Perhaps because of the loud BGM, Aimi, lying sprawled across the bed, didn't notice Kotomi entering the room. Her eyes remained glued to the laptop screen, her delicate fingers occasionally clicking the mouse.
That familiar posture and movents… Kotomi only needed one glance to guess what Aimi was doing.
Is Aimi playing a galga? Wait—if she's using my laptop, then she must be playing one of the galgas I stored on the D drive! Oh no, oh no!
Kotomi broke out in a cold sweat as she realized the gravity of the situation. Seventy percent of the galgas she had stored were those with peculiar thes and content.
If Aimi accidentally stumbled upon those peculiar galgas and worse, discovered the fully unlocked CG galleries from Kotomi's playthroughs…
Ugh… my image as the perfect big sister will completely collapse!
Anxiously, Kotomi abandoned her plan to tickle Aimi's foot while she was distracted. Instead, she moved quickly, her heart pounding.
Though the BGM suggested Aimi hadn't yet entered any questionable plot points, Kotomi had to stop her before things went downhill!
After all, while she'd promised to give Aimi the laptop, she'd forgotten to delete the contents of the D drive when she handed it over. Usually, Kotomi would ticulously ensure her browsing history and files were squeaky clean, even going so far as to use incognito mode for everything.
"Aimi, what are you playing?!"
Her sudden exclamation startled Aimi, snapping her out of her imrsion in the ga.
"Ah! Onee-chan? You're finally back… Phew, you scared !"
Seeing Kotomi standing by the bed, Aimi clutched her chest and exhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing heart.
Kotomi, on the other hand, found unexpected satisfaction in Aimi's reaction. Smirking mischievously, she set down the two shopping bags she was carrying and pounced onto the bed, wrapping her arms around Aimi.
"Oh-ho~ Finished your howork already? Playing gas while lying on my bed, huh? Aren't you bold? Better be careful or Mom might confiscate this laptop!"
Kotomi teased, pinning Aimi beneath her as she rested her chin gently on Aimi's hair. She hadn't seen Aimi for nearly a day and a half, and truth be told, she'd missed her.
"I finished my howork ages ago! Even as a third-year, we don't get that much weekend howork. It's important to balance work and play!" Aimi leaned against Kotomi's embrace, inhaling the sweet scent wafting from her sister.
But the thought of Kotomi spending the night away—especially with gumi—brought a flare of indignation. Like a kitten bristling in frustration, Aimi suddenly bit down lightly on Kotomi's finger.
"Hey! Aimi, why'd you bite ?!"
"I'm mad at you! You didn't co ho last night, stayed out with gumi, and what's worse, why do you two always miss the last train? I seriously suspect that she does it on purpose! Next ti you go out with her, I'm coming too!"
Aimi puffed out her cheeks in mock anger. The thought of her sister spending the night alone with gumi gnawed at her. Even though she trusted gumi wouldn't overstep, the re idea made her grind her teeth.
"Hey, gumi didn't miss the last train on purpose! The Keiyo Line had an early departure yesterday; it was completely unavoidable!" Kotomi explained hastily.
"Then, when you stayed at the hotel last night, did you share the sa room? Did she… do anything to you?"
Despite her rational suspicions being addressed, Aimi still narrowed her eyes in disbelief.
Kotomi imdiately recalled the events of the previous night. Blushing furiously at the mories, she forced herself to stay composed as she answered, "Yes, we stayed in the sa room. But we didn't do anything! Absolutely nothing!"
Sothing had happened. A lot, in fact. But admitting it to Aimi? Out of the question.
Besides, Kotomi wasn't sure how Aimi would react to the truth. No way she'd confess now!
"Really? Nothing happened? Then why didn't you book separate rooms? Couldn't the hotel spare another room?"
Aimi's relentless questioning made Kotomi's nerves fray. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself before answering confidently:
"Of course we stayed in the sa room—it was a twin room. What, do you think twin rooms are just for decoration?"
Kotomi employed a mix of feigned calm, deflection, and counterquestioning—a technique she had perfected for handling interrogations like this.
To her relief, Aimi seed to accept her answer. Upon hearing that it was a twin room, Aimi imdiately relaxed, even flashing a triumphant smile.
"Ohhh, a twin room? Well, that's a relief. I knew it! gumi acts all high and mighty, but when it cos to being alone with you, she wouldn't dare cross the line. See? She didn't even dare book a double bed! Hah!"
Looking at Aimi's smug expression, Kotomi imagined an invisible tail wagging furiously behind her. Successfully dodging the bullet, she decided not to say more—silence was often the safest option.
Instead, she pinched Aimi's cheeks playfully to shift the conversation. "So you've been imagining all sorts of not-so-innocent scenarios while I was away? Let's see what ga you were playing."
"Ugh—how'd you know I was playing a galga? I was facing away from you!"
"Silly girl, after playing so many galgas, I can recognize the posture and hand movents of soone engrossed in one. Also, why'd you swipe my mouse from the desk?"
Aimi sheepishly giggled. "The touchpad is annoying to use, so I borrowed your mouse. I was planning to put it back before you got ho."
"You're not comfortable with touchpads? I'll get you a mouse on Amazon later—it's on ."
Kotomi waved the Bluetooth mouse in her hand, waking the laptop from sleep mode. Seeing the galga displayed on-screen—FLOWERS: Le volu sur printemps—she let out a deep sigh.
"I can't tell if I should feel relieved… or worried."
Compared to the peculiar galgas stored on her D drive, FLOWERS was ta in both its story and visuals. Its serene and refreshing atmosphere was a relief for Kotomi.
At least she didn't have to worry about those peculiar galgas ruining her image as the good big sister.
However, when she rembered that FLOWERS was centered around the beautiful relationships between girls, Kotomi couldn't help but feel uneasy again.
That night, Aimi's words and actions were still fresh in Kotomi's mory. Though she had decided how to respond, she had yet to find the right opportunity to have that conversation with Aimi.
What if FLOWERS ended up giving Aimi more ideas?
Kotomi sighed again, ntally berating herself for not deleting those galgas from the D drive before handing over the laptop.
"Onee-chan, is sothing bothering you?" Aimi noticed the change in Kotomi's mood and asked.
"Yeah, I'm regretting sothing."
"Regretting what?"
"I regret not cleaning out the galgas on my laptop before giving it to you. Total oversight on my part~" Kotomi replied, half-jokingly.
"Why delete them? Don't delete them! I actually like playing galgas," Aimi protested.
"I rember you saying you weren't into galgas before."
"Well, can't I get into them starting with FLOWERS?"
"Sure, sure. Play all you want. But I'm telling you now—there are a few I've marked that you absolutely cannot play!"
"Huh? Why not?"
"Because I said so! Are you going to listen to or not?"
"Uh… Fine. I'll just stick to the FLOWERS series," Aimi reluctantly agreed, taking the mouse from Kotomi and continuing the ga.
["Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I awkwardly forced a feeble smile."]
["-Besides being a religious institution, this school has another defining feature."]
["A room adorned with enormous mirrors, the kind only seen in films, equipped with barre rails to maintain balance during practice, and then there's this ridiculous outfit—"]
["???: 'Oh wow… Classical ballet costus really push the boundaries, huh? Don't they, Suoh?'"]
["-Indeed, as she said, this school's other notable feature is its classical ballet classes."]
As Aimi advanced the story, she looked up at Kotomi, who had idly sprawled beside her to watch the ga. After so hesitation, Aimi asked, "Onee-chan, can you dance classical ballet?"
"Ballet? Unfortunately, no. Neither classical nor modern ballet. Besides, don't you already know whether I can dance or not? You've seen grow up. When have I ever taken ballet lessons?" Kotomi replied, playfully poking Aimi's cheek.
In truth, Kotomi's mother, Akina, had once considered enrolling her in ballet.
That idea wasn't entirely out of the blue. Back then, whenever the TV channel switched from cartoons to ballet performances in the afternoon, little Kotomi's eyes would light up.
Compared to ballet, cartoons were supposed to be far more appealing to kids.
Akina had fully expected Kotomi to demand a channel change, especially since she hadn't yet learned how to use the remote herself.
"Kotomi, want to switch to another channel? I think Kan Rider Black is on now—wait, huh?"
To Akina's surprise, little Kotomi sat there, wide-eyed and utterly engrossed in the ballet on TV. Her excited expression, her sparkling eyes, and the way her tiny hands fidgeted all betrayed her fascination.
At first, Akina thought it was just Kotomi's novelty at seeing sothing new.
But over the following weeks, whenever ballet aired, Kotomi's excitent would peak, even more so than with her usual cartoons. She would sit as close to the screen as possible, almost pressing her face against the TV.
If Akina even pretended to change the channel, Kotomi, who could barely form sentences, would roll around on the couch and let out pitiful wails like a wounded kitten.
This unusual fascination led Akina to believe her eldest daughter had a natural affinity for ballet.
Perhaps Kotomi was destined to beco a swan on stage, dazzling the world with her elegance!
Excited by this idea, Akina took little Kotomi to a ballet academy in Chiba City. After a professional evaluation by the teachers, however, they ca to a very different conclusion:
Kotomi had zero interest in ballet as an art form. She was simply fascinated by the sight of beautiful girls in ballet leotards.
"Well, yeah. Forget ballet—I rember every ti I wanted to play outside with you as a kid, you'd co up with a thousand excuses to stay indoors," Aimi said with a sigh.
"D-Did I?" Kotomi replied, slightly embarrassed.
"I want to see you in a ballet leotard!" Aimi suddenly blurted, as if she had made up her mind.
The declaration startled Kotomi so much she thought she had misheard.
"W-What? A ballet leotard? Are you serious?"
"Even if you don't know how to dance ballet, I still really want to see you in one! Especially with white tights and those ballet shoes… Eh-heh-heh," Aimi giggled, her expression gleeful.
"Wipe the drool off your face first…" Kotomi deadpanned, covering her face in exasperation.
When most people expressed desires like this, they at least tried to be subtle. But Aimi? She went straight for the jugular with zero hesitation.
"You in a leotard… That's my lifelong dream!"
"Well, then I'll just have to end your life early," Kotomi retorted, flicking Aimi's forehead.
Dinner was a hearty al of lamb stew served with both white rice and thick noodles. Kotomi enjoyed three helpings of each.
Afterward, feeling delightfully full, she wanted nothing more than to lie lazily in bed, playing mobile gas or watching ani. The thought of finishing the Chainsaw Man outline she'd planned to work on? Completely forgotten.
But before indulging in sloth, she needed a bath.
As Kotomi undressed in the bathroom, she noticed sothing strange. The underwear she was wearing wasn't her usual pair—a blue-and-white design featuring a little penguin on the back.
Instead, it was a pale gray pair made of silky fabric.
"Wait… This isn't mine… Oh no! This is gumi's! How did I end up wearing hers?! Don't tell … she's wearing mine?!"
Kotomi's face turned beet red as the realization hit her. Frantically, she tried to piece together when and how the mix-up had occurred.
The answer ca to her quickly: last night.
All their clothes had been scattered across the floor…
This morning, when they hastily picked up their clothes to get dressed, they must have accidentally switched.
"I ended up wearing gumi's… And she's wearing mine…!" Kotomi murmured, her blush spreading down to her neck.
Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone to text gumi and ask.
But before she could, a ssage from gumi popped up on her screen.
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