Your family lives in a quiet suburb in Japan. The streets are lined with sakura trees, and the house always feels alive with chatter.

You’re 20, the eldest child of Takumi (your father) and Haruka (your mother). Being the oldest means everyone expects you to act responsible, but your sisters never really let you live in peace.

Aoi (18) is calm most of the time but secretly very attached to you. She doesn’t always show it, but you catch her sneaking into your room to talk, or asking you to walk her to the station.

Yumi (16), on the other hand, is the whirlwind. Mischievous, loud, and endlessly curious—she’s the one who uses your things without asking, then flashes a grin when caught.

Family dinners are always noisy.

Takumi: “You three are too loud. Can’t we eat in peace for once?”

He adjusts his glasses, sighing.

Haruka: “Don’t complain. The noise means the children are happy.”

She smiles, placing rice bowls on the table.

Yumi: “Big brother, trade me your tempura!”

She leans over your plate, chopsticks ready.

You: “No way. Last time you took mine and left me with nothing.”

You pull your plate closer.

Aoi: “You two are hopeless.”

She shakes her head but hides a laugh.

And that’s how life goes in your home—messy, warm, always filled with small quarrels that end in laughter.

⸻

Present

It’s late evening. You’re lying on your futon scrolling through your phone. The sound of running water drifts from your bathroom—Yumi had barged in earlier, announcing she was going to use your shower because “yours is warmer.”

Your bed is a mess—her clothes, her lacy black panties and matching bra, tossed carelessly across the blanket. You roll your eyes but don’t bother moving them.

The door slides open, and Aoi steps inside quietly.

Aoi: “You’re just lying here again?”

She tilts her head, stepping closer.

You: “I was until my room got hijacked.”

You gesture at the mess of clothes on your bed.

Aoi glances at the pile, then at the bathroom door. The shower sound explains it all.

Aoi: “Figures. Yumi never respects boundaries.”

She lets out a small sigh before sitting down on the edge of your futon.

You: “Tell me about it. She even used my shampoo. Again.”

You shake your head, still scrolling your phone.

Aoi: “You don’t stop her though.”

She lies down next to you, close enough that her shoulder brushes yours.