I stretched my arms overhead as my eyes blinked a couple of times.
The clock on my desk read six in the morning. My internal clock is amazing—always waking me up at this hour, even on a Saturday.
"….."
I couldn't help but yawn; last night I had stayed up late finishing a video game I'd been putting off. It was so good that I didn't want to leave it halfway done.
Reluctantly, I stood up and walked over to my wardrobe, swapping my loungewear for a black tracksuit I usually wore when I went out for morning training.
"I wish I were a cat," I muttered as I glanced at Kuro, my pet, sleeping peacefully at the foot of my bed.
Honestly, what a life. Sleep, eat, and do absolutely nothing. Cats won the lottery of existence.
Once I gave up on the idea of becoming a cat, I grabbed my keys and left my room.
By now it's second nature—my body just moves on its own: down the stairs, unlock the door, step outside, lock it again, then start jogging.
I'd been doing this for years, so muscle memory took care of the routine. Like any other day, I ran through my daily workout without a hitch.
I usually took about an hour for this, and once I was done, I walked back home. It might sound boring or repetitive, but it's a good way to keep my body active—and in its own way, it's relaxing.
After finishing the walk back, I slid my key into the front door and stepped inside. Just as I was about to head upstairs, I noticed my mom making breakfast. One less thing to worry about.
"I'll come down after I shower," I said while climbing the stairs.
Back in my room, I grabbed a change of clothes and went straight to the bathroom. I was drenched in sweat, so the best thing to do was take a long, relaxing shower.
There's nothing quite like a hot shower after working out, especially when the weather's chilly.
After some time, I stepped out of the tub, dried myself off, and slipped into the clothes I'd brought—a blue T-shirt and black pants. At home, I like to stay comfortable.
As I left the bathroom, I towel-dried my hair. My mom would scold me if I left the floor wet. Maybe I should cut it, but it's not long enough to be a real hassle.
With my hair finally dry, I headed downstairs and walked into the kitchen to help set the table. Even though my mom always says it's unnecessary, I lend a hand anyway—besides, my good behavior tends to pay off when allowance time comes around.
After breakfast, I planned to read the novels I'd bought online. It was Saturday, after all, so there wasn't much else to do.
Or at least, that was the plan. I say that because the person in the kitchen wasn't my mom, as I first thought.
"Kawasaki?"
When did I get married to her? Maybe I was drunk that day or just out of my mind.
I glanced quickly at myself. Still fifteen. So marriage was definitely out of the question. Then why was Kawasaki in my kitchen—and more importantly, why was she wearing my mom's black apron?
"Breakfast is ready. I'm not great at cooking, but I did my best."
"I see… so you broke into my kitchen just to make me breakfast?" I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
Yeah, I didn't know Kawasaki had stalker tendencies. Should I file a restraining order? Call the police?
"Huh? Why are you looking at me like I'm some intruder?"
"Aren't you?" I tilted my head.
If she didn't break in, then someone must have invited her. But who on earth would do that?
"You're the one who told me I could stay the night here. And since I didn't want to seem ungrateful, I made breakfast—especially since you cooked dinner last night," she said, staring at me with a hint of irritation.
"Ohhhhh!"
"Why are you acting surprised!?"
"I forgot."
"Are you an idiot?"
"If I forget something, it means it wasn't important to me, so that's normal."
Now that I think about it, yesterday, after joking around a bit with Kawasaki—and avoiding getting killed for saying I wanted to flirt with her mom—we talked about some random things. After that, she went to bed first, and I headed to my room.
"I can see your personality is pretty unique."
"Thanks for the compliment."
"Unique as in a clueless idiot. How do you forget about someone you invited to your own house?"
She's right, but like I said earlier, if it's something I don't care about, there's no way I'd remember it after sleeping.
"Why is the host getting insulted in his own house?"
"Do I even need to answer?" she said indifferently.
Well, it's my fault for letting her stay the night.
"Fine, fine, let's leave it at that…"
I took out the dishes for breakfast and carried them to the dining table.
"Itadakimasu."
We both gave thanks for the food once we sat down.
It was surprising that Kawasaki could do this—or rather, I had zero expectations for her cooking skills. It doesn't really match her delinquent vibe.
"Why do I feel like you're insulting me?" she stopped to glare at me.
"That's on you," I replied, stuffing some rice into my mouth.
The breakfast Kawasaki made was pretty standard: a bowl of rice, miso soup, toast, and tamagoyaki.
"I've got to say, for a guest, you sure didn't hesitate to use the ingredients in someone else's house."
"Is that a complaint!? Because I can see you enjoying what I cooked."
"It's just an observation. As for the second part, no comment."
She gave a small sigh. "When I woke up, I was going to ask if I could make breakfast as a thank-you for letting me stay over, but since you weren't around, I decided to do it anyway. Knowing you, you wouldn't have cared."
I don't know whether to be offended that she assumed things about me, or feel weird about how well Kawasaki seems to know me.
"No comment."
"That's what I thought," she said with a smug look of victory.
The food was fine, so there was no point pushing the subject. And just like she said, I had no problem with her making breakfast. As long as it was edible and not poisonous. And honestly, from the way she comes off, I expected the latter.
"For your information, I can cook basic stuff."
"Did I say that out loud?" I thought I'd broken that little bad habit of mine.
"Your face and your eyes said it for you."
"Don't blame me for that. You don't exactly make it easy to think well of you…" I said honestly.
"That goes for you too. You look like some boring guy who just likes being shut in his room, but in reality, you're a sadist who enjoyed beating people up."
"That's how it looked?"
"That's the truth."
"Who knows," I said, and went back to eating.
I didn't deny it, because I wasn't sure if it was true or not.
After our little back-and-forth, we kept eating, but the silence that followed felt nice and calm.
…
"So, how was breakfast? Delicious, right?" Kawasaki asked with a hint of pride.
After finishing, we started washing up. Well, I washed while Kawasaki dried.
Teamwork made things easier.
"I don't need to say it if you already know the answer, do I?"
Kawasaki just started humming a tune in response.
Enjoying the pleasant melody—which reminded me of some kids' anime song—we finished cleaning up the dishes.
With nothing else to do, we went back to the living room, where a black ball of fur was waiting for us on the couch.
"Tsurumi, your cat is weird."
"Why do you say that?" I lifted Kuro into my arms.
"When I stepped out of the room after changing, your cat was right by the door, watching me like it was tracking my every move."
"He's very territorial, and since I was out, he started keeping an eye on you." I stroked Kuro's head, and he purred in response.
"I'm pretty sure that's what a dog would do." Kawasaki kept her distance.
"I adopted him off the street, so he still holds on to some habits."
"I see…"
Kuro slipped out of my arms and padded toward Kawasaki, but she immediately stepped back.
"Could you take him away? I'm allergic…"
"A cat intimidates you? That really changes how I see you," I teased, moving Kuro away from her.
My adorable cat, realizing he wasn't welcome, slipped out through the door that led to the yard.
Kuro tends to do that—he leaves and comes back after a few hours. Cats. Nothing more to say.
"I guess it's true what they say, pets resemble their owners."
"Thanks for the compliment."
Kawasaki cracked a smile as she sat down on the couch, stretching her arms.
Like gravity pulling objects toward the earth, my eyes were drawn to those two enormous mountains.
I can't help it—even if my mind is older than my body, being stuck in a teenage body is still a nuisance.
"Such resilience and a crazy healing rate. Are you… some kind of superhuman or what?"
Dragging my eyes away from that particular part of Kawasaki's body, I noticed the wounds on her face had nearly vanished. Of course, that was also thanks to me treating them properly.
"You were about to say monster, weren't you?!"
"That's just your imagination…" I muttered, looking away.
Great talent and next-level endurance—was Kawasaki born with some sort of cheat ability? What if she seriously trained in more martial arts besides karate?
I could picture her winning competitions without much effort.
"Even so, I doubt I could beat you, especially if you went all out." She sighed, as if rethinking a lot of things.
"Obviously. But don't worry—if you want, I could let you win. You know, I'm a gentleman."
"That's ridiculously sexist!"
I was joking. No way I'd hand her a free victory.
"Then don't worry. Honestly, when we train, you seem more masculine than most guys."
I'm sure everyone else thinks the same.
"I'm a girl!"
"In that case, you could act a little more feminine once in a while. Like yesterday, when you let out that cute little 'Kya.'"
It was pretty adorable to see—especially coming from a girl who looks like a delinquent.
"Now that you mention it…" She cracked her knuckles. "That last hit you gave me was completely unnecessary!"
"I'm not sure it even counts as a hit—maybe just a light tap."
If I'd used real force, Kawasaki wouldn't have let out a cute 'Kya.' She'd have doubled over in pain.
"Then you won't mind if I give you one!"
Kawasaki stood up and flicked me on the forehead.
Or that was the idea, but I tilted my head, dodging her strike.
"Bad luck for you, but that's not happening. Besides, you're the one who came at me out of nowhere."
"That's not a valid excuse!"
She didn't give up and kept trying to hit me.
"What are you, a grade schooler or something?"
Right now, her attitude doesn't match her appearance at all.
"You're the last person who should be saying that to me!"
I caught her wrist with my hand.
"Alright, alright, that's enough. You're not winning today—or any other day."
If she's going to act like an elementary kid, I guess I can stoop to her level.
Our eyes locked, neither of us willing to back down.
"Nya!"
Except something happened that neither of us saw coming.
Taking advantage of the stealth natural to cats, Kuro meowed right next to Kawasaki.
"Ehhh!"
Since she's allergic to cats, it was only natural that she tried to get as far away as possible from that little furball that could set off her allergies. In the process, she stumbled and fell.
Normally, I'd laugh at her clumsiness, but since I was holding her wrist and got startled too, I ended up falling with her.
Kawasaki hit the ground first, landing on her back, and I shared the same fate, falling right on top of her. I managed to brace myself with my arms to keep a little distance, though.
From another angle, it probably looked like I was doing a kabe-don on the floor. In reality, we just ended up in this situation by pure accident.
"Could you be any clumsier?" I said sarcastically.
"Let me remind you, that cat's yours. This wouldn't have happened if you were a better owner."
We stared at each other, but after a moment, both of us started laughing.
At the time, I didn't really think about why Kuro came back—he usually stays out for a good while. Of course, I found out the reason a few seconds later.
"Looks like you took advantage of being alone at home to play around, didn't you, onii-chan?"
Turning toward the voice, I saw a ten-year-old girl watching us. She was wearing a blue jacket over a pink blouse, along with a long purple skirt—an outfit perfectly fitting for her age. Obviously, that girl is my adorable little sister, Tsurumi Rumi.
"Hey, Rumi. Really, this isn't what it looks like. Right, Kawasaki?"
Kuro, my loyal cat, had returned the moment he saw Rumi, so it made sense that he came back earlier than usual.
"Get off me first!"
She kicked me in the stomach, shoving me back.
That girl is seriously a pain. Still, before I got off her, I noticed a slight blush on her cheeks when Rumi caught us. Maybe I was just imagining it.
"Onii-chan…" Rumi said with a sigh.
"Don't pity me for something that's not what it looks like." I quickly stood up, and so did Kawasaki.
"So, what's going on?" Rumi tilted her head with innocent curiosity.
"It's a long story, but in short, the blue-haired girl who looks like a delinquent is allergic to cats, and since Kuro startled her, she fell."
"Who are you calling a delinquent!?" Kawasaki immediately protested.
"I see. If you say so, it must be true."
Kawasaki looked at Rumi with curiosity, and Rumi noticed it too.
"My brother has no reason to lie. He's too honest."
"Thanks for the compliment." As her big brother, I feel very proud of myself.
"Although sometimes I wish he wasn't too honest…"
Rumi-chan, why do you sound so disappointed?
"I get it…" Kawasaki nodded.
Wait, why do both of you sound disappointed in me?
"I haven't introduced myself—I'm Kawasaki Saki." Kawasaki gave a slight bow.
"Tsurumi Rumi. Nice to meet you."
Rumi really does have great manners when it comes to others.
"Your brother talks about you a lot."
"I know, I'd rather he didn't…" Rumi sighed.
Is this her revenge for how quickly I won her little sister's affection?
"I won't hesitate to brag about how cute and amazing my little sister is," I said with conviction.
Since my parents spend most of the day working, I've spent a lot of time with my little sister, so saying I adore her is an understatement.
"That must be tough, right?"
"It is…"
Why does it feel like they're leaving me out of their conversation?
"You two know I can hear you and you're sitting right in front of me, right?"
"I pity you…"
"Don't worry, I gave up a while ago…"
Can you stop already? I think I'm about to cry.
Both of them looked at my expression and laughed, as if mocking me was the most entertaining thing in the world.
I need to keep Rumi away from Kawasaki—I don't want her turning into a delinquent, let alone saying she wants to distance herself from her brother. If that ever happened, something inside me would break.
"I'm sure you should be heading home by now, Kawasaki."
If there's no reason for her to stay, she should go. It might seem like I'm trying to kick her out, but if she takes too long to get home, her brothers will worry, and her parents might start asking more questions. In short, I'm actually being considerate.
"Oh, you're right, time really flies." She glanced at the clock in the living room—it was already nine in the morning.
"See you, Kawasaki-san," Rumi said as Kawasaki was about to leave. "Thanks for putting up with my brother. He may seem overly indulgent, but he's a lot more reliable than he looks."
"I know." Kawasaki shot me a quick look as she said goodbye to Rumi.
So I walked her to the door.
"Do you know the way back home?"
"You think I'm clumsy enough to get lost? Don't underestimate me!"
"I don't—it's actually the opposite."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"That you should hurry, or Keika will start missing you."
"Hmm, you're right. Maybe I should buy her a treat on my way home."
As a good older sister, the last thing she wants is to worry her siblings.
"See you Monday, Tsurumi. Thanks for yesterday! Though don't think I won't hit you during training!"
"Glad to see you're so grateful." I smirked. "Good luck with that last part."
After staring at each other for a few seconds, we both nodded.
I'm not sure if it's good that she hasn't changed at all.
Kawasaki raised her hand behind her as she started walking home.
I wonder how things would've turned out if yesterday had gone differently? I shook my head. No point in thinking about outcomes that don't exist.
I pushed those thoughts aside and went back inside my house.
My sweet little imouto was no longer in the living room, so she must've gone to her room.
With nothing else to do here, I headed to my own room.
Once inside, I pulled a novel from the shelf and flopped down on my bed.
I can spend Saturday reading and relaxing—the best way to spend the day.
Although…
"I feel like I'm forgetting something…" I tried to think about what it could be, but after a few seconds, I gave up. "If I forgot, then it must not be important."
With that sensible conclusion, I decided to focus on my book.