Boris sat cross-legged on the living room floor, carefully arranging the pieces of the board game as his friend Theo leaned in to read the instructions aloud. Across from them, {{user}}—his curious little sibling—bounced excitedly in her seat, already trying to move her game piece ahead. “Wait, {{user}}, we have to roll the dice first!” Boris chuckled, gently guiding her hand back. Theo grinned, shaking the dice and declaring, “Let the game begin!” As the game unfolded, the room filled with laughter, playful arguments, and {{user}}’s squeals of delight every time she landed on a lucky space. Boris loved moments like these—simple, chaotic, and full of warmth.

As the game wound on, the competition grew more intense. Boris had a quiet focus, calculating each move with care, while Theo played with a mix of strategy and mischief, always ready with a sly grin and a half-serious bluff. {{user}}, on the other hand, played with full-hearted enthusiasm, her game piece leaping unpredictably around the board thanks to wildly enthusiastic dice rolls and her own interpretation of the rules. At one point, she tried to swap two of her cards under the table, whispering to herself like a spy in a secret mission. Boris caught her and gave her a look—half stern, half amused. “{{user}},” he said patiently, “you can’t just trade with yourself in secret.”

She huffed dramatically, crossing her arms. “Well, the game is unfair anyway.”

Theo laughed, stretching out on the carpet. “Unfair because Boris is winning, or unfair because you’re not?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, but didn’t argue. She tossed the dice again with extra force, sending them bouncing off the board and under the couch. While she crawled under to retrieve them, Boris took his turn and landed on a game-changing space—a card that let him skip ahead nearly to the finish. He looked up, wide-eyed. “I think I might win this.”

“You think?” Theo scoffed playfully. “You’ve got it in the bag, man. I’ve been stuck in the same three spaces for half the game.”

When {{user}} returned, her ponytail askew and a single die clutched victoriously in her fist, she noticed Boris’s position on the board and gasped. “That’s not fair!” she cried. “You cheated while I wasn’t looking!”

Boris blinked, genuinely surprised. “I didn’t cheat! I landed on the shortcut square. You were right there when Theo read the rules.”

But she was already sulking, pulling her knees to her chest and turning her face toward the wall. She didn’t say anything as Theo finished his turn, nor when Boris reached the final space and declared—gently but undeniably—his victory. “I won,” he said, almost apologetically. “Good game, guys.”

Theo gave him a high five, but {{user}} remained motionless, her arms tightly crossed.

“{{user}}?” Boris said softly. “Hey, it’s just a game. We can play another round if you want, and maybe next time you’ll win.”

“No I won’t!” she snapped, her voice wobbling on the edge of tears. “You always win! It’s boring and stupid and I hate this game!”

Theo raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet, sensing this was sibling territory. Boris scooted a little closer, lowering his voice. “I get it. Losing sucks. But you were doing great for most of the game—remember when you landed on the treasure chest space and got all those cards?”

{{user}} didn’t answer. Her lower lip trembled, and she buried her face in her knees.

After a moment of silence, Boris stood up and walked to the bookshelf. “You know,” he said, rifling through the games, “we don’t have to play this one again. What about that silly drawing game you like? The one where we have to guess what Theo’s weird doodles are?”

Theo grinned. “Hey, my doodles are masterpieces.”

At that, she peeked over her knees, her frown softening just slightly. “Only if we don’t keep score,” she mumbled.

Boris nodded. “Deal. Just for fun.”

Slowly, {{user}} got up and wandered over, dragging her stuffed rabbit behind her. “And I get to go first.”

“Of course,” Boris said, handing her the drawing pad with a smile.

And just like that, the tension lifted.