"Who was that just now?"
"Who cares who he is? He took Sora. Whether he sells her or adopts her, he'll be the one legally responsible. Nothing to do with us."
"Yeah, hopefully that deadweight never comes back."
Only after Riku left did they snap out of it, resume bickering, and chatter on without the slightest intention of going after him, secretly pleased they'd gotten rid of a tumour.
"So then, how are we splitting the assets?" a middle-aged man snorted. Since both children had been "assigned," there was no more need to beat around the bush.
"As for that…" At those words, the adults showed perfectly fake smiles. The twins' parents were doctors; they'd left behind plenty.
......
Meanwhile, on a night road in Chiba City, Riku walked while holding the girl. Studying her delicate features up close, he spoke softly.
"My name is Riku Dora. From now on, I'm your big brother. And your name is?"
At the sound of Riku's voice, the girl, her eyes vacant, shut up in her own world, finally came back to herself. She looked at him coolly and said nothing.
Riku could only shake his head. Not everyone is like Shiro, able to accept everything so easily. With all her kin having just abandoned her, the fact that her heart hadn't broken already was remarkable.
Of course, if left alone, breaking was only a matter of time.
He set the girl down, crouched in front of her, smoothed her silver hair, straightened the white dress rumpled on her body, then met her brown eyes.
"Will you tell me, please?"
"…S-Sora." Under the steady glow of Riku's compelling golden eyes, the girl finally gave her name, though her face and tone were both icy.
"Sora, what would you like to eat in a bit?" Riku asked gently.
At the mention of food, a little light finally kindled in Sora's eyes. Being hungry most of the day is hard on a little girl; only earlier grief had smothered the hunger.
"…Hamburgers," Sora murmured. Her tone softened a fraction.
"Hamburgers, got it." Riku nodded, lifted Sora up again, and started walking, his mind already turning over a dozen things.
What next? Take Sora straight home?
He'd only just taken Shiro in, bringing Sora back too would look… not great, to put it mildly. Neighbours would be an issue, too.
And though Sora and Shiro were similar, both future net-addled girls, Riku was sure they wouldn't have any common language. Their compatibility would be awful.
"It's not the time yet. We'll do it this way. Time to run dual lines." Riku muttered.
He decided to settle Sora in Chiba City for now. For him, getting from place to place was a thought, not a hassle like it is for ordinary people.
Thinking that, Riku smiled faintly.
He then took Sora out for a proper meal and a stroll around Chiba. After that, he got down to business: with a light touch of power, housing, identity, and paperwork were all tidied up. Sora had long since fallen asleep in his arms; Riku didn't disturb her. He quietly mended that frail little body, laid her in bed, and pulled the covers up.
With things squared away, Riku instant-moved back to Tokyo's Ashikaga Ward.
By then, Karuizawa Kei had already gone home, while Shiro was still glued to anime, empty snack bags strewn everywhere.
"Shiro, how many times have I told you trash goes in the trash can." Riku arched a brow, went over, and vigorously kneaded Shiro's cheeks, enjoying that soft squish while putting on a stern face.
"Bw bro, jou're sho noishy (so noisy)." With her cheeks mashed, Shiro's ahoge wobbled in protest; she mumbled indistinctly.
Riku let go of her face, twitched a thought, and teleported the trash into the bin.
"Ni-chan's got such a convenient power, and you still make me throw stuff away. Bad heart," Shiro said flatly, rubbing her reddened cheeks. Those deep red eyes flashed with dissatisfaction as she glared at Riku.
"So my powers are for taking out the garbage, huh." Riku scrubbed her silver hair into a bird's nest and chuckled helplessly.
If the Halloween Queen heard Shiro calling boundary manipulation a "handy trash-disposal power," she'd probably blow up this world in a huff.
"Bro, don't mess up my hair! Do you always have to treat me like a little kid?" Shiro slapped away his hand, annoyed.
"You are a little kid, you little gremlin," Riku rolled his eyes. "Even if your IQ is higher than 99% of this world."
At that, Shiro, deeply dissatisfied, bit his forearm.
Riku hurriedly dialled his skin and muscle down to normal human toughness; otherwise, he'd have snapped her teeth.
After leaving a neat row of tiny bite marks, Shiro suddenly stood on the sofa, rose up on tiptoe, her face close to his, just a tilt and their lips would have met.
Just as Riku wondered if she was about to try some overly intimate move, Shiro spoke; her tone shed its usual lazy drawl for sharp suspicion.
"…snif snif, why do you smell different?"
"…!" Riku's eyes widened a fraction.
Shiro… are you part dog?
It was just holding Sora for a while, and she still sniffed it out… I'll have to be more careful.
Riku grumbled inwardly.
"You didn't go out fooling around with… those unclean women, did you?" Shiro's face barely changed, but her eyes were pure disdain.
"Where did you even learn that stuff?" Riku rolled his eyes and palmed his forehead.
Can you imagine a child pointing at you and accusing you of going out to mess around? The taste is… exquisite. If he didn't already know how uncanny Shiro was and hadn't confirmed her soul was fine, he'd have suspected some prodigy reincarnated with memories.
"Answer me, oni-chan. You didn't actually go out to find women and fool around, did you?" The tiny Shiro fixed him with a sharp stare.
Only, with that adorable face and childish voice, she couldn't muster any real menace; if anything, it made Riku want to scoop her up and squish those cheeks.
"Do I look like that kind of guy?" Riku calmly wiped away the lingering scent, righteous as a saint. "Don't believe me? Smell."
Suspicious, Shiro leaned in again and took a light sniff; the fragrance from before was gone.
"Bro, you didn't use your powers to erase the scent, did you?" she said, still doubtful.
"Ahem. Shiro, are you treating me like Doraemon? Able to do everything?" Riku's mouth twitched.
"Your surname is Dora, and there's a non-zero chance you're related to Doraemon. Therefore, you are omnipotent," Shiro said evenly.
"…" Riku's mouth twitched harder. Shiro, you're totally a little schemer. Totally!
"Daring to tease even me, no anime or games tonight. Bed." Riku switched off the TV without blinking, big-brother authority engaged.
"Oni, you're mean!" Shiro glared.
"It's already ten. Off to bed. Kids shouldn't stay up." Riku pinched her soft cheeks with perfect calm. Teach the child what it means when ginger gets spicier with age. Hmph, when I control the anime and the games, a mere Shiro can't hope to fight the old master!
"I'm ignoring you." Knowing she had no leverage here, Shiro shot him one last look, then went to brush her teeth and retreated to her room.
Watching her scamper off, Riku rubbed his nose. Back when he'd just taken Shiro in, they hadn't been this close, so he hadn't pushed to sleep in the same room; he'd even felt a little regret back then. Now… maybe it's a perk?
This way, he could shuttle between the two sides with ease.
Thinking so, Riku turned off the lights and blink-warped back to Sora's place, just in case.
Sora had only just been taken in; her mood was anything but steady.
--
Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School.
Founded by the Japanese government at great expense to nurture the next generation of elite youth.
The school advertises no entrance requirements. Supposedly, 99.9% of graduates land the job they want, and the facilities are the latest of the latest.
They don't care about hairstyles or what personal items you bring an extremely "free" school climate. The one strict rule is: during enrollment, no leaving campus. Which is why hordes of middle-school grads applied, dazzled by the dream.
But anyone who knows the truth wouldn't call it a dream. For a high-schooler, this place is hell.
In reality, everything is measured by ability in a pure meritocracy. On paper, entrants are sorted into classes by overall score (written + interview), from high to low, A first.
The highly capable get slotted into Class A from the start. Then it's B, C, D. Rumour has it the new year will add an E Class, but it's oddly secretive, its classroom won't be in the main building, but tucked away in the wooded hills.
Those details aside.
Bottom line: in this school, the strong monopolise resources and the weak eke out survival. Status is decided by strength; it's a school where might makes right.
And today is opening day, the entrance ceremony for the new first-years. A number of students are riding buses to campus.
Kei Karuizawa is among them. In a blink, seven years have passed; Kei has gone from grade-schooler to first-year high-schooler.
She wears the Advanced Nurturing High uniform and white mid-calf socks; her long hair is tied into a single ponytail down to her waist. Compared to Shiro and Sagiri, she's a shade darker, a healthy wheat tone, but still fairer than most, giving off a lively impression. She's fussed over the little wrinkles and details of the uniform, lending the proper attire a touch of fresh, trend-aware charm.
Put simply: a hint of gyaru flavour.
Of course, anyone who knows the real her understands that's just the exterior. Kei Karuizawa may love trends, but deep down, she's a pure-hearted girl.
"Ugh… why did Riku-nii recommend a school like this to me?" Sitting by the bus window, Karuizawa Kei watched the scenery slide backwards and murmured to herself.
"If I enrol here, it'll be a whole term without seeing him, how am I supposed to act spoiled, then…" Kei grumbled. As she spoke, a faint blush rose on her lightly made-up, delicate face. It's been seven years since she met Riku; in those seven years, her feelings have changed. From seeing him as a non-blood-related "big brother" or childhood friend… to wanting something more than childhood friends.
Honestly, if he hadn't insisted so strongly, she wouldn't have come; other girls will get a head start.
"Um, could someone give up a seat for this elder?" A clear voice rang out inside the bus just then, drawing a lot of eyes.
A girl in a school uniform pretty features, tea-brown short hair, and a chest… rather beyond the usual for her age, was supporting an elderly grandma.
Clearly, she was trying to get a seat for the old lady; she was speaking to a blond student sitting in the priority seat.
"Why do I have to give up my seat…?" the blond replied coolly.
The two started trading words; in the end, the girl was left without a comeback. An awkward mood settled over the bus.
Meanwhile, the other passengers merely watched in silence.
Kei swept her gaze over the bus and found that no one seemed inclined to stand.
Closest to the scene were two boys whose attitudes were especially blatant; others at least pretended to read or stare at their phones.
One boy wore a permanent stone-faced expression and didn't budge. The other was a black-haired kid with a little ahoge staring over with dead-fish eyes, equally unmoved.
"Tch." Kei clicked her tongue, stood up in annoyance, and smiled at the elder. "Please take my seat."
The long-haired, black-haired beauty sitting next to Kei lifted her eyes to glance over, then drew back her legs to let Kei out and calmly returned to her book.
"Thank you." The short-haired girl happily guided the old lady into Kei's seat, then beamed at Kei. "I'm Kushida Kikyo. Looks like we'll be classmates. What's your name? I'd love to be friends. If it's okay, can you just call me Kikyo?"
"Kushida-san, I'm Karuizawa Kei. Just 'Karuizawa' is fine," Kei replied with a polite smile, keeping a bit of distance.
"Karuizawa-san, which class are you in…?" Kushida asked brightly, a hint of regret flickering in her eyes as she pressed on.
Dragged into her rhythm, Kei could only chat along.
When classes came up, the long-haired black-haired beauty, the stonefaced boy, and the dead-fish-eyed boy each flicked a glance their way.
Amid the bustle, the bus reached the school stop. Kushida Kikyo and Karuizawa Kei disembarked together.
After the entrance ceremony, the new first-years headed to their assigned homerooms.
In Class D, the room was noisy; chatter filled the air.
Riiiing!
The bell soon sounded, and students sat down; the room quieted a little.
But even fifteen minutes after class was supposed to start, no teacher had come. The room grew noisy again as everyone wondered aloud if the teacher was actually late.
"Quiet!"
A tall figure strode in, rapped the desk, and spoke coldly. The sheer authority in her tone finally stilled the room; all eyes went to the lectern.
There stood a tall woman in a black suit-style uniform; her figure alone could make men stare. Yet the way she'd casually tied her hair back into a ponytail lent her a crisp, capable air.
Cold. Casual. Commanding.
That was the first impression for most of the students, and it stunned the majority. Two boys, though, remained unshaken: the stonefaced one in the back by the window, and the dead-fish-eyed one, who was looking up at her with a put-upon, weary gaze as if to say, 'Ah, looks like high school life is going to be a pain.'
"I'm your assistant homeroom teacher, Chabashira Sae." Her eyes swept the room as she spoke, face set. The obvious anger there made several students duck their heads.
Only a few in Class D noticed the key point: assistant homeroom teacher, not homeroom teacher.
On the very first period of a new term, the homeroom teacher should be the one here, especially after being ten minutes late.
In truth, Chabashira Sae's anger wasn't aimed at the students below, but at a certain tardy homeroom teacher.