"So this is Yumiko's room~"
Mio took her time looking around. Her eyes drifted to the bookshelf—packed with fashion magazines, all of them. Made sense. Yumiko was the type who actively worked at being beautiful.
Mio, meanwhile, owed her looks entirely to a character creation screen. Very different approach.
"Sit wherever you like. Want anything to drink?"
Mio flopped down on the edge of the bed. "Cola~"
"Fine."
Yumiko didn't usually drink cola—not great for maintaining her figure. But her sister had no such concerns, so the fridge was always stocked. Another one of life's little injustices: her sister ate and drank whatever she wanted, exercised maybe twice a week if she felt like it, and somehow never changed shape. Mio was the same way. Meanwhile, Yumiko kept a mental log of every meal.
Some people were simply built different and it wasn't fair.
She grabbed a can and came back to find Mio sprawled across her bed, phone in hand, perfectly at home.
Well. She had invited her over.
Yumiko sat at her desk and listened to the rain against the window. "Hey, Mio. It's really coming down out there—you should probably just stay over tonight."
Her pulse was doing something a little strange, but she ignored it. It was just practical.
Before she could finish the thought, Mio made her voice very small and uncertain.
"If I stay over... you won't do anything weird to me in my sleep, will you? I'm a really heavy sleeper, you know. I probably wouldn't even wake up."
"Why would I do anything weird to you?!"
"Oh~. That's a shame."
She'd gone from playing the victim to visibly bored in under two seconds.
Yumiko's eye twitched.
Mio had been pulling this routine on her for a while. She used to try it on Yuigahama Yui too, but Yui had learned to fire back. Yumiko was the path of least resistance now.
For now.
"Hmph."
For just a moment—one very real moment—Yumiko genuinely considered doing something about it. Teaching this white-haired gremlin a lesson before things got any worse.
Mio must have caught something in her expression, because she sat up slightly.
"There's plenty of room," Yumiko said, keeping her voice level, "and it won't bother anyone. So you can stay."
"Since you're insisting—I'll stay and we can go all night~!"
"Say one more thing like that and I will tie you to this bed and do things to you."
It was meant as a threat.
Mio's face lit up like she'd just been handed a gift.
"...Really?"
Oh, this girl.
This was Yumiko's room. The door wasn't fully closed. There were no witnesses.
She stood up. Walked over to the bed.
Mio's expression shifted—from gleeful to something slightly more wary.
She's going to tickle me.
She was absolutely going to tickle her.
Mio had barely braced before Yumiko grabbed both her wrists and pressed her flat against the mattress.
Gold hair and silver, tangled together.
"...Yumiko," Mio said very quietly. "I was wrong."
"Hmph. Saying it means nothing. Your body can learn the lesson."
Yumiko's hand settled against Mio's side.
"W—wait—" Mio said, suddenly tense. "Don't you think our current position is a little questionable? What if someone walked in right now—"
"This is my room. No one's walking in."
Though—now that she mentioned it—had Yumiko actually locked the door?
The door opened.
Her sister stood in the doorway, mid-sentence.
"—Yumiko, Mom wants me to ask if your friend is staying for din—"
She stopped.
She took in the scene: Yumiko, on top of Mio. Both disheveled. The positioning, generously interpreted, was not innocent.
She blinked once.
Then she quietly pulled the door shut.
"Sorry! I didn't see anything!"
Yumiko came back to reality.
Her sister's misunderstanding had just escalated to a whole new level.
"...Yumiko?" Mio asked carefully. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
And then—because she was already being misunderstood anyway, so she might as well earn it—Yumiko didn't stop.
Mio had not been expecting that. She let out a sharp, startled yelp.
Down the hall, Yumiko's sister heard it, paused mid-step, and thought quietly: Kids these days are something else.
And honestly? Fair. Her little sister had always been scary when she put her mind to something. Though she had to wonder—weren't they worried about Mom hearing?
"Hey—is Yumiko's friend staying for dinner?" Her mom's voice floated up from downstairs.
She blinked, refocused. "Yeah. She is."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Oh—was that a sound just now? Did you hear something?"
"Yumiko and her friend were roughhousing." Not a single flicker of expression. "Tickling and stuff."
That's all Big Sis can do for you, Yumiko.
...