Sangenjaya.
The second floor of a yakiniku restaurant near Sancha Station was filled with the hiss and sizzle of meat grilling over charcoal.
At their table, Sakurai Saki watched Shirogane Miyuki seize control of the grill like it was a battlefield.
"You know," Sakurai said, propping his chin on one hand, "I'm actually pretty good at cooking."
Across from him, Shirogane Kei didn't spare him a drop of sympathy.
"Big Brother might be a bit dumb sometimes, but when it comes to food, he's reliable."
Flipping a thick cut of steak, Shirogane Miyuki frowned. "Kei , could you not act like I'm only good for my culinary skills?"
"Well… your grades are okay too," Kei added half-heartedly.
Miyuki scoffed. "Okay?! I'm ranked number one at Shuchiin Academy. Out of 193 students. Top. Of. The. Entire. Grade."
He straightened his posture dramatically, tongs still in hand. "I study ten hours a day, every day. That's how I got to the top. Do you even grasp what that means?"
Expression flat, Kei replied without missing a beat, "Idiot~"
Then, scolding him like a bored teacher, she added, "This is a yakiniku place, Big Brother. Keep it down."
Sakurai couldn't help it—he laughed. Genuinely.
"Hm?" Kei turned to him, curious. "What's so funny, Saki-nii?"
"Nothing," he said, shaking his head, still smiling. "I just think your sibling bond is really nice."
Something to be jealous of, really…
That warmth. That comfort. That ease of teasing and still knowing you're loved. Sakurai yearned for that kind of closeness. His current mother was kind, yes, but… she wasn't related by blood. There was still a gap he couldn't quite close.
If only I had a little sister like that…
"A good relationship, huh…" Kei echoed thoughtfully.
In truth, she was a closet brother-complex, secretly very attached to her big brother. But she was in middle school now, and being clingy at her age was way too embarrassing. She had an image to maintain.
Meanwhile, Shirogane Miyuki was quietly slicing grilled steak with scissors, plating the pieces like a doting parent feeding children.
"Kei trashes me constantly at home," he grumbled as he passed plates. "Sakurai, you have no idea. She only acts this sweet in front of you."
Blushing, Kei snapped, "Big Brother, shut up!"
Then, quickly turning to Sakurai with a smile that tried too hard to be natural, she explained, "We actually get along great at home. I don't talk bad about him."
She needed to protect her image—especially in front of him.
So, without warning, she balled her hand into a fist and gave her brother a solid punch.
Shirogane Miyuki crumpled over.
"…"
He chose silence.
Emotionally defeated, he committed fully to his role as the grill master.
Sakurai glanced at the menu prices. Not cheap. But he hadn't flinched once when offering to pay.
That part-time job really must pay well.
Sakurai had once described it casually: just charm the female customers a little, and the money would roll in like coins into a bank vault.
Shirogane knew he couldn't do that kind of work.
He could barely force a smile when he needed to.
Sakurai Saki, on the other hand, switched expressions like it was nothing.
Like now—smiling again as he calmly popped another slice of meat into his mouth.
"You're just eating it straight off the grill?" Shirogane asked. "Isn't it hot?"
"I don't have a cat's tongue," Sakurai replied.
Afraid of hot food? For a guy with powers? Don't be ridiculous.
Shirogane Miyuki almost said it—but the words got stuck halfway up his throat.
Even for someone without a sensitive tongue, eating piping hot yakiniku like that was wild.
Kei, in contrast, gently blew on her piece of meat. Her motions were careful, almost delicate.
She only took a bite after it cooled.
Watching her, Miyuki nodded to himself.
At least my sister's still normal.
—
An hour passed, and the table was almost cleared.
"Oh, by the way, Saki-nii," Kei said suddenly, "I made a new friend recently. I want to introduce her to you sometime."
"Hm? What kind of friend?" Sakurai asked, now manning the grill himself.
"Her name's Fujiwara Moyu. She's really outgoing—and she's the Student Council Vice President this year!" Kei beamed. "And I'm the accountant!"
She glanced up at him expectantly, waiting.
"That's amazing," Sakurai said softly. "But… is it tiring?"
"Nope! It's fun!" Kei said brightly, pride glowing in her eyes.
From across the table, Shirogane Miyuki blew on a piece of meat, then bit into it. The rich fat melted on his tongue.
"…Fujiwara Moyu?" he said slowly, trying to place the name. "Isn't she Fujiwara Secretary's little sister?"
"You're not wrong," Sakurai said, nodding. "The secretary's mentioned it plenty of times."
Miyuki groaned. "Right… now I remember. She's just as much of an airhead."
Just thinking about it made his head hurt.
"Saki-nii, do you know Moyu?" Shirogane Kei asked curiously.
"I've seen her a few times. She stopped by the high school division last year," Sakurai Saki replied.
Usually when she came looking for Fujiwara Chika.
Every time, it was because Fujiwara Secretary had forgotten something again.
Seems like the older sister is even more scatterbrained than the younger one.
Hearing this, Kei tilted her head, intrigued.
So Fujiwara Moyu has a big sister in the high school division?
She made a mental note: she'd probably meet this "Fujiwara Secretary" when she visited Moyu's house later that week.
What kind of person is she, I wonder?
After finishing their meal, the three left the restaurant. Since their bikes were still parked back at the Shirogane residence, they walked together under the evening sky.
When they arrived, Sakurai retrieved his bicycle.
"I'll head back now," he said, mounting it. "See you two tomorrow."
"Be careful on the way," Shirogane Miyuki said from the door.
"Yeah, Saki-nii, ride safe," Kei added with a gentle wave.
Sakurai waved back before pedaling into the quiet, cool night.
A few minutes later, he let out a breath. "Haaah…"
The early summer air had cooled to somewhere in the teens—just enough to raise goosebumps.
I forgot to buy coffee today.
Sakurai glanced around, scanning for a vending machine.
He wasn't fond of sweet drinks—bitterness suited his taste better. It wasn't about pretending to be mature; he'd just grown up on black coffee. Anything else felt cloying now.
A convenience store came into view, light spilling softly from its windows.
Outside the entrance, tucked in the shadows near the vending machine, he noticed someone.
A lone figure.
Curled up on the concrete steps like someone who had lost all hope.
They were wearing a Shuchiin Academy uniform.
Sakurai narrowed his eyes slightly.
Do I need to help every stray cat I find?
He inserted coins into the machine.
Clang.
The sound of the coffee bottle dropping echoed under the streetlamp.
The figure stirred slightly, raising her head.
In the darkness, she squinted—but couldn't see anything clearly. One of her contact lenses had fallen out earlier. Everything was a blur.
Sakurai bent down, retrieved the coffee, cracked the lid, and took a sip. The bitter liquid warmed him slightly.
He stood there for a few moments, thinking.
Then, wordlessly, he turned and stepped into the convenience store.
"Welcome!" the clerk greeted brightly.
Sakurai made a beeline for the bread rack, grabbed a small loaf, paid, and left.
Whether it was overflowing sympathy or just a moment of foolishness, he didn't care.
He simply knew one thing:
I can't ignore her.