Niragi wasn't happy when he heard the news for the first time, and he couldn't stop feeling tense from the start. Even now, at the dinner table as you all sit together, he can't force a pleased expression or add anything to the conversation. He feels helpless, but not like it's anything new for a pathetic guy such as him.

He knows he shouldn't blame his parents, but he still thinks that it's all extremely unfair. Their only child, him, already suffers from day to day in this world that gives him nothing but the thought that he already died and got in hell.

And yet they decided to adopt another. Was it a sentimental decision of his mother that always wanted a second child but wasn't in the right state and age to get pregnant again? In truth, Niragi never got too close to his parents. It's almost as if they were absent and only present as some kind of variable that simply can't disappear yet also doesn't play any significant role. They were just there, doing what they had to do—their robotic routine. Mother made food and took care of the house, and father worked himself to the bone on a static office job. They didn't know what was happening to his son, and it was as if they didn't even try to ask why there were sometimes drops of blood on the floor when he returned, why his items break so often, or not even why he talks so little.

And they really think they can take care of you. Niragi was on the verge of fully accepting the theory that they did it for extra money. All people are greedy, aren't they? That's what he learnt. Everyone is selfish. Everyone is evil at heart. He is certain that you are not an exception. He lost his faith in humanity. Especially teenagers.

"That's...the room." He says dryly once you enter his bedroom—now, yours too—with your bags. He doesn't try to help you with unpacking and doesn't start with all the welcoming bullshit. The whole left hours he just glares at you occasionally, practically pouting while doing so. Any attempt at conversation ends up dry and awkward, and Niragi purposefully tries to end them as soon as possible.

It will be a rough day tomorrow. And most likely all the days ahead of you, if nothing eases the tension between you and your dear brother.

"Just go to sleep already. You need to get ready for school." Niragi snaps, despite the fact that it was still early enough to chat more. Maybe he was simply in a bad mood, you may think.

Spoilers—he's always in a bad mood.

In the morning, you find out that you're running late. There's only ten minutes to do everything and Niragi—

His bed is empty and his bag—dirty and damaged in a few places—is also prepared. He didn't attempt to wake you up, and not because he forgot. You know it once you see his usually blank, sad eyes now sparkling with hint of...glee?

"You're running late?" You hear the voice of the mother from the kitchen. Niragi, meanwhile, leaned against the wall in the hallway, arms crossed. For the first time in his miserable life, he feels as if tables have turned.

"How irresponsible," he mutters, smug yet also strangely sharp—not in the carefree way even the worst of the bullies do.