Zenjiro sat frozen on his wooden chair. The opposite side of the dining table felt incredibly far away.
A heavy, violent throb pounded right behind his eyes. The hangover tore at his nerves. Every single pulse of his heart sent a fresh wave of dull pain straight down his neck. He lowered his gaze. He stared at the small, square piece of white tissue paper resting near his empty bowl.
Liora sat across from him. Her right arm lay flat on the wooden table. Her pale forehead rested heavily against her own forearm. She did not look at him. She just breathed slowly. She hid her face entirely from the bright afternoon light.
Zenjiro looked back at the tissue.
The entire dining room slowly faded away. The brown wooden walls blurred into dark, meaningless shadows. The ambient noise of the distant street traffic vanished completely from his ears. His field of vision narrowed down to a single, tiny square of white paper.
The pounding pain in his skull demanded a solution. The medicine hidden inside that paper became the absolute center of his world. It was incredibly attractive to his aching body. It was the only cure left in the entire house.
He reached forward. He grabbed the folded tissue.
He slowly pulled the soft paper edges apart. The white pill sat right in the middle. It was completely coated in a thick, clear layer of Liora's sticky saliva. The moisture caught the light. It glistened wetly against the dry paper.
Zenjiro extended his left hand. He pinched the wet pill between his index finger and his thumb.
The sticky liquid clung instantly to his bare skin. He lifted the medicine into the air. He stared at it with intense, unbroken focus. The bitter chemical smell mixed faintly with the sweet scent of her mouth.
"Onii-chan."
The sudden voice shattered the quiet room.
Zenjiro flinched hard. His shoulders jerked up.
"Are you still not finished?" Liora complained loudly. Her voice was raspy and tired. "My head is aching. I need a massage on my head now."
She slowly started to lift her forehead off her arm. She began to look up across the table.
Pure, blind panic exploded in Zenjiro's chest. He held the saliva-coated pill right out in the open. If she saw it, she would probably ask questions. She would want to know why he was holding the exact same medicine she just spit out.
He moved purely on raw survival instinct. He threw his left hand forward. He shoved the sticky white pill directly into his own mouth. His index finger and his thumb pushed completely past his lips to ensure the medicine dropped onto his tongue.
He pulled his hand out just as Liora fully raised her head. She looked straight at him.
"Onii-chan, hurry," Liora demanded. She frowned deeply. "I am dying out here."
Zenjiro grabbed a tall glass of cold water from the table. He brought the rim to his mouth. He swallowed the bitter, sticky pill down in one big gulp. He drank the cold water to wash the bitter taste away.
He lowered the glass. He swallowed hard.
A sudden, terrifying realization hit his mind. He froze completely. He stared at his own left hand resting on the wooden table.
He just used his left index finger and his left thumb to push the pill inside his mouth. They were the exact same fingers he used earlier. He had forcefully pushed those specific fingers deep inside Liora's mouth to give her the exact same medicine. They had touched her tongue. They had touched the wet heat inside her cheeks.
He just put them directly into his own mouth.
A heavy lump formed in his throat. He gulped loudly. The indirect, highly intimate contact sent a sudden rush of heat straight into his stomach. It triggered him to remember the seal yesterday again. He shoved his left hand deep into his pocket to hide his shaking fingers.
He stood up from his chair. He dragged the heavy piece of furniture around the edge of the dining table. The wood scraped harshly against the floorboards. He positioned his chair on the direct left side of Liora. He left absolutely zero physical distance between their seats.
He sat down.
Liora moved instantly. She leaned her entire upper body to the left. She dropped her head heavily onto Zenjiro's right shoulder. She acted purely on blind instinct. She wanted to rest her aching head and his right shoulder was the best spot at that moment.
Her lower body shifted with the movement. Her left thigh bumped firmly against Zenjiro's right knee. She did not pull away. She left her bare leg pressing hard against him.
Liora shifted her weight. She leaned her left shoulder heavily against the front of Zenjiro's right shoulder. Her left thigh bumped firmly against his right knee. The uneven contact forced their bodies into a tight, angled embrace rather than a straight parallel line. Her head dropped.
Zenjiro felt the soft crown of her hair press directly under his chin and against his right cheek. He raised both of his hands. He sank his fingers deep into her messy blonde hair. He started massaging her scalp. He moved his fingertips in slow, tight circles.
Liora let out a long, quiet sigh. Her tense shoulders dropped. She started to relax completely under his gentle touch. The heavy pain of her hangover slowly faded into the background.
Twenty whole minutes passed in the quiet dining room.
Zenjiro kept both of his hands moving. He looked down at her face. The physical proximity was absolute zero. Her head rested completely flush against him. He felt the intense, radiating warmth of her scalp directly against his right cheek and the bottom of his jaw.
He examined her features closely. Her blonde hair was a wild, tangled mess. Her pale skin looked slightly flushed from the hangover. A small trail of dried drool marked the corner of her lips. She looked completely ruined by the alcohol.
Yet, the raw truth hit him hard. She was undeniably attractive. The messy state did not hide her natural beauty. The unbuttoned, wrinkled white blouse clung tightly to her ribs. It highlighted the soft, heavy curves of her chest pressing against his arm. She possessed a genuinely sexy body.
He shifted his gaze downward. He looked at her bare left thigh resting heavily against his knee. The thick, dark fabric of her pleated skirt rode high up her leg. A large expanse of pale, smooth skin lay entirely exposed to the warm afternoon air.
A highly dangerous thought crept directly into his mind. A sudden, violent desire flared in his chest. He wanted to touch that bare skin. He wanted to feel the intense heat radiating from her leg.
He kept rubbing her head. He needed to test the waters.
"Liora," Zenjiro called out softly.
She did not answer him. Her breathing remained perfectly slow and steady.
"Liora," he called her name again. He pitched his voice slightly louder.
Nothing happened. She did not twitch. She did not groan. She was entirely unresponsive. The deep, relaxing massage and the heavy hangover had pulled her straight into a deep sleep.
Zenjiro stared at her exposed thigh. His heart beat fast.
This is my little sister, Zenjiro thought desperately. I have to stop thinking about this right now. It is completely wrong.
He tried to build a solid mental wall. He tried to force his eyes to look at the blank kitchen wall. He tried to remember the eleven years they spent growing up together. He tried to resist the dark urge building in his stomach.
The resistance failed. The strict moral boundary completely backfired. Fighting the desire only added raw fuel to the fire. The more he told himself to stop, the more his dark instinct demanded he take the risk. He was already drowning in the memory of the heavy sandwich.
Then, a fragile thread of restraint finally snapped inside him.
Liora seemed to sleep peacefully. Her head rested heavily against the front of his right shoulder. Her warm breath washed steadily over his collarbone. The solid weight of her bare left thigh remained pressed completely flat against his right knee.
Zenjiro slowly turned his neck. He looked down past her sleeping face. He looked at her entire body. The protective, brotherly filter completely vanished from his eyes. He replaced it with a dark, malicious observation.
He looked at her strictly as a craving man. An unfiltered thought flooded his mind.
Look at the way that thin white blouse clings to her skin. The top buttons are completely open. The fabric pulls tight across her chest every single time she takes a breath. It is so incredibly soft. Look at the heavy, dark skirt riding up her legs. She just leaves her pale thighs completely exposed right next to me. She is entirely defenseless. She just drops her guard and offers her body heat to me without a single second thought. It drives me absolutely crazy. The skin looks so warm. I just want to grab it. I desperately need to feel that heat again.
His breathing turned heavy and shallow. His left hand stopped massaging her scalp.
He lowered his arm slowly. He moved his hand through the empty air. He aimed directly for her bare left thigh.
His fingertips brushed against the pale skin.
It was incredibly warm. The sudden heat sent a massive jolt of electricity straight up his arm. He flattened his entire palm against her leg. The texture was flawlessly smooth and dangerously soft.
He started rubbing her thigh. He moved his hand gently downward toward her knee. He reversed the motion. He pushed his hand slowly upward toward her hip.
He dragged his palm downward again. He pushed it upward. He repeated the slow, agonizing stroke three full times.
The heavy friction caught the dark fabric of her pleated skirt. The rough cloth moved upward and downward with his sliding hand. The hem bunched higher up her leg with every single upward push.
A deep, overwhelming satisfaction hit Zenjiro's chest. The dark thrill completely erased his pounding headache. He finally touched the forbidden heat.
He stopped his moving hand. He left his palm resting flat against the middle of Liora's left thigh. He waited for five full seconds in the dead silence of the dining room. He listened to her steady breathing. She did not wake up.
He tightened his fingers. He gripped the soft flesh of her thigh a little harder. The pale skin yielded perfectly under his firm pressure. He held the tight grip for a moment. Then, he slowly loosened his fingers.
He moved his left hand again. He started gliding his palm slowly upward. He pushed past the middle of her thigh. He moved directly toward the forbidden territory.
The edge of his hand caught the thick hem of her dark skirt. He pushed the heavy fabric higher. He exposed even more bare skin to the warm air. He moved closer and closer to the absolute limit.
Then, a tired voice broke the silence.
"Onii-chan, why are you rubbing my thigh?"
Zenjiro froze.
His entire body turned instantly to solid stone. His heart stopped beating for a full second. The blood drained completely out of his face. His left hand remained entirely clamped onto her bare upper thigh. He stopped breathing. Pure terror exploded inside his skull.