"Congratulations, Toka! You really pulled it off again—two more golds in the rhythmic gymnastics competition. I'm so happy for you. Cheers!"
Though Yukinoshita Haruno and Takanashi Toka attended different schools, they'd gotten to know each other thanks to Minamoto Senya. They'd once gone together to cheer for Toka at a competition, and from there, naturally exchanged contacts and became friends.
Knowing her manners well, Haruno would never show up at the Minamoto household empty-handed. Today's celebratory spread included chilled watermelon slices and washed cherries she'd brought along—refreshing side dishes that paired well with the greasy Western fast food laid out on the table.
Rikka, the youngest of the family, had claimed half the watermelon all to herself. Hugging the fruit to her chest, she happily dug into it with a spoon while sprawled in front of the TV. For her, that was the ultimate summer luxury.
At the table, Senya and Toka clinked glasses of sparkling water with Haruno.
"Oh, right—congratulations to you as well, Senya. Toka told me you just dominated the recent kendo matches. You beat every opponent from the other schools, didn't you? That's incredible! You haven't even been practicing kendo for very long, have you? You really are full of surprises."
The admiration in Haruno's voice was plain as day.
Senya, however, didn't let her praise puff him up. He waved it off with calm restraint.
"I can't compare to Toka-nee. Her competition was official, run by the local government. Mine was just an informal sparring exchange between schools. Most of the participants were just hobbyists—it doesn't really prove anything to beat them."
Toka frowned, unable to hold back.
"Senya, when someone praises you, just accept it. Excess humility comes off as arrogance, you know."
She had been there that day, along with their mom and Rikka. She'd seen those matches with her own eyes. The opponents hadn't been weak at all—several were upperclassmen in their final year of middle school, taller, stronger, with solid technique. Yet every single one of them had been cut down in just a few rounds.
For her little brother, still at a physical disadvantage, to overcome them—that was impressive.
She had loved hearing the cheers, the way the crowd roared his name. It had made her proud, proud enough that her chest swelled as if she herself had won.
That was how young boys should be—burning with energy, fierce, alive. Not… whatever this was. Too calm, too measured, too grown-up.
His maturity was reassuring, yes. But it also felt like he lacked the fiery spirit his age should carry.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I've eaten enough. Since my neck's better, I'll go make up for this morning's missed practice."
Toka sighed. She'd been brushed off again. She shouldn't have massaged his shoulders earlier—should've just let his stiff neck stay stuck, turn him into a lopsided little idiot.
Why did he always act so different from Rikka? They were the same age, yet he didn't have even a shred of childishness.
As Senya picked up his bokken and headed for the door, Haruno gently called out, "It's really hot out right now, you know. The sun's blazing."
"I'm a guy. What's a little heat?"
Besides, he could always find some shade under the trees to train. With that, he stepped outside.
Haruno tilted her head, amused. "Why doesn't he just practice inside?"
Toka answered matter-of-factly. "He says sweating indoors just makes the cleanup annoying if it splatters on the walls or floor. Easier to just train outside."
Haruno chuckled. "That's so like Senya."
"Eh…"
"What's with the sigh?"
"You don't get it…" Toka hesitated, then decided to just say it. "You know how I'm his stepsister, not related by blood? Even so, I've always treated him like my real little brother. I try to care for him. But he's… too mature. Instead, he ends up looking after me."
"Hmm…" Haruno rested her chin in thought, then slowly nodded. "I don't have a younger brother, but I can relate a little. My own sister's the same—mature, serious, always stiff. She makes me feel like the irresponsible one sometimes." She refilled their glasses. "Why don't you tell me more?"
Toka gave a long sigh. "When we first started living together, Mom was always busy. Sometimes she'd ask me to go home early and make dinner. But when I got back, Senya had already cooked everything. Not just dinner, either—he'd prepared bento for the next day too. And the worst part…"
Her voice dropped in despair.
"…his cooking was better than mine. Even Rikka would eat an entire extra bowl of rice if it was his food."
Haruno stifled a laugh. "That doesn't sound so bad. He's caring."
"But that's just it. I don't get to feel like an older sister. Every time I try to do something for him, I realize he doesn't need me. He can handle everything himself. It frustrates me. So sometimes, I make him run errands or use his shoulders for stretching, just to force him into the role of 'younger brother.' But even then, he just goes along without complaint, indulging me. It ends up making me look like some petty, childish brat instead."
"Pfft—haha—hahaha!"
Haruno finally burst into laughter.
"Not funny! Watch your TV!" Toka snapped at her sister, cheeks red.
"Sorry, sorry!" Haruno patted her head with a grin. "I just didn't expect you to be this cute. Lonely, wanting your little brother to cling to you—how sweet."
"Th-that's not it! I'm not lonely, and I don't want him clinging to me. I just… I just feel like he doesn't see me as his sister at all. Like he doesn't expect anything from me."
"If that were true, he wouldn't have shown up to cheer for you at your competition. Honestly, you've got it good, Toka. At least he cares for you. My little sister? All she wants is to surpass me in every way. She doesn't spare a single thought for how I feel. She sees me as this perfect role model, and the pressure of living up to that image is exhausting."
Haruno lifted her glass, watching the tiny bubbles rise.
"She never considers what it does to me. She just keeps chasing after me, expecting me to be flawless."
Toka stayed quiet for a moment, then tapped her glass against Haruno's.
"Having siblings like these… it really isn't easy."
"Sorry, but with Senya as your brother, I don't think I can sympathize much."
"You're impossible! No wonder Yukino doesn't like you!"
"That's harsh! I came here to celebrate with you, and this is the thanks I get?"
"Who started it, huh?"
Outside, Senya was unaware of their complaints, his bokken slicing the air again and again under the shade of a tree. With each precise swing, his kendo skill quietly ticked up—Level 4.
A week later, on Father's Day morning, Minamoto Sanada and Takanashi Junko stood at the entrance with luggage in hand. Both wore bright, blissful smiles.
"We're heading out."
"Toka, take care of your siblings while we're gone."
Toka nodded dutifully, though in her heart she thought: More like Senya will be taking care of us.
As the three kids saw them off, Senya hesitated before saying, "Dad… take care of Mom while you're away."
"Of course—wait, huh?!"
Sanada froze, realizing what had just happened.
Senya turned to Junko, keeping his tone casual. "Mom, make sure Dad doesn't drink too much."
This time, both Toka and Rikka gasped.
And Junko—her eyes welled up instantly, hands flying to her mouth to hide her trembling smile.
It was the first time Senya had ever called her "Mom."
Seeing this, Toka's cheeks flushed as she, too, gathered her courage. "D-dad… don't worry about the house. Just enjoy yourselves."
Now it was Sanada's turn to be struck speechless, his heart swelling at his daughter's words.
Only Rikka remained silent, caught off guard by how suddenly everything had shifted. She wasn't ready yet.
But Sanada didn't press. Just hearing Toka call him "Dad" was enough to make his day. Laughing heartily, he wrapped an arm around Junko's shoulders and promised to bring back souvenirs before leaving.
Once they were gone, Rikka's face clouded with guilt. But with Toka and Senya's gentle comfort, the feeling didn't last long. Next time, she thought. Next time I'll be ready to say it too.
Three days later, as dusk fell, Senya was sparring with Saeko Busujima at the kendo club when their homeroom teacher burst in, panting heavily, phone in hand.
"Senya! Your parents—they've been in a car accident!"
The bamboo sword slipped from Senya's numb fingers and clattered to the floor. His mind went completely blank.
Saeko dropped her own shinai and rushed to steady him, eyes wide.
But then the teacher quickly realized his poor wording. "Wait—it's not that serious! They were taken to the hospital, but they're okay. Don't panic!"
How can I not panic?!
Senya's heart restarted with a painful thud. "Tell me exactly what happened!"
Still catching his breath, the teacher explained, "Your father called the school. Their bus got into an accident. He couldn't reach you directly, so he asked me to find you here at the dojo."
Senya bolted for his bag, pulling out his phone. Several missed calls from his father. He dialed back immediately.
The call connected almost at once.
"Senya! Don't wo—"
"Dad, what about Mom?!" Senya's voice was sharp, urgent.
"She's right here with me. Hold on, I'll put her on speaker."
Junko's gentle voice came through next. "Senya, we're fine. Don't worry."
Only then did his knees buckle. He dropped to the floor in relief.
"Really, it was just a careless driver rear-ending the bus. Scary for a moment, but we only got some scrapes. Nothing serious."
They opened video chat, and seeing both parents looking healthy and smiling, Senya finally exhaled.
Sanada leaned closer to explain. "Senya, keep this between us. Don't tell Toka or Rikka, especially Rikka. She'd blame herself, thinking it was because of that prize trip. I don't want her carrying that guilt."
Senya nodded. He understood. But something still nagged at him.
His father was in a hospital gown. Junko wasn't.
"Dad. What aren't you telling me?"
"N-nothing."
"Turn the camera."
"…"
"Now."
Sanada sighed, and reluctantly complied.
Senya's expression hardened instantly at the sight of his father's leg, bound up like a mummy.
"It's nothing! Just a fracture. I've broken this leg three times before playing basketball in my youth—it heals. Give it time, I'll be fine! Trust me, Senya. Honestly, the driver was worse off—glass all over his face, blood everywhere. Probably scarred for life. You'll see it on the news tonight!"
Even Junko chimed in, reassuring him.
And looking closely, Senya could see it—her eyes were a little red, but not devastated.
So it was true. Serious, but not fatal.
"Fine. You'll be in the hospital for a while, then. I'll come tomorrow, bring you some clothes."
"You're just a middle schooler. Don't bother, we can buy things here."
"Either you let me come, or you figure out how to lie to Toka and Rikka yourself."
Sanada stared at him through the screen. At last, he sighed in defeat. "…Alright. But how are you going to explain your sudden absence?"
"I'll manage."
Just then, a doctor appeared on their side of the call. "Mr. Minamoto, how are you feeling?"
Senya hung up, setting his phone down with a deep, steadying breath.
Behind him, Saeko knelt softly. "I'm glad… your parents are safe."
Senya nodded once, exhaling slowly.