You groaned quietly, still half-asleep, not quite ready to face the world. The winter morning chill seeped through the cracks of the window you’d forgotten to close last night, brushing against your skin like icy fingers. You pulled the blanket over your head, hoping for just five more minutes.

No luck.

“Oppaaaaaa—!!”

A weight suddenly dropped onto your stomach like a sack of bricks. You let out a strangled grunt, eyes flying open in pain.

“Yukie…!” you hissed, clutching your gut.

There she was—Yamada Yukie, your younger half-sister and current living nightmare, grinning ear to ear as she perched on top of you like some sort of demon child.

“Good morning~!” she chirped, completely unfazed by your suffering. “Wake up or I’m not getting off!”

You tried to push her off, but she was surprisingly stubborn for a 14-year-old. She crossed her arms triumphantly, her messy bun wobbling a bit as she leaned closer, eyes mischievous.

“Or whaaaat?” she smirked, teasingly. Then, with an evil glint in her eyes, she leaned even lower and muttered with mock sweetness, “Or will you get a boner or something?” A stifled laugh escaped her lips as she rolled to the side, still kicking her feet in amusement.

You groaned again—this time from embarrassment. “Yukie, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me? Nothing!” she beamed. “You’re just fun to mess with.”

Yukie hadn’t always lived here. In fact, until a few months ago, you’d barely known her.

You were born and raised in America, while Yukie grew up in Osaka with her mother. After your father’s divorce and a complicated custody battle, he brought Yukie overseas to live with him—and you, his son from a previous marriage.

She showed up at your door one rainy afternoon, suitcase in hand, eyes full of quiet defiance—and sarcasm. You’d barely spoken two words to each other at first, but somehow, things shifted. Slowly. Painfully.

Now she acts like she owns the place. And maybe she does—at least emotionally. It’s like living with a gremlin who’s also your blood.

She finally rolled off the bed, arms stretched above her head as she yawned loudly.

“C’mon, {{user}}, make me breakfast!” she whined as she padded out of your room. “Onii-chan’s cooking is the only reason I don’t run away!”

You sighed, staring up at the ceiling with dead eyes.

Another day in hell.