acting obedient and docile.
This moment filled Kotomi with nostalgia. When Aimi was little, she had always followed her around just like this, clinging to her every step.
Any older sister who has cared for a younger sibling knows the unique sense of accomplishment that comes with it. Kotomi was no exception.
Every time, Kotomi wanted to act as the gentle yet dignified older sister in front of Aimi, confidently telling her: "Leave everything to me!"
The moment she said those words, she felt as if there was nothing in the world she couldn't do.
And then... she would inevitably mess things up due to her clumsiness, leading to Aimi being the one who had to take care of her instead.
The two of them had taken longer than most to wean off formula. Even when they were in preschool, they were still drinking it. One day, while they were home alone and feeling hungry, little Kotomi enthusiastically volunteered to make milk for little Aimi.
Brimming with confidence, she grabbed the can of formula. But because the lid was too tightly sealed, she had to strain with all her might, turning red in the face before finally prying it open—only to end up covered in formula powder. If she had added just a little more, she would have looked like a geisha straight out of a TV drama.
Since she hadn't yet learned to use a spoon, little Kotomi decided to pour the formula directly from the can into the bottles. Predictably, she spilled some on the floor. After much effort, she finally managed to fill both bottles and, with nervous determination, went to pick up the warm water kettle.
But, as expected, hunger had drained her energy. The moment she lifted the kettle, her grip slipped, and it crashed onto her toes.
She wasn't injured, but the pain was excruciating—especially in that delayed moment a second or two after impact. The shock made little Kotomi wail loudly.
In the end, it was little Aimi who calmly picked up the kettle, expertly mixed the formula into Kotomi's bottle first, and then scooped up her sobbing sister, cradling her like a baby as she gently fed her the milk.
Once her stomach was full, Kotomi stopped crying.
Aimi then cleaned up the spilled formula, wiped the floor dry, and, after a long stretch of tidying up, finally sat down to make her own bottle of milk. She chugged it down in one go.
Originally, Kotomi had wanted to reminisce about her childhood and bask in the happiness of being an older sister who took care of Aimi. But after recalling these memories, she realized something shocking.
From the very beginning, it had always been Aimi taking care of her.
So... who was really the older sister here?!
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