Rito yawned as he shuffled into the kitchen, hair sticking out in all directions. The smell of miso soup hit him before he even opened his eyes fully. Mikan was already up, fussing with the stove, while Mashiro sat at the table in silence, staring at an uncooked egg as though it might reveal the secrets of the universe.
"Morning…" Rito mumbled, plopping into his seat.
"Wash your face first, Onii-chan," Mikan shot back instantly, hands on her hips.
"R-right, right." He scratched his cheek awkwardly before standing up again.
When he returned, Mashiro was still staring at the egg.
"You're supposed to crack it, Mashiro-chan," Mikan explained patiently, guiding her hand.
"Crack…?" Mashiro tilted her head. Then, with perfect seriousness, she tapped the egg lightly against the table once. Nothing happened.
Rito sighed. "Here, like this—" He reached out to demonstrate, but of course, fate had other plans. His grip slipped, and the egg burst too forcefully, splattering yolk across his fingers and shirt.
Mikan blinked once. "…Clumsy."
"Ugh…" Rito grabbed tissues, trying not to let Mikan's smirk get to him. "Don't just stand there enjoying this." He wanted to argue, but Mikan only smirked at it.
"It's your own fault, Onii-chan," Mikan said sweetly as she slid the finished dishes onto the table. "Seriously, if Mashiro-chan's going to learn, she needs a better teacher than you."
Mashiro, meanwhile, reached for another egg with unshakable seriousness. "…Again."
Once the food was served, the three of them sat down. Mashiro ate quietly, her movements graceful yet strangely mechanical, as if she were imitating what she'd seen in a painting. Mikan kept sneaking glances at her, half-distracted, while Rito chewed thoughtfully on his rice.
His eyes drifted to the side dishes—the neatly arranged tamagoyaki and the perfectly seasoned miso. Mikan's been handling all this on her own, huh? He rubbed his chin. If I've already got a Cooking skill, maybe it's about time I stop being useless and actually help her…
After the meal, Rito rolled up his sleeves before Mikan could shoo him away. "I'll do the dishes with you today."
She blinked. "Eh? You? You'll probably just make a mess—"
"I'll manage," he cut in with an awkward grin, grabbing a sponge. "Besides, I can't let my little sister shoulder everything forever."
Mikan narrowed her eyes suspiciously but didn't argue. Together, they fell into a rhythm—Mikan rinsing, Rito scrubbing. He fumbled a bit at first, nearly dropping a plate, but soon found himself focusing on the process. The clinking of dishes, the running water, the warmth of soap suds between his fingers—mundane, but steady.
[Cooking +2 EXP]
Cooking [Lv. 2] (7 → 9/100)
Rito felt a faint tug in his mind, the subtle spark of progress. … So even this counts. As long as I put in the effort, I can grow little by little.
"Not bad, Onii-chan," Mikan admitted, handing him another bowl. "Maybe you won't be hopeless after all."
When the last plate clinked onto the rack, Rito wiped his damp hands against a towel with a quiet sigh. It wasn't much, but helping Mikan left a small sense of satisfaction in his chest.
"Thanks, Onii-chan," Mikan said, though her tone carried a teasing lilt. "If you keep this up, I might actually let you in the kitchen once in a while."
"Heh, I'll take that as praise," Rito replied, drying the counter.
Mashiro had already drifted back toward the living room, her golden hair swaying as she moved with slow, unhurried steps. She sat down before the window, gazing outside as if the world itself were an endless canvas.
Rito stretched his back, suppressing a yawn. Alright… time to get serious. With the kitchen handled, he headed toward his room, notebooks and reference books stacked high on the desk.
Sliding into his chair, he stared at the clutter of scribbled outlines and drafts from the night before. The words he had written—"I will save you, no matter how many times it takes"—still stared back at him from the top page.
"…Okay," he muttered, picking up his pencil. "Morning session: some study, then polishing the draft."
His textbooks lay open at the side. Math formulas blurred with character notes, kanji drills competing with dialogue snippets. He alternated between solving problems and jotting ideas, trying to keep both plates spinning.
[High School Study +3 EXP]
High School Study [Lv. 2] (21 → 24/100)
[Writing +5 EXP]
Writing [Lv. 3] (39 → 44/300)
The clatter of dishes from dinner faded into the background, leaving the living room filled with the soft glow of the television. Rito dropped onto the couch with a tired sigh, Mikan curling up beside him with a cushion in her arms. Mashiro took the end seat, posture straight, eyes fixed on the flickering screen.
It wasn't that she looked bored—rather, her gaze carried a quiet weight, as if she were studying every movement, every word, committing them to memory. Rito stole a glance at her now and then, but as always, her expression didn't change.
The show was some light comedy variety program. The canned laughter echoed, but Mashiro didn't even blink. When the segment ended, Mikan stretched, turning toward her.
"Hey, Mashiro-chan," she began gently, "you'll be starting school the day after tomorrow, right?"
Mashiro blinked once, slowly, then gave a small nod. "…Yes." With little movement, Rito patted Mashiro head, which looked rather petable.
"Rito! What are you doing?" Mikan shook him off, making Rito smile. "I mean, she is not against it, plus she looks rather petable." He explained, although feeling a bit awkward.
"Even so! Mashiro-chan, you have to shake him off at a time like this." Turning to Mashiro, Mikan explained, making the silent girl nod. Although, just after that, Rito still ends up petting her head, on the cute response, with a response against it.
"That's good." After shaking Rito off, Mikan said, her smile softening. "Don't worry, I'll help you get ready. Uniform, supplies, everything."
Rito scratched his cheek. "Yeah, and… if you need anything, you can ask me too. I mean, it'll be nice to go together. Also, you can come to me if you need something."
Mashiro's gaze shifted to him, lingering for a second. "…Together." Her voice was quiet, almost testing the word. Mikan grinned, understanding that Rito had no hidden agenda against it and that the petting was just a cute child's reaction. After all, even she wanted to pet that head, but she was holding it in inside.
Mikan grinned. "Tomorrow's the weekend, so it'll be perfect to do some prep. Maybe we can go out for a bit—shopping for school stuff."
"Eh, shopping?" Rito groaned instinctively.
"Of course," Mikan huffed, crossing her arms.
Mashiro tilted her head slightly, eyes drifting back to the television. The faintest flicker of curiosity passed across her face. "Shopping…"
The three of them lapsed into a comfortable silence after that, the television filling the space with idle chatter. For the first time that day, Rito felt the weight lift a little from his shoulders. It wasn't much, but sitting like this—together—felt… right.