POV: RenLocation: Earth – Morning to Night
It was just after breakfast when she asked.
She stood in the hallway, sunlight catching in her hair, wearing a simple white blouse tucked into a pale beige skirt. Innocent. Casual. Almost modest.
But her eyes weren't.
"Can we go out today?" Astraea asked, tilting her head slightly. "Just the two of us."
I paused.
Her tone was light. Friendly. Harmless.
But I'd seen her soul through blood and stars. There was nothing harmless about her.
"…Where?" I asked.
"Anywhere," she said with a soft smile. "Call it a sibling bonding day. That's what I am now, isn't it?"
Her voice didn't challenge me. But it didn't need to.
I nodded once.
And so we left.
We wandered the city.
The arcade. A bookstore. The riverside walk. Cafes and convenience stores, pretending.
To anyone watching, we were just siblings. Close. Affectionate. Laughing at nothing. She even called me "onii-chan" once, just loud enough for a passing couple to hear.
I gave her a flat look.
She smiled like she won.
She took pictures of us on her phone. One by the cherry blossom tree. One at a claw machine. One where she linked her arm through mine and rested her head against my shoulder.
"Memories," she said.
I didn't ask what for.
I already knew she was trying to fill something. Maybe break something. Maybe both.
Night fell.
We were walking near the station when she stopped.
"Let's not go home yet."
I turned to her.
She was looking at a tall building across the street. Plain glass. Neon sign half-lit.
A love hotel.
I said nothing.
She didn't smile this time. She just looked at me.
"I want to feel you again," she said quietly. "Not as your 'sister.' Not as a memory. As me."
I looked up at the sky.
There were no stars tonight.
I followed her inside.
The room was dim. Simple. Red tones.
She sat on the bed, removed her shoes, and patted the space beside her.
"Do you hate this?" she asked.
"No."
"Then why do you look like you're somewhere else?"
Because I always was.
She reached for me gently. Her hands were soft, her voice softer.
"You don't have to say anything," she whispered, unbuttoning my shirt. "You never do."
I didn't stop her.
I never did.
Her lips met mine slowly, reverently. Not in lust—but longing.
Her clothes fell away like the past she couldn't let go of.
And I let her take what she wanted.
My body.
My silence.
My breath.
She clung to me through every motion, murmuring things I didn't answer. Her hands on my back, her mouth tracing the shape of my name across my chest, hoping I would respond.
I didn't.
And that wounded her more than rejection.
She guided me to her breasts, and I sucked them, feeling her nipples harden in my mouth. She moaned softly, her body arching towards mine. I could feel her desire, her need, but I felt nothing in return. I filled her pussy with my cum, over and over again, ten rounds of intense, passionate love-making. Each time, she cried out my name, her body shaking with pleasure. But with each round, I felt more distant, more detached. I was there physically, but my heart was elsewhere.
When it ended, she lay against me—eyes glassy, breath trembling.
"You give everything except what matters," she whispered.
"I know."
"I'll keep asking anyway."
"…I know that too."
We didn't speak for a while after.
Outside, the world moved on. The night deepened.
She curled beside me and eventually fell asleep.
And I watched the ceiling, as always—
wondering if the version of me she loved ever really existed.