Makoto glanced at the photo, a jolt of something hot and forbidden shooting through him. He looked away, digging into his food with a desperation that had nothing to do with hunger.
"You're not going to let me eat in peace, are you?" he grumbled.
A memory, long buried, surfaced. "That looks… nostalgic. You were so worried about your first period back then."
He giggled, the sound strained and unnatural.
It was a clumsy attempt to steer the conversation back to the safer, albeit still awkward, territory of their shared past.
Yuna's fork froze mid-air. A slow, dangerous smile spread across her face. It was the expression of a predator that had just been handed a new, sharper weapon.
"Oho? Remembering little details, are we?" she purred, leaning so far across the table that her cleavage almost dipped into the gravy. "Like how you had to buy me pads from the convenience store because I was crying?"
Her voice dropped to a venomous whisper, a sinful promise that made the air between them crackle. "Want me to recreate that, too, big bro? Fake blood on the pajamas? Extra 50k."
She licked her lips, her eyes glittering with a dark, unholy light. "I'll even sob 'I'm dying!' while you fuck me. For the authentic childhood trauma package."
"Nope, thanks. That's gross," Makoto shot back, a genuine revulsion cutting through his arousal. "I mean, the trauma and the fake blood, not you."
He reached across the table, his thumb gently wiping a smudge of sauce from the corner of her mouth.
For a split second, his gaze met hers, and something raw and unguarded passed between them.
He immediately looked away, his face burning. "Any luck with the current gacha banner?" he asked, a desperate, clumsy attempt to change the subject.
Yuna's predatory expression softened, just for a second, at his touch. Then, the mercenary smirk snapped back into place. "Ugh, don't remind me!"
She slumped dramatically over her steak. "Lost the 50/50 to fucking Qiqi again at 78 pity!"
She jabbed her fork in the direction of his wallet. "That's why big bro's gotta fund my next pulls."
Her eyes glinted with mischief. "Unless…" She leaned in, lowering her voice. "…you wanna be my lucky charm? We could do a special ritual. You jerk off into my phone while I roll?"
She laughed at his horrified expression. "Kidding! …Mostly."
Her foot found his under the table again, the touch a fraction gentler this time. "But seriously. Spot me for some ten-pulls? Klee's rerun banner ends tomorrow, and I'm desperate."
He was a fool. A weak, pathetic, utterly predictable fool. With a sigh that felt like it was being pulled from the depths of his soul, he surrendered. "Fine. Here."
He took her phone, the case a glittery, pastel monstrosity, and navigated to the in-game store.
His fingers trembled slightly as he input his credit card number, the familiar sixteen digits a testament to his own damnation.
He purchased enough crystals for ten ten-pulls, a sum that would undoubtedly condemn him to another month of instant noodles.
"This should be enough, right?" he said, his voice flat with resignation. "Consider it my… deposit. Just don't max out my card."
Yuna's eyes bulged as she snatched her phone back, her fingers trembling with a feverish excitement that was almost terrifying to watch.
"HOLY SHIT BIG BRO YOU'RE THE BEST!" she shrieked, the sound loud enough to make the nearby diners jump and the waiter drop a fork.
She immediately started pulling, her face inches from the screen as the rainbow lights of the wishing animation flashed across her features. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. "COME ON, COME ON, COME ON—"
Suddenly, she froze. Her body went rigid, her eyes wide. Then, she let out an ear-piercing scream of pure, unadulterated joy.
"MY KLEE CAME HOME! AND SHE'S C1!"
Before he could react, she threw her arms around his neck, nearly choking him in a hug that was less affectionate and more a frantic expression of gacha-fueled ecstasy. "BEST BIG BRO EVER!"
But then, her grip tightened, shifting from celebratory to something more predatory. She pressed her lips to his ear, her breath hot and promising. "This doesn't mean you get freebies, though."
Her hand slid dangerously low under the table, her fingers brushing against the strained fabric of his jeans. "But maybe… I'll give you an extra sob during our sleep assault scene."
"Behave, will you?" Makoto sighed, the public display of affection mortifying him. "We're still in the restaurant."
He turned his head, planting a sneaky, fleeting kiss on her cheek before quickly looking away, his own boldness surprising him. "Let's go home. I'm full. Then you can spend your time on your silly gacha game."
Yuna touched her kissed cheek with an expression of exaggerated shock, which quickly melted into a wicked grin. "Oho? Big bro getting bold?"
She slid out of the booth, deliberately swaying her hips as she walked ahead of him toward the exit, a silent, tantalizing invitation.
At the door, she spun around suddenly, her eyes glinting with a fresh wave of diabolical inspiration. "Oh, by the way..."
Her voice dropped to a venomous purr. "Dad will come home tonight." She watched his face pale with an almost obscene delight. "So if you want that 'sleep assault' session..."
She leaned in close, her breath a hot, sinful promise against his ear. "...you'll have to be very quiet while railing your little stepsister in the room right next to him."
Her hand drifted down, giving his crotch a brief, proprietary squeeze.
Before he could even process the horrifying, electrifying image she'd just painted, she skipped out into the street, calling back over her shoulder with a cheerful, innocent wave.
"Carry me home, onii-chan! My legs are still wobbly from your thick candy!"
Makoto's mind reeled. The thought of his father, no, their father, sleeping just a thin wall away, should have been a bucket of ice water on his libido.
Instead, it was like pouring gasoline on a bonfire. The added layer of risk, the sheer, audacious danger of it, was a potent, irresistible aphrodisiac.
With a groan that was equal parts despair and raw, undeniable excitement, he lifted her onto his back.
"Damn, you've really gained weight compared to back then, Yuna," he giggled, the sound a little breathless.
"Shut up, fatso," she retorted, but there was no heat in it.
"Maybe we can do the night visit next Friday?" he asked, his voice a low murmur as they started the walk home. "Just… turn off the lights and lock the door. And leave your windows unlocked."
Yuna giggled, a sharp, triumphant sound as she tightened her arms around his neck, her chest pressing against his back. "Oho? Big bro's got it all planned out."
She nuzzled into his ear, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, a final, chilling negotiation. "Three hundred thousand yen. Final offer."
She ground her hips against his lower back, a deliberate, torturous motion. "That includes: middle school PJs, unlocked window, fake tears..."
She nipped his earlobe, a sharp, possessive bite. "...and I'll whisper 'big bro, stop' in my real sixteen-year-old voice."
Suddenly, she stiffened, her grip tightening like a vice. "OH! And one more thing..."
Her tone turned lethally sweet, a razor blade wrapped in silk. "...if you somehow wake mom up during our fun time... "
Her nails dug into his shoulders, a silent, painful warning. "I'm telling her you spent all your savings on my gacha pulls. And that you molested me."
She dissolved into giggles as she felt him tense beneath her. "Deal?"
The word hung in the air, a final, damning contract. He was being extorted, manipulated, and threatened, and yet, all he could feel was a rising, consuming wave of anticipation.
"Deal," he grunted, his voice rough. They stopped in front of their house, the familiar porch light casting long, distorted shadows. "Be prepared for next Friday, then."
He paused, a final, perverse request on his lips. "And you don't have to… take a bath on that day. Just saying."