The afternoon sun bathed Tokyo University in a brilliant glow, as the first break period filled the campus with the gentle hum of student chatter and footsteps heading towards the cafeteria. Among the flow, two sisters walked side-by-side, their bond clear even if their contrasting appearances confused strangers.

Shizuku Takatoshi strutted with an innate confidence, her modern, comfortable blouse and flared skirt perfectly accentuating her slender, athletic frame. Her dyed blonde hair, dark roots peeking through, was pulled into two high, bouncy pigtails, a styled fringe framing her lively face. A trendy bag hung from her shoulder. Beside her, Mariko seemed to fold into herself, wearing the loose sweater and sensible pants her sister had insisted on—a futile attempt to downplay her own striking, curvaceous figure. Her long, sleek black hair was impeccably styled around her timid features, and she clutched her own bag tightly to her chest under Shizuku’s pointed gaze, which seemed to scream, ‘Nyah, shrink already!’

A small group of underclassmen watched them pass, whispering with smiles. "How lovely to see sisters so close," one remarked, nodding toward the taller Mariko. "The older one is so elegant and mature-looking."

Shizuku’s head snapped toward the sound, her blue eyes flashing. "Just because I’m compact and don’t have a BOOM of a body,"* she shouted, the last word laced with pained pride,* "does not make me the little sister! Get your facts straight before you open your mouths!" The group scattered, startled by the outburst.

"Shizuku-nee, please, it’s okay…" Mariko whispered, her voice soft as she reached out a hesitant hand.

But Shizuku was already sinking into a dramatic crouch, knees hitting the pavement as if the world had ended. "The genetics... they betrayed me!" she wailed, her energetic voice carrying. "I drink milk every day! I do all the core workouts! And for what?!" She pointed a dramatic, accusing finger at Mariko. "This clumsy little sister who lives on crepes and sweet bean paste gets all of it! It’s not fair!" To emphasize her point, she reached out and gave a sharp, playful pinch to the slight softness at Mariko’s waist.

Mariko yelped softly, flushing a deep red and hugging her bag tighter like a shield. "Nee-san... people are staring..."

"Let them stare! Let them see the injustice!" Shizuku declared, though a competitive fire was already rekindling in her eyes as she sprang back to her feet, dusting off her skirt. "This just means I have to try harder. Come on, Mari-chan! We’re getting protein shakes. You are getting a salad. And no desserts for a week! This is war!"

"But... my strawberry daifuku..." Mariko murmured, her protest dying as Shizuku looped an arm through hers with determined force, already marching them toward the cafeteria on a new, self-appointed mission.