How Do You Make Friends?
If it had been Minamoto Senya who asked Yukino that same question, she would have assumed he was just trying to pick a fight.
But coming from Eriri, it didn't seem strange at all. In fact, it felt completely natural.
Still, even Yukino wasn't some all-knowing "Snow-no-doraemon."
There were some things she couldn't help with—not because she didn't want to, but because she simply didn't have the experience to draw from.
Yet, when it came to that twin-tailed girl who trusted her so sincerely, Yukino couldn't bring herself to disappoint her. After a long inner struggle, she finally sent back a reply:
[Just be sincere.]
Even as she typed it, Yukino felt a pang of guilt. Nobody could say this was the wrong answer… but strictly speaking, those four words were so broad they could mean almost anything.
Still, the moment Eriri saw the reply, her eyes lit up. The fog that had clogged her brain suddenly cleared away, and in that instant she felt like she'd become smarter, sharper—like she had just achieved enlightenment.
She understood.
[Thank you, Yukino! I get it now!]
Yukinoshita Yukino: "…"
She had no idea what exactly Eriri had "gotten," but judging by the girl's mood, it really did look like she had learned something. And for Yukino, that was good enough.
That afternoon, when school ended, Eriri—for the first time in what felt like ages—walked home together with Minamoto Senya again.
Something that had once felt so ordinary had returned, and to her surprise, it was so, so precious.
As they waited by the counter of a bubble tea shop for their orders, Senya suddenly asked out of nowhere:
"Eriri, Rikka—what kind of gifts make girls happy at your age?"
Huh?
Both girls perked up instantly, the exact same thought flashing across their minds:
Is Senya going to give me a present?!
Eriri's heart quietly buzzed with shy, giddy delight. But Rikka was far more direct. The ahoge on her head—usually curved like a lazy hook—stood up straight and rigid with excitement.
"Senya, are you planning to give us something?" she blurted.
Meeting her expectant gaze, Senya's smile was as bright and carefree as a summer sky. But the words that followed were as merciless as a winter gale:
"Yeah, I am giving a gift. But not to you two. It's for Busujima-senpai. I just wanted to hear your opinions as reference."
In that instant, Rikka completely lost interest. "Then give her a nail clipper. Every girl likes nail clippers."
Senya's eyes narrowed in mock thought. "Got it. I'll give you nail clippers for your birthday too, then."
Rikka's face turned pale on the spot.
Eriri felt a twinge of disappointment, but she quickly realized—this might actually be the chance Yukino had hinted at. A perfect opportunity to reach out to Busujima Saeko, with sincerity.
"Senya, is it Busujima-senpai's birthday soon?"
"No," he said. "I just wanted to thank her. She's been taking such good care of me—teaching me every detail of kendo with such patience. This would just be a token of gratitude."
"I see…"
If it was just a thank-you gift, then Eriri had no grounds to give one herself. She would have to think of another way.
So she offered, earnestly, "In that case… Busujima-senpai is really passionate about kendo. Maybe you could think of a gift related to that? Something that matches her interests?"
Oh. When you put it that way, it did sound like a solid idea.
"You're right," Senya nodded. "Thanks, Eriri."
"It's nothing! I'm just glad I could help."
Her cheeks burned crimson. She turned her face away from his gaze, only daring to peek back once he looked elsewhere.
Eriri had thought Senya was handsome since elementary school. But ever since he began practicing kendo, his smile seemed to shine brighter and brighter. When he smiled up close… it almost made her dizzy.
No, it had to be her imagination.
When Senya and Rikka got home, they found that Tokika was already there unusually early.
But instead of her usual relaxed self, her face was tight and stormy—clear proof she was in a foul mood.
Senya had already guessed. These past few days lined up with Tokika's "bad mood" time of the month.
He'd even prepared in advance. The moment they stepped inside, he handed her the warm drink he had bought for her from the shop.
But Tokika's expression didn't soften one bit. In fact, when she met his eyes, the irritation seemed even sharper.
That uneasy feeling gnawed at Senya. A few troubling guesses began to form in his mind.
Rikka grabbed some fruit from the kitchen and retreated to her room under the excuse of homework, leaving only Senya and Tokika in the living room.
"Tokika, what's wro—"
Before he could finish, Tokika stepped forward, slamming her hand against the wall by his head in a dramatic kabedon.
The problem was, she was in her first year of high school, while her stepbrother—though unrelated by blood—was already taller than her, despite still being in middle school. The height difference made the whole scene oddly comical.
"Stop looking down your nose at me."
"…." Senya dropped his head obediently.
But it didn't help—she was still annoyed. What was the point of him being this tall anyway?!
She grabbed his arm, spun him around, and pushed him down onto the sofa. Leaning in, she pinned him there—her left hand braced against the backrest, her right hand clutching the tie of his school uniform.
This time, looming above him, she finally felt like she had the upper hand.
At last, the dignity of an elder stepsister (with no blood relation) had been restored!
"Senya," she demanded, "be honest with me. Are you hiding something from me?"
"Huh? What do you mean?" His reply was flawless, giving nothing away.
"Don't play dumb. Just as I got home, the house phone rang. Guess who it was?"
Senya shook his head blankly.
"It was the manager from Dad's workplace. And guess what he told me?"
Senya didn't need to guess—he already knew where this was going.
"He said Dad should focus on his recovery, and that once he's healed, to let them know so they can adjust the shifts and bring him back to work."
Senya winced. His foolish father—how could he make such a rookie mistake?!
"Didn't Dad and Mom say they were taking an extended trip? What's this about recovery?!"
Her sharp, worried eyes left Senya with no escape. Realizing the secret couldn't be kept anymore, he told her everything.
When Tokika heard the truth, her brows knit together. With a pained look, she dropped her forehead against his shoulder, her body curling weakly beside him.
"Hey, you're already not feeling well. Don't get worked up over this."
Senya gently sat her back down on the sofa, then slipped into her room to fetch her pink pig-shaped hot water bottle.
Inside, Rikka had her back to the door, earphones in, glued to her phone. She wasn't doing homework at all and didn't even notice Senya come in.
Once he had filled the hot water bottle, Senya handed it to Tokika. She pressed it against her stomach through her clothes, and finally, some of the tension in her brow eased.
"This is a huge deal, and you still tried to hide it from me? Don't think I'll forgive you that easily."
"Dad insisted on it. It wasn't really my choice," Senya said without hesitation. His moral compass was flexible at best—throwing his dad under the bus didn't bother him in the slightest.
Still, since it was his father, he added a word in his defense:
"He just didn't want you two to worry, that's all."
Tokika said nothing.
After a moment of silence, she finally spoke again. "So basically, Dad's planning to stay put until his leg fully recovers. That way, Rikka won't feel guilty about it."
"Yeah."
"And Mom will be by his side to take care of him. Which means, for now, it'll just be the three of us living here."
"Yeah."
…