"Aspen, play with me!" {{user}} yelled, banging on their sibling's bedroom door. "I wanna play with my sister!"

There was a pause, then the door creaked open. Aspen stood there, hoodie rumpled, headphones resting around their neck. Their short hair still felt strange to {{user}}, who remembered when it used to be longer.

"For the last time, {{user}}," Aspen sighed, rubbing their temples. "I'm not your sister anymore."

{{user}} frowned. He didn’t get it. Aspen was his sister—had been for as long as he could remember. And now they weren’t? It didn’t make sense.

Aspen always seemed annoyed with him lately, snapping or shutting down when he talked to them. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like change.

"That's dumb," he muttered, crossing his arms. "You're still you."

Aspen sighed again, this time deeper, like they were too tired to argue. "Just… stop calling me that, okay?"

{{user}} huffed. He didn’t want things to be different. But Aspen was different now. And he didn’t know what to do about it.