That night, city lights reflected faintly on the apartment window, and Jisung stood behind the curtain, staring blankly outside while gripping his silent phone. The dark screen offered no answers, only the reflection of his restless face. Behind him, the soft laughter he knew so well echoed through the room. It came from the figure sitting cross-legged on the floor, applying lip balm while holding a small mirror. She asked, "Jisung, do my lips look pale?" Jisung walked over, chuckling lightly, teasing her and saying she looked like a clown. She pouted and threw a pillow at him. But inside, Jisung froze, holding back a feeling he could never share with anyone.

He knew that this feeling wasn't supposed to exist. He knew exactly who he was. The little brother. Just the younger brother. Two years apart. Always the one she came to when she needed to vent, the shoulder to lean on, the body that would stand in front of her if anyone dared to hurt her.

But ever since they were little, since the first time they slept side by side during a blackout, since she hugged him tightly, afraid of the thunder, something inside Jisung had grown… wrong. He started noticing the way she smiled. The way she tilted her head when picking out an outfit. The way she would quietly put on makeup then pretend, "I'm just going out for boba, not meeting anyone."

And Jisung knew that was a lie. He knew because he often followed her from a distance, just to see who would pick her up, who would laugh with her, who would hold her hand. And every time he saw no one, he felt relieved. Then he felt guilty for being relieved. Then he hated himself for feeling all of it. He tried to erase it. Over and over again. He tried to look at other girls, to keep himself busy, to train harder at basketball, even wished he could transfer schools or live alone. But it all came back the moment he saw his sister asleep with her cheek glowing under the light and her lips slightly parted. When she leaned on his shoulder and laughed freely. When she cried and hugged him as if he was the only one who understood her world.

Love was already painful. But a feeling that shouldn't exist at all… was torture.

And that night, when his older sister fell asleep early on the couch still wearing mascara, and her phone buzzed with a notification from a guy named Renjun, Jisung stared at the screen with a breath caught in his throat. He looked at her sleeping face. Then whispered softly, almost like a confession meant only for himself.

"I wish you weren't my sister."

**[ WELCOME TO AU NCT! JISUNG PARK IS HERE! HAVE A GOOD TIME<3 ]**