"Sister, let me serve you some rice."
The dishes had barely been arranged on the table when Hōjō Shione heard her younger sister's voice, sweet as honeyed syrup. Before she could even reach her seat, Suzune was already there, carefully placing a small bowl of perfectly portioned rice in front of her chair.
Shione's eyes narrowed.
Something's wrong.
Her survival instincts—honed through years of dealing with this particular gremlin—were screaming at her. She fixed her sister with a suspicious look, the kind that said I know you're up to something without needing words.
Under that penetrating gaze, Hōjō Suzune's heart stuttered. But years of practice had made her an expert at hiding her true feelings. She plastered on her brightest, most innocent smile.
"What's wrong, Sister? Come sit down!"
She darted behind Shione and pulled out the chair with exaggerated diligence, like a maid in a period drama trying too hard to please the young mistress.
Shione didn't move. Instead, she studied her sister with a faint, knowing smile.
"What's wrong, Suzune? Why are you suddenly so eager to serve your sister today?"
Her voice was soft, almost gentle—which made it infinitely more terrifying.
Suzune's red lips parted, then pressed together. She lowered her eyes, suddenly demure.
"Isn't it because I haven't seen you in so long... I missed you a little..."
Her voice trailed off, softer than before, practically dripping with manufactured shyness.
"Is that so."
Shione nodded thoughtfully, as if considering this explanation. Then she reached out, touched her sister's forehead, and brushed aside her bangs. After a moment of apparent concern, she stared directly into Suzune's eyes.
"I miss you too, Suzune. But why didn't you miss me yesterday? Or the day before? Why only today?"
"..."
Suzune's toes curled inside her slippers. Her palms clenched at her sides.
You old witch, she cursed internally. I advise you not to be ungrateful!
But when she raised her head, her eyes had magically filled with tears. She looked at Shione with wounded innocence.
"I just... I missed you so much. And when I heard Mom talking about you earlier, I felt so ashamed of how I've acted..."
Her voice wobbled. Perfectly. Like she'd practiced it.
Something in Shione's chest softened despite herself. She reached out and gently touched her sister's head.
"Suzune has become so mature."
Before Suzune could capitalize on this victory, Mrs. Hōjō emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. She pulled out a chair and sat down with a meaningful look at her youngest.
"It's about time she matured. She'll be eighteen in a few days. If she doesn't grow up now, she'll have a hard time in the real world."
Suzune endured the pats on her head—each one a tiny assault on her already precarious height situation—and said nothing. Her eyes darted around the table, avoiding everyone's gaze.
"Let's eat."
Mrs. Hōjō looked at her two daughters with visible relief. Maybe her little talk with Suzune hadn't been wasted after all.
"Where's Father? Shouldn't we wait for him?"
Shione glanced at the empty head of the table as she settled into her seat.
Mrs. Hōjō's expression flickered—just briefly—before she picked up her chopsticks. "No need. He said he's going out for drinks with his colleagues tonight."
"Oh..."
Shione frowned but said nothing more. She'd grown accustomed to this pattern over the years. Honestly, his absence was probably for the best—it meant fewer arguments over trivial matters, fewer tense silences, fewer moments where she had to choose sides between her parents.
The meal proceeded with surprising harmony. Even without Hōjō Seijin present, the family dynamic worked smoothly. Perhaps because he wasn't present.
"Sister, try this!"
"Sister, the fish cheek meat is the best part—you work so hard, you need to nourish yourself!"
"Sister, why aren't you drinking the soup? It's good for your complexion!"
All through dinner, Hōjō Suzune buzzed around the table like the world's most suspiciously helpful honeybee. She transferred food to Shione's bowl, rearranged dishes to be closer to her, and generally acted like she was auditioning for "Most Devoted Little Sister of the Year."
Within minutes, Shione's bowl resembled a small mountain. Even the soup bowls had migrated to her side of the table.
Shione stared at the growing pile of food, a helpless smile tugging at her lips. She couldn't even bring herself to eat—every time she reached for her chopsticks, another piece of something appeared in her bowl.
Mrs. Hōjō watched the entire performance in silence, her own chopsticks resting motionless against her bowl. Her expression was unreadable.
"Sister, I think you should—"
SMACK.
Mrs. Hōjō's chopsticks hit the table with enough force to make both sisters jump. Suzune's head whipped toward her mother, eyes wide.
"Suzune. Eat your own food. Properly."
Suzune's lip trembled. Not entirely from acting, this time.
"I am eating properly! I just wanted to be nice to Sister!"
"Then you might as well just feed her directly and be done with it."
Suzune glanced at Shione, biting her lip thoughtfully.
...That's not the worst idea I've ever heard.
The momentary pause stretched just long enough to be awkward before Shione intervened with a gentle laugh.
"Alright, alright. Let's just eat. Thank you, Suzune—I've missed you too, you know. It's been so long since I've seen you, and you look like you've lost weight. Here, eat more."
As she spoke, her gaze flickered—just briefly—to Suzune's chest. Then she placed the prized piece of fish cheek meat into her sister's bowl.
Suzune caught the look.
She did NOT just—
But her face maintained its grateful smile. "Thank you, Sister."
I'll remember this.
....
Dinner ended in what could technically be called harmony.
After helping clear the table and watching their mother retreat to her room, Suzune spotted her opportunity. Shione was curled on the sofa, apparently absorbed in some mindless television program.
Suzune considered her approach for a moment, then shifted her small frame across the cushions, inching closer and closer until she was practically pressed against her sister's side.
Shione didn't react. Didn't acknowledge her. Just kept staring at the TV with the lazy contentment of a cat in a sunbeam.
But she'd been watching Suzune's approach the entire time through her peripheral vision. Years of sisterhood had taught her one immutable truth: when Suzune acted nice, Suzune wanted something. It was as reliable as gravity.
There's definitely something wrong.
Shione knew her sister better than anyone. They'd grown up together, fought together, endured each other's existence together. And in all that time, she'd developed a very clear understanding of Suzune's personality profile:
Sleeping habits: better than a well-fed dog.
Eating habits: greedier than a prize-winning pig.
Stubbornness: more immovable than a donkey with opinions.
Especially that last one.
This was the same girl who, in middle school, had hopped on a train to Hokkaido without telling anyone because she'd decided she wanted to see snow. The same girl who never apologized, who argued ten points for every one made against her. The same girl who treated school rules like suggestions and authority figures like obstacles to be overcome.
Back when she'd been denied qualification for a competition, she'd raised absolute hell at school, demanding transparency and fairness with the kind of righteous fury usually reserved for anime protagonists confronting corrupt authority figures. She'd won, naturally. But she'd also made the girl who'd tried to use connections cry her eyes out in the process, reducing her to a sniffling mess in the faculty office.
That was Hōjō Suzune in a nutshell.
She didn't listen to anyone.
Anyone except Shiratori Seiya.
His words carried weight with her in a way no one else's did. Teachers? Beneath notice. Parents? Obstacles to be navigated. Even her own sister? Frequently on the receiving end of her sharp tongue, especially during the time Shione was dating Seiya. Back then, Suzune had barely spared her a single kind look. She'd strut around with her nose in the air, proud as a little white swan who knew she was the main character in her own story.
Suzune likes Seiya.
Shione had known this for a long time. Her little sister constantly clung to him under the guise of being a "younger sister," always finding excuses to touch his arm, sit next to him, monopolize his attention.
Shione had noticed. Of course she'd noticed.
But what was she supposed to do? Start an all-out war with her own flesh and blood? Their relationship was already complicated enough without adding that fuel to the fire.
So she'd turned a blind eye. Pretended not to see.
But she wasn't stupid.
Suzune claiming to be sad about their breakup? Shione wouldn't believe that for a single second. If anything, Suzune was probably disappointed the fireworks display got canceled. Sadness required caring about someone else's happiness, and Suzune's emotional range mostly extended to "what benefits me."
So why the sudden transformation? Why the sudden acting?
"Sis~ Are you going to take a bath?"
Suzune had edged closer during Shione's quiet contemplation, her face arranged into an expression of pure sisterly devotion. The flattering smile was almost painful to witness.
Shione didn't bother turning her head. "I'm not in a hurry. You go first."
"Oh... I'm not in a hurry either. I'll go prepare the bath water for you!"
Suzune bounced up from the sofa and scurried toward the bathroom like an eager puppy.
Ten minutes later, she emerged with water stains darkening her T-shirt, dashed to the refrigerator, and produced a bag of potato chips like a peasant offering tribute to an unimpressed queen.
"Sister! These are the new potato chips they just stocked. Would you like to try some?"
Shione smiled faintly, finally shifting her gaze to her sister. "I'm dieting. No snacks."
She cleared her throat delicately.
"My throat's been a little uncomfortable lately..."
Suzune's eyes lit up like she'd just spotted a cheat code. She shot to her feet.
"I'll make you honey water!"
Moments later, Suzune carefully carried a warm cup of honey water to the coffee table, placing it with the reverence of someone handling sacred artifacts.
"Sis, the honey water's ready."
"Thank you, Suzune."
"You're so welcome! We're sisters, and you work so hard..."
Shione was quite satisfied with this performance. She picked up the cup, examined its contents thoughtfully, then fixed Suzune with a meaningful look.
"There's nothing strange in here, is there?"
Suzune's face stiffened. She knew exactly what Shione was referencing—that time she'd "accidentally" added salt to her sister's drink. The memory surfaced, bringing a flush of embarrassment to her cheeks. But she maintained her wounded expression with practiced skill.
"If Sister doesn't believe me, I'll drink some first... I really just want to be good to you..."
Shione ignored the offer completely. She took a silent sip, returned the cup to the table, and resumed staring at the television.
Silence stretched between them.
Suzune fidgeted, rubbing her fingers together anxiously. Finally, she couldn't contain herself.
"Sis... I'll be eighteen in two days."
"I know."
Shione nodded. "What gift do you want? I'll come back to celebrate."
What I want, you can't bring back.
Suzune kept that thought carefully hidden behind her most innocent expression. She chose her next words with surgical precision.
"Sis, you're so busy. You don't have to travel all the way back just for my birthday..."
Shione said nothing.
"I'm so old now, and I've never even been to Tokyo for fun. I was thinking... for my birthday, it would be amazing to take pictures there. You know, commemorate the occasion."
There it is.
Shione's heart stirred. She glanced at her sister, her expression carefully arranged into one of mild concern.
"But if I'm in Tokyo, I won't have time to go anywhere with you. So many people recognize me there..."
"Oh... is that so?"
Suzune's face fell with practiced disappointment. But inside, her heart was racing. Her hidden hand clenched into a fist.
Success or failure rests on this one move.
She took a shallow breath, then brightened as if struck by a brilliant inspiration.
"Hey, Sis... have you talked to Shiratori-kun recently?"
Shiratori-kun? Shione's internal smirk widened. Since when did "Seiya, Seiya" become so formal?
Outwardly, she only looked sad. "No. Why?"
"Oh, nothing. I just heard Shiratori-kun is also studying in Tokyo, right? If you're too busy, maybe he could take me around? What do you think?"
Shione didn't respond immediately. Slowly, she lowered her legs from the sofa, sat up straight, and fixed her sister with a serious stare.
"You've already contacted Seiya, haven't you?"
Suzune's heart nearly stopped. A panicked smile flickered across her face.
"How could I, Sis—"
Shione raised a hand, cutting her off mid-protest.
"Don't speak. Let me guess."
She studied Suzune's frozen expression with the satisfaction of a cat watching a cornered mouse.
"You got Seiya's number from somewhere. You asked him about coming to Tokyo for your birthday. He told you he'd only take you if I agreed."
Suzune's smile crumbled completely. Her delicate brows drew together, her eyes darkening with frustrated defeat.
Looking at her sister's face, Shione knew she'd hit the mark exactly. She picked up the honey water, took another sip, and said softly,
"What's wrong? Am I incorrect, Suzune? You look upset."
With the act thoroughly exposed, Suzune dropped all pretense. She glared at her sister coldly.
"So? Do you agree or not?"
"I agree. Why wouldn't I?"
"Then I'll just—"
Suzune had already started mentally drafting her escape, preparing to retreat and regroup. Then the words registered.
She whirled back, incredulous.
"You agree?"
"Why not? You're my dearest sister."
Shione looked at her with an expression Suzune couldn't quite read—fond, maybe, but with something deeper underneath. Something calculating. She reached out and gently touched Suzune's cheek.
Suzune swallowed hard. Her heart pounded erratically.
She agreed? Just like that?
Before she could process her victory, before she could even formulate a response, Shione asked a question that made her blood run cold.
"Suzune... I remember Seiya once said you have talent for the piano, didn't he?"