"Young Master Kagura, judging by your demeanor, Miss Kawasaki must have entertained you splendidly, I presume?"
"Indeed, no need for dinner at home."
Kagura leaned against the car door, eyes half-closed, responding languidly.
"Additionally, Miss Eriri seems to have matters to discuss with you. It might be wise to visit her upon your return."
"Noted, I'll stop by."
"And…" Nao smirked slyly, "with Ai absent from your side lately, if there's anything I can assist with, please don't hesitate to ask."
"No worries, I'm already grateful for your daily school pickups and drop-offs."
"Oh, that's merely my duty, no thanks needed," Nao replied, flooring the accelerator with a gleeful tilt of her head, exclaiming, "SpeedUP~~~!"
Nao's driving was, undeniably, exhilaratingly swift.
By around 9:50 PM, Kagura arrived home. Instead of the usual maids greeting him at the door—whom, as a child, he'd playfully ducked under their skirts—he was met by his endearing mother, Sayuri.
Since Kawasaki wasn't working at the Kagura household on weekdays, Sayuri had shed her ill-fitting butler attire for a traditional kimono. Spotting him from afar, she waved enthusiastically as he stepped out of the car.
Under the warm orange glow of the porch light, a kimono-clad wife welcoming her family home struck Kagura as a scene worthy of a public service ad.
"Yo, Sayu—"
Before he could finish, Sayuri tripped on her kimono's hem, tumbling toward him with a thud!
Kagura dashed forward, catching his clumsy mother, his hands trembling. Giggling in his arms, she blinked up at him, chirping, "Oh my, look who's back—Young Master Kagura!"
"…Sayuri, really?"
Kagura shot her a deadpan →_→ look.
"Making your mother wait so long? Unfilial son!" Clinging to him, she sniffed playfully—his collar, then his armpit, giggling "fufu" incessantly. Annoyed, he gripped her shoulders, shaking her. "What are you sniffing? What's up?"
His "Cleanse" had erased all odors and stains from his clothes. Not even a bloodhound, let alone Sayuri, could detect anything.
"Hm…" Tilting her head, she tapped her lips, slightly disappointed. "Sigh… I thought you'd already had your fill."
"I am full!"
"Not that kind of full."
"…Ugh!"
Kagura slapped his forehead, rolling his eyes.
"Hahahaha, sorry, sorry!" Sayuri clasped her hands by her cheek, tilting her head apologetically. "Eriri's waiting. Go see her."
"Got it. Nao mentioned it."
"Also, have you decided on Qiong's birthday gift?" Sayuri asked, pushing open the front door.
"Uh…" Kagura sighed, murmuring, "I was thinking of composing a new piece for her…"
"A piece? Qiong doesn't know music," Sayuri teased, poking his cheek as they walked. "You still don't get girls, do you? And it's a bit late for that, no?"
"With effort, I might make it."
"No~pe. Let Mommy teach you a trick."
Ascending to the second floor, Sayuri pressed a finger to her lips, shushing him mysteriously.
"Enlighten me."
"Just ask Qiong what she wants."
Sayuri winked, bounding up several steps with only her left eye open.
Kagura, noting her steady stride, didn't bother with "be careful." Her "fall" at the door was likely deliberate, just an excuse to pounce on him.
"That's it?"
He chuckled, thinking it a tad simplistic.
"You'll see when you ask," she said, wagging her finger, then tapping his lips. "Most people prefer gifts they already want over meticulously planned surprises."
"What is this, butler psychology?"
He gently moved her wrist aside.
"Something like that. Just try it."
"Alright, I'll check. Isn't it late to visit Eriri's room now?"
"No problem. Want me to come along?"
Sayuri sidled back, linking arms with him, subtly sniffing his sleeve again.
Kagura's lip twitched as he dryly declined, "No need. I can manage."
At his age, needing his mother to escort him to his sister's room? Mortifying.
Handing his bag to Sayuri to take to his room, he soon reached Eriri's door, knocking twice. "Awake? It's your brother."
"It's unlocked. Come in!"
Eriri's voice brimmed with energy, clearly not asleep.
Kagura twisted the knob, entering, but as he closed the door, Eriri pointed, "Lock it!"
She wore her tacky green-and-white-striped tracksuit, plain gray socks on her feet, legs curled up on the chair's edge. Squatting like a disheveled golden monkey, she chewed her thumbnail, pencil idle in her gloved right hand.
Locking the door, he scanned the brightly lit room. Qiong wasn't there, likely in her own space. At 10 PM, he hesitated to disturb her—she might be asleep.
"Evening! My goodness, what's this? My dear sister, out of inspiration?"
"Can you talk like a normal person?" Eriri grumbled, sucking her thumb, glaring.
Shrugging, he spread his hands. "So, what's up?"
Eriri removed her chunky black glasses, set down her pencil, and stretched, slipping into slippers. Propping her right foot on her left knee, she wiggled it, the slipper dangling, and said, "It's been a week. Haven't checked your progress."
"Oh, the proposal's done."
He patted his side, realizing the proposal was in his bag, which Sayuri had. Visiting Shiwa today, she'd joined his project without seeing it, so he'd forgotten about it.
"A proposal's not enough. Where is it? Let me see."
Eriri propped her chin with her left hand, extending her right, her haughty air reminiscent of a spoiled heir demanding allowance.
Hmph, this idiot who got caught with a vibrator last week dares act smug?
As if reading his mind, Eriri crossed her arms, turning away. "I'll say this first—I threw that thing out!"
"Not using it more?"
"Ugh?! Is that something a brother says to his sister?!"
She shuddered, glaring.
"A normal sister wouldn't use that while out with her brother—"
"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!!" Eriri charged like a headbutting maniac, but Kagura caught her shoulders, calming her. "Chill. The proposal's in my room. We'll check it later. Look at the time."
"Time? Hah—" Tossing her hair, she pouted, "For a manga artist, 10 PM's just the day's start!"
"Making late-night drafting sound so poetic," he said, tapping her head. "Careful, you'll age fast."
"Don't plan to marry, so who cares~"
She squirmed, muttering.
"What'd you say?"
"I said—" Shoving his hands off, she leaned on her desk, slapping the edge. "The script! How's the script? A proper Galgame needs a script!"
"A script's no match for your brother." Patting his chest confidently, he said, "The scriptwriter's set as of today."
"Huh? Not that fool Aki, right?"
"No, no," he waved off. "The author of Metronome in Love—"
"AAAAH!!" Eriri lunged, flailing her loose hair like a "golden mop demon dance," forcing him to block, grumbling, "Stop! You're showering me with dandruff!"
"Tch!" Halting, hands on hips, she scoffed, "What dandruff? I wash my hair daily! Others would beg for this!"
"Keep drafting late, age early, and no one'll want it."
"You're not done, huh?"
"Ahem, back to business," he said, rubbing her forehead. "Why the big reaction? Don't you love Metronome in Love?"
"That Kasumi Shiwa, huh?! Who—who likes her books?! I was brainwashed, bewitched! I don't like them one bit, not a smidge, not at all, not even a kneecap's worth!!"
"What's with the kneecap?"
"No point arguing! If I have to work with Kasumi Shiwa, I'd rather skip this birthday gift!"
She crossed her arms, turning away.
"…Why so hostile? How'd Shiwa-senpai offend you?"
Stepping behind her, he placed both hands on her slim waist, making her jump, crouching by the bed, frantically rubbing her arms. "W-W-What are you doing?!"
"Calming you down."
"Calming doesn't mean grabbing my waist!" Her near-tears voice boomed, "Goosebumps everywhere! Don't touch a girl's waist, you idiot brother!"
"…Really?"
He noted Ai and Kawasaki were back-sensitive, but Eriri's waist was her trigger.
"And, hmph, listen to you," Eriri mocked, stretching her neck, cooing, "'Shiwa-senpai~'—ugh, so gross! I was bewitched by her books, but you? Swayed by her long black hair and stockings?!"
"Well…"
He recalled touching Shiwa's stockings today.
"Oh? What, a deep romantic exchange on the rooftop?"
"Exchange, my foot," he said, eyeing her recent sketches on the desk, murmuring, "Just discussed bl—cough, I mean, Galgame script work."
"Black stockings, right?"
"No, no."
"Don't play dumb! Boys can't peel their eyes off her lower half when she walks!" Standing, she slapped her legs, grumbling, "Just because she's taller, leggier, curvier, sexier, and wears pantyhose?"
"Aren't you forgetting something crucial?"
"What? Think carefully before you speak!"
"Breasts—ow!"
Before finishing, Eriri's fist slammed his jaw.
Turning away, her reddened fist clenched, she hissed, "All men fall for boob gravity, huh? I'm used to it, used to it… Hah, hah—"
"You… hit your own brother that hard?"
"If you weren't my brother, I wouldn't bother!"
"…" Rolling his eyes, he pivoted, "Wait, how'd you know I was with Shiwa-senpai on the rooftop? Were you follow—"
"Following, my foot! I took leave today, didn't go to school. Don't flatter yourself!" Blushing, she cut him off, "And what do you take me for? I'm not some manga or novel stalker sister with a brother complex!"
Though I followed you Saturday, I wasn't caught, so it doesn't count!
"Then how'd you know?"
"How? The whole school knows, so why not me?!" Flipping out her phone, she showed him a LINE post. "Look! If I was at school, I'd have torn you two apart!"
It was a sneaky shot of him holding a bento, walking with Shiwa to the rooftop.
"Someone snapped this?!"
"Stop with the English. Even Mom cries over your English grades."
"Shut up, that's not the point!"
"Fine, yeah, sneaky shot. Who took it?"
"Probably one of your fangirls. Does it matter?"
"…You're my sister, protect my privacy a bit!" Rubbing his forehead, he paused, then added, "So you knew I was meeting Shiwa-senpai for the script?"
"I was like, 'No way,' and called you to confirm."
She pocketed her phone, standing tall.
"Works out, no? We're not hiring an outside writer."
"You could write it! Art's on me, script's on her—what're you doing for my gift? Where's the sincerity?"
"I'm composing, that's what."
"Uh…" Eriri faltered, hissing, turning away, muttering, "Almost forgot… Damn."
"I've invited Shiwa-senpai to our club. It's settled. You insisted on doing the art yourself, and now you're complaining. What's your deal?"
He tapped her forehead with a thwack.
"Ugh, is it wrong to not want to work with Kasumi Shiwa?! You didn't even ask my opinion…"
Poking her index fingers together, she looked pitiful.
"Do you have to argue everything with me?"
Grabbing her shoulders, he spun her around, pinching her chin to force her gaze up.
"Uh… well…" Her eyes darted, flustered, waving, "I… just… don't vibe with Kasumi Shiwa… We don't click. Collaborations need compatibility, right? Like, you know, doing that…"
"Try 'clicking' next time. If you haven't, how'd you know?"
"…" Her face darkened, voice low, "What perverted nonsense? Thirsty for JK holy water?"
"I meant collaboration," he said, pinching her cheeks, stretching them. "Work or not? No work, we disband! Want the birthday gift or not?!"
"Ow…! Stop pinching, agh! I'll work, I'll work, just stop—AAH!"
She finally swatted his hands away.
Her cheeks swelled, tender skin no match for his grip.
Rubbing her face, she grumbled, "Other brothers are gentle and caring. You? Violent coercion! Total scum!"
"You give off vibes that you won't budge without a strong push."
He scrutinized his cheeky sister.
"Huh? What's that mean?" Stomping his foot, she jabbed his chest, glaring up, "This how you treat girls? Who likes being roughed up? Don't take ero-manga's masochist vixens seriously! I draw them, but I'm not one—not one, got it?!"
She dragged out the emphasis.
"Fine, fine, you're not. Happy?"
"What's that attitude?" Fuming, she hopped, but his smug grin left her helpless. Sighing, she turned, "Fine… No time machine to stop past you. For your sake, I'll try working with Kasumi Shiwa."
"Such a sacrifice."
"Also—" Sitting at her desk, tapping her pencil, she asked, "Heroine decided? Ai? Roles assigned? Time for a full meeting, no?"
"Good point," he said, perching on her desk's edge. "This weekend?"
"Third weekend…" She pondered, shaking her head, "No, I'm crunching drafts then. Can't waste time. Golden Week, third day."
May Day holiday, third day.
"Cool, I'll contact them. About the workplace visit before Golden Week—you and Qiong decided?"
"I'm skipping. Qiong followed suit," Eriri said, propping her chin, wiggling her foot. "Industry's a mess—why bother? Learning its dark side? Plus, Qiong's working daily; it's pointless for her."
"Fair. Plans then?"
"Staying home, obviously. Do I look like a mall crawler?"
"Perfect. I'm doing my workplace visit at home."
"Pfft—" Eriri burst out laughing, pulling her draft away, clutching her stomach, "Hahaha… Workplace visit at home? Studying to be a duke?"
"My two friends want to observe housewife and househusband roles. I'll have them shadow Ai's routine. Half her skill, and they'll ace homemaking."
"Oh~~~, who's the housewife hopeful?"
Eriri's face lit up with gossip.
"My deskmate," he said casually, "Kato Megumi. Nice, quiet girl."
"Kato? Megumi—?" Savoring the name, she shook her head, "Never heard of her."
"Totally normal."
"Sure bringing classmates home won't cause trouble?"
"Like what?"
"Like… seeing through Ai's disguise?"
"Nah, Ai's too sharp for that."
He shook his head firmly.
"Here we go, 'Ai, my Irish lover~~'!" Eriri mocked, blowing a kiss toward Ai's room, cackling.
"Real mature…"
"Oh, it's very mature."
"…"
"What'd you do this afternoon? Back so late?"
She kicked his leg with her slipper.
"Visited Kawasaki's place. Her family didn't believe she works here for good pay, so I clarified."
"Could've sent a maid, like Ai."
"Can't order her around now—Mom's got control."
"I meant big Ai, not little Ai."
"Oh… right, good point."
It dawned on him.
True, Kawasaki could've had him send a maid, but she'd insisted he come, even buying condoms—clearly planning the "main event."
As a girl, Eriri sensed something off but lacked proof.
"Next time, don't be dumb. You're a duke's heir—why handle everything yourself?"
"You make me sound out of touch. This is Japan, not Britain."
"Tch, I give advice, and you brush it off," she huffed, tossing her head, "Do what you want, just don't cause a scandal."
Creak—
The door sounded, and both turned.
Qiong, clutching a black rabbit plushie, stood in a thin white camisole nightdress, expressionless. Adjusting her strap, she shielded her chest with the plushie, nodding distantly at Kagura.
Recalling their morning car reconciliation, he smiled, waving, "Evening, Qiong."
"Just 'Qiong,' no 'little,'" she said, padding barefoot on the carpet, "I know I'm small."
"…Alright, Qiong," he said awkwardly, glancing at Eriri, then asking, "About your birthday gift, I wanted to ask you something."
"Mm… Go ahead."
Surprisingly, she didn't seem annoyed.
"I've been thinking all day about what to get you, even considered composing a piece…"
"Too late, and I wouldn't know if it's good."
"Crunch time might make it work," he said, reaching out with a smile, "But I'd rather ask—what do you want, Qiong? I'll get it."
"…Saying it outright kills the surprise, doesn't it?"
Hesitating, she added after a pause.
I want your worn boxers and a big tube of your semen—can't exactly say that…
"Exactly," Eriri chimed in, snorting, "What's with you? Your EQ's worse than a wishy-washy Galgame protagonist."
"Ouch—"
Kagura faltered, thinking, Sayuri, you set me up!
This didn't work! Sayuri Doraemon, where are you?!
Was it a generation gap? Sayuri's era might've been like that, but modern girls…
"Also… no underwear. I can't wear underwear you pick."
Qiong hugged her plushie tighter, squinting with mild disdain.
"No way your brother's dumb enough to gift you lingerie," Eriri scoffed, "Especially without knowing your size."
"Size? Like you need to ask?"
Kagura's quip drew twin glares from Eriri and Qiong, who said in unison, "What'd you say? Didn't hear."
If he recalled, Eriri was 32A, maybe A+ nearing B; Qiong was 32AA… Both tragically flat.
Sayuri, unsurprisingly, was likely Qiong's level—flatter than Eriri, he suspected.
"I mean… I don't know how girls' underwear sizes work."
"Oh…" Qiong nodded, satisfied, "Anyway, gifts are your job to figure out. Asking me's cheating!"
"Fair. Makes gifting Eriri easiest."
"What's that mean?"
"Some otaku merch, and you're sorted."
"Sorted? Sorted?" Slamming the desk, clutching her chest, she fumed, "Sure, I love otaku stuff, but that makes me mad as hell!"
"One item's not enough?"
"Needs to be a set!"
"First-edition collector's with bonuses, right?"
"Not enough—throw in a full OST CD!"
"Plus art prints and a poster?"
"Nice, kid, you get it!"
Beaming, Eriri patted his shoulder.
"Calling your brother 'kid'? Getting bold, huh?"
He tugged her cheek, stretching it.
"Ow, ow, ow…! Jerk, you'll pay!"
Crying, she swatted his hand until he let go, rubbing her sore cheek, hissing.
Qiong glanced between them, snickering, "Eriri, you're so easy."
"Shut up! It's love, you wouldn't get it!"
She snapped at Qiong.
"Right, I don't…" Qiong rolled her eyes, unbothered, then stepped closer, tiptoeing to meet Kagura's gaze. Staring into her emerald eyes, he hesitated, "Uh… what's up?"
"You confident you can compose a piece for me in nine days?"
"Absolutely."
"Then don't bother now…" Smiling faintly, she lowered her heels, "You'd pull all-nighters, and Mom would scold me… Just be confident."
"What's this, a test?"
"None of that. Get me something else. Good night."
With that, she turned and left.
Compared to Eriri's wild hair, Qiong's was silky smooth. Kagura, no stranger to girls, guessed she'd meticulously brushed it before stepping out, perhaps primping since he arrived.
Soon, he returned to his room from Eriri's, showered, and soaked in the tub, reminiscing about his intense evening with Kawasaki. Three and a half rounds—satisfying, yet he craved more.
"What to get Qiong…?"
In the steamy mist, leaning on an inflatable pillow, he mused.
No lingerie? Maybe men's boxers? Hahaha—
Laughing aloud, he stroked his chin, sobering, "Am I a pervert?"
Drying off, donning a bathrobe, he emerged to find his phone's notification light blinking.
Unlocking it, he saw Qiong's messages, sent ten minutes ago while he was soaking.
[I thought it over and figured I'd tell you.]
[I want a pair of nice shoes. Link's here.]
[Purchase Link]
[Nothing else, don't buy wrong. Size 22, black.]
He replied instantly: [Got it, on it!]
Qiong shot back: [Slow reply…]
[Was soaking in the tub.]
[Oh? Sleep then, it's late. Night.]
Relieved, he exited her chat, noticing messages from Kiseko and Miura.
Kiseko's were mostly thanks—nothing special. He replied casually. Miura sent three photos: her eating parfait at a station shop, Hina opposite; her crossed, shapely legs; and her sulky face at home, no reply from him.
Her captions: [Sorry… couldn't hold back today, got it on your face and made you drink…]
[Kagura… you're not mad, right? If you are, I'll treat you to parfait next time. Forgive me?]
The more he looked, the fonder he grew. Both blonde, yet Miura was sweet and obedient, Eriri a troublesome spark.
He replied: [Tasted great. Do it again.]
Miura sent a flurry of exclamation marks.
Grinning, he added: [I'm serious, please, Yumiko.]
She replied with ellipses, then a bowing apology emoji.
So, that's a yes?
He ordered Qiong's seven-centimeter block-heel shoes—block, not stiletto, as she couldn't handle thin heels. Stilettos weren't foot-friendly; even Ai had twisted her ankle.
Post-purchase, he felt something was missing. The shoe page recommended stockings—perfect with heels. Qiong had plenty, though, and said no extras…
"Ooh, these stockings…"
He spotted thigh-high black pantyhose with a floral cutout band, Gothic letters spelling: [Whentheylookatmeme]
[Failfailfailtoseeseesee]
Each leg's cutout differed, and the odd English rang familiar. Humming a fast beat, he recognized Blame You lyrics—Qiong's favorite, leaking from her earphones in the car.
The lyrics, roughly: [When others look at me]
[They fail to see love spreading]
The song captured a girl, smitten in a dance hall, blaming her crush for her fluttering heart.
The reinforced band bore the lyric cutouts, with ribbon-like spiral cutouts below, mimicking crisscross straps on the model's legs—not actual straps, just nylon artistry.
He bought three pairs each of black and white jacquard pantyhose, small size for Qiong's slender legs, plus a white pair of her requested heels.
Selecting April 24 morning delivery—Qiong's birthday, a Wednesday—she'd open them upon returning. Sayuri always handled the cake.
"Just a little extra flair," he mused, tossing his phone aside, sleeping soundly.
Next morning, spotting Kato Megumi near the school building, he greeted, "Yo, Kato, morning!"
"Morning, Sawamura-kun."
"Workplace visit's set. You, me, and Hikitani at my place—cool?"
"Of course~" She nodded, smiling, "Sorry for the trouble, going to the admin office."
"No biggie."
"What about the other thing? Feels like no updates."
"Other thing? Oh, the club?"
"Yup, that one. What's the status? You dragged me into a ghost club without introducing the members."
Kato subtly shifted her bag from right to left shoulder.