5 Step Sisters Vol. 1 Chapter 4

Fourth Daughter / Fuka Miyanaga

Three days later. The morning of the last Thursday in April.

"Good morning! Yesterday's taco rice was delicious too, Onii-san...!"

As soon as we ran into each other in the washroom, Mio spoke to me with more excitement than usual.

Even while I replied, "Morning, Mio," she was fidgeting restlessly.

"The seasoning for every dish was exquisite... Onii-san, you really can make anything, can't you?"

"I wouldn't say anything, but I'm happy to hear you say that."

Then, Mio tilted her head, looking slightly anxious.

"But is it really not a bother for you?"

Having finished brushing my teeth, I rinsed out my mouth and shook my head side to side.

"Not at all. I'm making my own portion anyway, and making extra expands the range of recipes I can use, so it's fun."

That was my heartfelt, honest opinion.

When making food for just one person, there are inevitably restrictions on what you can cook, and the need to use up ingredients arises. It probably depends on the person, but I might actually prefer cooking for a larger number of people.

Having received a good reaction with the omurice, I had decided that very day to regularly make dinner for the sisters. Doing it every day would naturally arouse suspicion, so the frequency would be twice a week. After consulting with Mio, we decided I would prepare meals on Mondays and Wednesdays.

Wiping my mouth with a towel, I asked something that had been on my mind.

"By the way, do you have any favorite dishes, Mio?"

She had sent me a message before, but she hadn't let me know her own favorite food. She really is modest, or perhaps I should say humble...

That is a virtue of hers, but I also find it a little sad. Even though she's bad at lying, Mio is cooperating with me behind the other sisters' backs, and I wanted to give something back to her too.

"My favorite dish, is it?"

Saying that, Mio stepped forward and washed her hands as if she just remembered to do so. A faintly red face was reflected in the mirror, and her mouth moved slightly, mumbling something.

"Umm, tarako pasta or something..."

Hoh, I nodded in acknowledgment.

"Tarako pasta, huh? That sounds good. Then I'll go buy some tarako next time."

"You'll go buy... tarako? Is that right?"

Mio tilted her head as if she had heard some bizarre statement.

"Yeah. Mixing sauce packets or eating out is fine too, but making it yourself by tossing the ingredients together is delicious."

"I see?"

Mio looked back at me. Her eyes looked as if she understood, yet completely didn't understand at the same time. For Mio, who seems to be bad at cooking (though not to Chinatsu's extent), this appeared to be uncharted territory.

"You don't dislike shiso leaves or squid, do you?"

"I-I like them. I love them all!"

She seemed to really like it, as Mio nodded her head vigorously with sparkling eyes. In the process, water droplets from her hands flew onto my sleeve. Being told "I like it" repeatedly by a girl with a bright red face made me feel a bit strange, but...

But still, tarako pasta. For side dishes, maybe a seaweed salad, and a seafood soup might be good too. A dining table centered around seafood.

Because I was getting carried away like that, Mio's next words stabbed me right in the chest.

"...I've been scared of you lately, Onii-san."

"Eh."

It was a shock like being slugged in the side of the head. Since I thought I had broken the ice reasonably well with Mio at least, I took a heavy blow from those words.

Was my attitude bad, or my language too rough? I desperately want her to tell me; I'll fix it immediately.

However, it seemed Mio didn't mean it in that sense.

"Because you've grabbed me by the stomach..."

Mio lightly stroked her stomach area and smiled bashfully. She was surprisingly cute, so I could only reply with an "Oh."

Feeling somewhat restless, I averted my gaze, and immediately stiffened my body.

The washroom door was slightly open. From there, four eyes were peeking in.

"Y-You guys..."

Noticing my face twitching, Mio also let out a small "Ah."

Entering the room by opening the door without looking apologetic in the slightest were Fuka and Sorane in their uniforms. As soon as she closed the door behind her back, Fuka spoke in a subdued volume.

"We heard that exchange just now."

"Yep! We heard it!"

"W-What are you talking about?"

In contrast to me, whose eyes were swimming as much as a swimming competition, Fuka pointed her index finger at me triumphantly.

"The cooking last night and three days ago—it was you who made it, wasn't it, Onii-sama?"

Ugh, my breath caught in my throat.

The two of them had thoroughly eavesdropped on the exchange between Mio and me. Now that it had come to this, it would be difficult to talk my way out of it. If anything, trying to cover it up weirdly would be scary later.

Well, I had thought it would be exposed sooner or later. After all, if someone peeked into the kitchen while I was cooking, I'd be busted in one shot. It's just a matter of that time arriving sooner than I expected.

"...That's right."

When I admitted it because I had no choice, Fuka and Sorane looked at each other and then smiled brightly.

"Please rest assured. We will not tell Chinatsu-oneesama."

"Yeah, won't tell! Because it was yummy!"

My thoughts on how to survive this situation were blown away by Sorane's praise. I really am simple-minded.

"Was it that delicious?"

"It was suuuuuper delicious. Are you a genius?"

"That's too much praise."

However, I didn't feel bad about it.

"Hey, make Sorane's favorite thing next time!"

"Eh."

The one who leaked a voice wasn't me, but Mio behind me.

Looking back, she had both hands over her mouth as if she surprised herself. But that was unmistakably a voice of protest. It was a rare display of desire from Mio, who always considers others first.

Of course, I have no intention of ignoring that clumsy sign. I knelt on one knee in front of Sorane and replied.

"Sure. But is the time after next okay?"

After all, for the next time, I promised to make Mio's favorite tarako pasta.

Of course, I'm happy that Sorane praised my cooking, but I'm not such a brute that I would neglect a promise I just made.

Sorane probably didn't grasp the depth of those thoughts, but she nodded obediently.

"Yup! Okay!"

"So, what does Sorane want to eat?"

"Sushi!"

"...Would hand-rolled sushi be acceptable?"

"Acceptable!"

Thank goodness. I was nearly about to go on an apprenticeship journey for about ten years.

As I was stroking my chest in relief, Mio tugged on the sleeve of my uniform.

Looking back over my shoulder, Mio, with her eyebrows slanted downwards in an 'eight' shape (八), had her eyes squeezed shut, her face dyed red like a boiled octopus, and her small mouth opening and closing repeatedly. If I left her alone, she looked like she might start shooting steam.

"Onii-san."

"Yeah."

"Onii-san...!"

"H-Hey, it's stretching."

Mio called my name over and over in a voice that contained embarrassment but also sounded like she was sulking.

It felt somewhat ticklish, and I didn't know how to respond either. Fuka, who had been watching us silently as if assessing us, placed a hand on her cheek.

"Regarding the cooking as well... I have re-evaluated you, Onii-sama. To think you had become this close with Mio-oneesama before we knew it."

"Was my evaluation so low that I needed to be re-evaluated?"

"Yes. After all, you assaulted Oneesama immediately after meeting her. It is impressive you recovered from that point."

When told that, I couldn't utter a sound. As I fell silent, Fuka floated a mature smile unlike a middle schooler.

"Chinatsu-oneesama will become suspicious soon, so we will take our leave now. It is fine that you get along well, Mio-oneesama, but please wrap it up quickly, okay?"

"Y-Yeah."

As if finally returning to her senses, Mio let go of her hand. My sleeve was saved too.

Since the two of them left, I finally felt like I could breathe.

"...Those two were surprisingly easy to talk to."

Because of Chinatsu's watchful eye, I had barely had a chance to speak with Fuka or Sorane until now. But the crisp-speaking Fuka and the friendly, bright Sorane were more approachable than I thought.

"Yes. Both of them are good girls."

After giving her seal of approval, Mio added.

"Besides, I think they were interested in you from before, Onii-san. Considering Chinatsu nee-san's feelings, they just couldn't get close easily..."

When Mio said that, for some reason, she had a pained expression. I felt like she was harboring something more than the simple meaning that Chinatsu hated and was wary of me.

Before I could ask deeply, Mio, tending to look down, opened her mouth.

"That's why, umm, I... want Chinatsu nee-san and Onii-san to get along someday too."

"At this point, that's impossible even if heaven and earth flip over, though."

Even when I joked, Mio didn't even chuckle.

"I want us to eat together with you too, Onii-san. And talk in the living room. Not hiding like this, but properly. ...Because we became a family, after all."

With clumsy words, Mio conveyed her earnest feelings. I swallowed my breath and simply listened.

I didn't know Mio felt that way. But thinking back on it now, Mio had looked like she wanted to say something since the day we first met. I had simply overlooked Mio's feelings.

"Thanks, Mio."

Including an apology in it, I expressed my gratitude.

I haven't thought of a concrete way to close the distance with Chinatsu yet—but at the very least, I won't say anything pessimistic in front of Mio ever again.

"I'll do my best. So will you watch over me for a while?"

"...Yes!"

At my pathetic words, Mio smiled happily.

Somehow, I ended up saying something unlike me. Feeling a bit embarrassed, I returned to the topic.

"By the way. Do you think Fuka and Sorane can keep it a secret?"

Honestly, I was incredibly anxious.

There might be times they let it slip inadvertently, and if a suspicious Chinatsu asked, Sorane seems like she would answer honestly. Or rather, maybe the very concept of lying to cover it up doesn't exist for her.

It would be one thing if I revealed it myself after making some progress, but a development where I get busted due to my little sisters' slip of the tongue looks bad no matter how you slice it.

Mio opened her mouth with a quite severe expression.

"............Le."

"Le?"

"Le-Let's believe."

I thought that Mio, who can make the judgment to believe for now no matter how reckless it is, really is a kind girl.

◇◇◇

It happened after school that day.

When I returned home, a pair of black one-strap shoes was sitting neatly in the entranceway.

"Are these Fuka's shoes?"

Lately, I have gradually gotten used to the sight of women's shoes lined up here. Though, if I let my guard down, it still surprises me.

I took off my sneakers, stopped by the restroom to wash my hands, and went up to the second floor. It was just before 5:00 PM. I intended to study for a bit before making dinner.

However, not long after I sat at my desk...

"...Ugh, it's so noisy."

I placed my mechanical pencil, which had barely moved, onto my workbook and looked up at the ceiling in annoyance.

The reason being, for the past few minutes, the floor above had been incredibly loud. Thump, bang, patter-patter-patter. I assumed they were footsteps, but they were so racket-like that my concentration was being shaved away.

Since this is the second floor, the one making the noise was undoubtedly Fuka on the third floor.

Being a middle schooler, perhaps she was playing some game that involved moving her body. Even if I wanted to warn her, the rule that the third floor is strictly prohibited to men was a bottleneck.

Just as I grimaced and reached into my school backpack to take out my earphones...

THUUUD──!

An exceptionally loud sound echoed from overhead.

After that, the upstairs floor, which had been so noisy, fell completely silent. Stopping my hands, I looked up at the ceiling fearfully.

...Is this okay?

I don't know what is happening on the third floor. But if Fuka has collapsed alone and is in a situation where she can't call for help—

I hesitated for only a few seconds. I dashed out of my room and set foot on the stairs leading to the third floor.

"...Sorry, Chinatsu."

Apologizing just in case, I stepped forward. From there, I ran up at full speed. If a worst-case scenario had occurred, every second and minute would be fatal.

The reason I hesitated in the hallway was that I didn't know which room was Fuka's.

But looking closely, cute handmade room plates hung on the three doors. Written in the alphabet on wooden plates were the names of Chinatsu and Sorane, Mio and Karin, and Fuka, respectively. ...I see, so this was the room allocation.

Since the footsteps had resonated from right above my head, Fuka must definitely be in her own room. Judging from the floor plan, it was a slightly cramped six-tatami mat room, same as mine—

deducing that, I threw the door open with force.

"Fuka! Are you okay!?"

For a moment, I froze because the interior of the room was completely different from when I knew it.

A pink bed with storage, and a study desk by the window. On top of the closet was an aroma diffuser spreading a sweet scent.

Perhaps Fuka's taste had been displayed without reserve; the wallpaper had been replaced with pink, lace curtains hung in the windows, and stuffed bears and rabbits were lined up here and there. The room, which used to be dreary, had now completely become a girl's room.

In the center of that alien space was Fuka, sitting on a fluffy white carpet.

"I-I am fine..."

Saying "Ouch, ouch" while rubbing her lower back, Fuka was dressed differently than usual. Her softly wavy hair was tied in a ponytail, and she was wearing a T-shirt and shorts that looked easy to move in. Wireless earphones were fitted in her small ears.

It seemed she had fallen on her backside. She must have been writhing in pain and unable to move for a while.

"Don't push yourself. Are you okay? Should we go to the hospital?"

"I told you, you are exaggerating. Or rather—Onii-sama? Was there not a promise that the third floor is off-limits?"

Stared up with reproachful eyes, I sighed.

"It couldn't be helped, this was an emergency. I thought you might have collapsed."

"D-Did you perhaps eavesdrop on the sound of my footsteps?"

"Eavesdrop? I could hear it even if I didn't want to... It was thump-thump-bang-bang from above; it was nothing short of noisy."

When I said that in an exasperated tone, Fuka obediently apologized.

"That is... I am terribly sorry. I lacked consideration."

To Fuka, who had become dejected, I silently offered my hand.

Fuka timidly took that hand and stood up. I didn't see anything strange in her movement. Just as she insisted, she seemed fine.

"It's fine. So, what were you doing?"

Figuring I at least had the right to ask, I asked her directly.

"...It is a secret from Oneesama and the others, you know?"

"Depends on the content."

"Please go back to your room."

"Okay, okay, I'll keep it a secret."

Fuka looked suspicious, but eventually, she let out a small sigh.

"Could you please watch from the corner for a moment?"

While not really understanding, I stepped back near the door, and Fuka operated the smartphone she had placed on the desk. Then, standing in the center of the room, she took a deep breath.

In the next moment, Fuka began to manipulate her limbs with sharp, modulated movements.

Perhaps conscious of my gaze, her movements were stiff at first. But that tension gradually melted away.

She would trot with short steps, then stop abruptly and strike a pose. Spreading her arms at an angle, she gave a light wink. Placing her hands on her slender waist, she did a slow twirl... She isn't that tall, but since Fuka has long, slender limbs, every single movement stole my gaze.

"Hah, huff, whew..."

Breathing with her shoulders, Fuka was marking out the steps.

She probably isn't exceptionally skilled. If anything, she might be on the clumsy and unskillful side. But because of her earnestness, I found myself unable to look away.

Watching Fuka like that, my eyes widened with an Ah. Somehow, I felt like I recognized that movement just now.

It's that. Dokkoisho, dokkoisho, Soran, Soran...

"I see, so you were practicing Soran Bushi."

I intended to say it to myself, but it seemed to reach Fuka's ears.

Fuka's shoulders twitched with a start, and she whipped around while taking out her earphones. A single bead of sweat rolled down the contour of her beautiful cheek.

"It ain't Soran Bushiii! I'm practicin' a dance here, ya know!"

...Hmm?

When I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, Fuka covered her mouth in a panic.

"No, that move just now was definitely pulling a net with herring in it."

"I-I said, I ain't doin' no herring fishing—I mean, I am not. That was a legitimate dance."

Watching Fuka laugh "Ohoho" as if to smooth things over, I arrived at the true identity of the strangeness I felt a few seconds ago.

...Wasn't Fuka speaking with an incredibly heavy accent just now?

And I feel like it was a dialect cultivated in the central part of Shizuoka Prefecture. Shizuoka is long horizontally, so even broadly speaking, different dialects are used in the Eastern, Central, Western, and Ikawa regions. The scary thing is that few people are self-aware that they are speaking a dialect.

I've heard terrifying stories of people going to Tokyo with faces saying, "Eh? Shizuoka doesn't have a dialect, right? We speak standard Japanese easily!" only to meet with a terrible fate.

There is a particular quirk in intonation, and apparently, you can easily spot a Shizuoka native if you make them say "City Hall," "Clothes," or "Shoes." It's scary, like a modern-day fumi-e (loyalty test).

Come to think of it, Natsuki-san is from Shizuoka. It wouldn't be strange if the dialect rubbed off on her daughter Fuka from Natsuki-san or her relatives on her mother's side.

"Ehh... That was a daaance?"

When I cast a suspicious eye at her, a flush of vermilion rose on Fuka's face as she wiped it with a towel.

"It can't be helped, ya know!(Shonnai sho) I(uchi) suck at dancin'! But(daken) I wanna get better!"

Translating that, it means: "It can't be helped, right? I'm bad at dancing. But I want to become good at it!"

I see, placing a hand on my chin, I pointed it out.

"Fuka. —You're creating a character, aren't you?"

Jolt, the thin shoulders in front of me stiffened.

"N-N-No, that is impossible..."

"Normally, you speak with a super heavy accent, don't you?"

"That is, due to Grandma's influence..."

It was just as I thought. When she gets flustered or angry and her emotions run high, she probably reverts to her natural tone.

"I think your natural tone is fine, though."

Fuka bit her lip and muttered under her breath.

"B-Because, with a character that gets buried among the sisters... I can't become..."

She was saying something in a small voice, but I couldn't hear it well.

However, I had thought her lady-like gestures, way of speaking, and mature attitude seemed somewhat artificial... So that was the reason.

Wanting to draw out her natural expression even more, I scratched my head apologetically.

"My bad. Don't chinpurikaeru so much." (TL Notes: Don't get so angry/sulk).

"I-I ain't chinpurikaeru-ing!"

Puffing out her cheeks, Fuka turned her face away abruptly. As I watched her with eyes like one observing an animal doing something amusing, Fuka looked up at me with upturned eyes.

"Hey, can you dance, Nii-chan?"

"Dance? Well, I guess I can."

Replying casually, I realized with an Ah. I was dragged into it and the Shizuoka dialect came out too...

Then Fuka's reaction was dramatic.

"P-Please show me!"

"O-Oh. Sure."

Shizuoka dialect and lady-like speech were getting mixed up, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Well then, I shall play it once."

Picking up her smartphone, Fuka played the video next to me. Our shoulders were touching quite a bit, but since she didn't seem to mind, I decided not to dampen the mood.

What started playing seemed to be an MV for a female idol unit. Five girls wearing costumes with lots of ribbons and frills were striking poses.

They wander into a forest, discover a house made of sweets, and frolic around. But they get found by a witch, run away, get caught, and just when you think they'll repel her by borrowing the power of animals through song and dance, the witch is moved, and they make up... Speaking broadly, that was the content. Judging from the cute tune, the dance, and the worldview of the MV, it felt like a truly orthodox idol group.

In the chorus, they performed a cute, romantic, and synchronized dance to match the tune that changed like magic. At first, your eyes go to the superficial cuteness, but even to an amateur eye, you could tell the level of both the singing and dancing was high.

"You know them too, right Onii-sama? It is the idol group 'Lie♡Lie's' new song, 'Sweet Pentagon'!"

"Ah, I feel like I've heard of it."

"Here, here! The movement in the chorus is the Delicious Pop Dance. It is too cute, is it not!?"

"Ah, the famous..."

Even though I'm completely unfamiliar with trendy music, I just played along. Lie-Lie? Is Delicious Dance tasty? I didn't feel like I could ask Fuka, whose cheeks were flushed, at this late stage.

While doing that, the roughly three-minute MV ended.

"That was a good MV. Alriiight then, I'll be going now."

When I tried to return to my room, the back of my shirt was pulled with all her might.

"Come on, get ready! I'm gonna play the chorus!"

Pushed in the back, before I knew it, I was made to stand alone on the special stage known as the carpet.

Eh... Am I really going to dance that just now? Isn't that an impossible task for an amateur?

While I was thinking that, Fuka pressed her finger on the smartphone, so the music started playing.

Confused, I tried striking the pose from just before the chorus for now.

What joy is there in sticking my butt out backward, putting one hand on my chin, and looking up with upturned eyes? Did I commit a grave sin in a past life?

As I made a face of complete emptiness, Fuka cheered.

"It's good! Baka kawaii!" (It's good! It's ridiculously cute!)

I should introduce a recommended ophthalmologist to this girl.

Ignoring my glaring eyes, the melody of the chorus started flowing. Now that it's come to this, I have no choice but to try it for the time being.

However, upon actually trying it, it was more difficult than I thought.

Umm, what? This goes here? That goes there? Hmm, what was the choreography here?

I thought I could move better than Fuka, but that perception seems to have been quite naive.

Probably, I was moving even worse than I imagined myself to be. Watching me, Fuka forgot to stop the music and screamed while her face twitched.

"Ozo!"

...By the way, "ozo" in Shizuoka dialect means "lame" or "uncool." People also say "ozoi." It definitely doesn't mean "ozomashii" (disgusting/repulsive).

"You said you could dance! I thought you'd be a little better than that!"

Fuka shrugged as if to say, Good grief, I am disappointed in you.

"This is hard. It looks like they're moving simply, but they're doing complex movements in a short time."

"!"

When I said that, Fuka jumped up and down pyon pyon as if she had gained an ally.

"Right! Right! It's hard, ain't it? It's super amazing so I wanted to dance it, and I practiced a ton. But despite that, I ain't gettin' better. Especially here!"

Getting excited and going full Shizuoka dialect, Fuka tried to reproduce the movement of the chorus.

It was the one she called the Delicious Pop Dance or whatever. After a gesture of licking a candy and writhing in its extraordinary sweetness, they do a spin on one leg. The idols on the screen pulled it off lightly despite their restrictive-looking costumes.

However, the moment Fuka in front of me stood on one leg, I thought, Dangerous. Her core is wobbling. At that rate, she'll fall before completing the rotation—

"Ah."

Immediately after I thought that, Fuka's right foot slipped smoothly on the flooring, and her body tilted drastically.

"Watch out!"

I had reached out reflexively. I pulled Fuka close and caught her with my own body.

I felt my blood run cold. While looking down at Fuka's face, which was frozen in my arms, I let out a small breath.

"You really are clumsy..."

Fuka, eyes wide open, stared at me without even twitching. Even so, she's light. According to the conversations I hear from the living room, it seems she always gets seconds of my cooking, though.

"I bet you fell in the same spot earlier too, didn't you?"

"Tha..."

Tha? When I tilted my head, Fuka bolted upright with force.

"T-That ain't true, I just messed up a little bit just now...!"

"Hmm. Well, let's just say that's the case."

"That is the case!"

I showed both palms to Fuka, who retorted with increasing defensiveness.

"Okay, okay, I get it. But the carpet is dangerous, so I think you should lay down a designated mat or something."

It seems I conveyed that I was just worried about injuries. Perhaps her momentum was dampened, as Fuka immediately looked down.

"But, Mom and my sisters might find out..."

The reason is unclear, but she seems to want to stubbornly hide her dance practice.

"Ah, but..."

"Hmm?"

When I tilted my head, she looked up at me with eyes full of expectation.

"If it's okay to leave a mat in Nii-chan's room."

"...You don't mean you're going to practice in my room?"

"Yup!"

It was an unnecessarily good reply.

"Because I ain't banned from goin' to the second floor, right?"

Hmm, I thought. If I refuse this, she intends to practice in her own room on the third floor like today, but my room might be better than her falling where no one can see her.

However, bringing a teenage sister into my room is somewhat bad for appearances. We are step-siblings, so there should be an appropriate sense of distance.

I think that, but Fuka says she doesn't want our mother or sisters to know. That's precisely why she is relying on me, whom she isn't even that close with. Treating such a stepsister coldly is also something I hesitate to do.

After thoughts swirled without an answer—in the end, I folded.

"If no one is home, then well, I guess it's okay..."

While I was breaking into a cold sweat wondering if even phrasing it that way was risky, Fuka looked happy, saying "Really?" The atmosphere made it hard to refuse now.

"Thanks, Nii-chan!"

Smiling and thanking me, Fuka turned her back bashfully. Her white nape was dazzling to my eyes.

"Is practice over for now?"

"Yeah. I'm tired, so I'll leave it be."

"I see. Also, your Shizuoka dialect is coming out again."

"Ngi!"

Groaning, Fuka trembled her back for a while before turning around. By that time, she was wearing her usual—lady-like, elegant smile.

"...Ufufu. Onii-sama. Whatever do you mean by 'Shizo~ka' dialect?"

"You just said 'Shizo~ka'."

Piki, piki-piki, the corners of Fuka's eyes twitched.

"...WHAT, SHIZUOKA, DIALECT, ARE, YOU, TALKING, ABOUT, I, WONDER?"

Unwilling to admit defeat, Fuka spoke her lady-like words like a vocal exercise.

It was getting funny, and just when I was about to throw another teasing remark at her—

"I'm hoome!"

Giku, Fuka and I stiffened our shoulders simultaneously.

The voice heard from the floor below was Sorane's. Even so, her voice is loud, but if Sorane has come home from school, that means next to her is—

As if responding to my bad premonition, the sound of a single person's footsteps climbing the stairs echoed.

Fuka, turning pale, pushed my shoulder vigorously over and over.

"H-Hide quickly!"

"E-Even if you tell me to hide, where?"

"Under the bed or something!"

"No matter how you think about it, with my size, I can't fit! H-Hey, don't kick my butt!"

While we were pushing and shoving like that, the footsteps approached.

"W-Wa-wa-wa..."

Anticipating the worst encounter, Fuka's eyes were dyed in despair.

But our prediction was wrong. Chinatsu didn't open the door rudely; instead, she stood in front of the door and called out.

"Fuka, are you there? Sorane and I bought cheese pudding, do you want to eat?"

Covered in sweat, Fuka replied in a loud voice.

"I-I shall go! Right now!"

"You don't have to panic so much, we bought enough for everyone, okay?"

Laughing exasperatedly, Chinatsu's footsteps faded away again.

Waiting for that, Fuka and I sank onto the carpet and exhaled deeply, as if squeezing all the air out of our lungs.

My lifespan definitely shortened... As I wiped my sweat, Fuka, who was similarly exhausted and limp, said:

"Onii-sama, please return to the second floor quickly. If we were seen in a situation like this, Chinatsu-oneesama would kill us, no joke."

"...Yeah."

I don't want to die for a reason like that.

Putting my hands on my knees, I stood up and tried to leave the room.

"Onii-sama. Umm, just one last thing."

Fuka called out to stop me as I opened the door, and I looked back only with my head.

"I'm not dancing anymore."

"Not that... What kind of things are high school boys happy to receive?"

At the abrupt question, I scratched my cheek.

"Let's see, maybe a workbook?"

I answered genuinely, but she sighed at me.

"Could it be, are you going to give me a present?"

"As if that would happen."

As expected, the stepsisters other than Mio were cold to me.

I felt somewhat sad. Finally, I wanted to hear the local dialect one more time.

"Then, here's some advice from me. For Soran Bushi, keeping a good tempo is important."

"I told you! It ain't Soran Bushi!"

The dialect girl, face red with anger, lunged at me, but when I closed the door, she didn't chase after me.

Of course, it's because if we played tag, Chinatsu would get suspicious. I'm relieved she retained that much composure.

"Still, dance, huh."

I wonder if a dance assignment was given in P.E. class?

If so, the practice in my room will probably end in a few weeks at most. Maybe I didn't need to worry so much. Thinking such things, I went down the stairs on stealthy feet and returned to my own room on the second floor.

By the way, Chinatsu hadn't bought pudding for me. Well, figures.

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