It was a little past seven in the evening.
The sun had already set, streetlights flickered to life one by one, and after a long and exhausting day, people poured out of their offices.
Groups of friends, arms slung around shoulders, wandered the streets in search of places to relax and blow off steam.
At the very back corner of Enishi, a stylish bar, Takanashi Toka sat with her younger sister.
From here, she had a perfect vantage point, able to take in the entire layout of the bar—every table, every stool, every customer.
Naturally, her gaze kept drifting toward her stepbrother. After changing into a sharp black-and-white uniform, he had looked awkward and stiff at first, but as the minutes ticked by, his bartending motions grew steadily smoother. She had watched the entire process from beginning to end.
"Woooah—!"
Behind the counter, dressed neatly in a bartender's vest, Minamoto Senya had just tossed a silver shaker into the air with a smooth spin and caught it behind his back. The trick drew a chorus of cheers and applause from the customers sitting nearby.
Every single one of them was a woman. Not a man in sight.
Seeing this, Toka suddenly understood why her mother always rushed over to pick up her father from work whenever she finished early.
Of course, part of it was because their relationship was so affectionate. But if her dad was surrounded by a crowd of lively, flirtatious women every night… then yes, her mom's sense of crisis must have been very real.
Still, was this really okay?
Toka's chest felt heavy as she watched her stepbrother surrounded by female patrons, chatting and laughing with ease.
She couldn't shake the guilt in her heart. After all, wasn't it the role of an older sister to look after her younger brother?
With a small sigh, she turned to glance at her little sister.
Rikka, visiting a bar for the very first time, was snapping pictures left and right with her phone, already planning to post them online later—and no doubt brag to her friends.
Toka suddenly found herself jealous of her sister's carefree, lighthearted way of living.
"Senya-kun, mix me a margarita," one sultry office lady crooned from the counter, eyes half-lidded with a teasing smile.
Senya froze. He had only been on the job for a little over an hour, and that… he didn't know how to make.
He was just about to tilt his head toward the manager for help when the woman leaned forward across the counter. Her cheeks were flushed from alcohol, and when she pressed herself against the bar, the weight was impossible not to notice.
"You don't know? That's fine, onee-san will teach you~ First, grab a lime. Slice off a little piece, and then gently squeeze out the juice, like this…"
The manager, watching from nearby, was practically grinning ear to ear.
Yes, his instincts had been right! The son of old man Sanada was even more dazzling than his father. He was practically born for this!
He didn't need to do anything. Just standing there, he was already a living, breathing advertisement for the bar.
A couple of flashy moves with a shaker, a few casual words, and the female customers were already getting exactly the emotional value they came for.
What a treasure he'd stumbled on.
The manager's mood, which had been so gloomy lately, instantly lifted. An idea struck him—an idea that could catapult his bar to new heights.
Just like men had a natural love for hearty rice bowls, maybe women were wired the same way for this kind of entertainment. If Sanada ever recovered from his injury, and the two of them—father and son—worked the bar together, the appeal would be unstoppable.
Of course, Senya had no idea what kind of grand business schemes the manager was spinning in his head.
He had only agreed because of the manager's sincere attitude and generous pay. It lined up perfectly with his recent thought that he needed to find a way to make money.
But as time passed, and the clock edged past eight, more and more women crowded around the counter. Their banter grew increasingly… suggestive.
Senya was starting to feel overwhelmed.
When women floored the accelerator, their speed left even veteran male "drivers" in the dust.
So, spotting a chance, he excused himself.
Despite the chorus of sighs and pleas from the female patrons, he firmly removed his vest.
It wasn't just about himself—Toka and Rikka were still waiting for him in the corner, after all.
And Toka's eyes, watching him from across the room, had been growing colder by the minute. Probably because she was sick of waiting.
At the entrance, the manager pressed a ten-thousand-yen note into Senya's hand. After thinking about the sales he'd made in just those few hours, he added another bill on top.
Senya hurriedly tried to refuse—after all, they had agreed on ten thousand beforehand. Besides, the manager had already treated Toka and Rikka to an entire spread of dishes from the restaurant next door.
And Rikka, being the little glutton she was, had eaten to her heart's content—polished off every plate, then went on to demolish two full fruit platters.
But the manager insisted, shoving the money into Senya's hand. He even hailed them a taxi and paid the fare in advance.
As they parted, the manager leaned against the cab door and said, "Senya-kun, think carefully about what I mentioned earlier. Come by whenever you've got the time—I'll pay you in cash at the end of every shift. Use the money to buy your sisters some nice gifts, eh?"
Senya nodded politely, promising he'd consider it.
By the time they got home, it was already past nine.
Rikka, thrilled about her first-ever bar experience, skipped off to the bath in high spirits.
In the living room, Senya pulled out the twenty-thousand yen from his pocket and handed it to Toka.
But Toka shook her head. "I don't want it. You earned this. Keep it for yourself."
"Don't be silly. What's yours is mine, and what's mine is yours. We're family, right? We'll use it together," Senya said, pushing the money into her hands.
Toka stared down at the bills, conflicted. "…You're not seriously planning to keep working at the bar, are you?"
Senya nodded. "Unless something unexpected happens, I probably will. The job's easy, the pay's generous, and it helps cover the gap in the household finances."
"But… what about your studies?" Toka started, then stopped herself.
She remembered what her father had said—her stepbrother was a prodigy, a straight-A genius who had never once fallen from the top of his class since grade school.
The other day, she'd been struggling with a high school math problem, and Senya had happened to walk by. With just a few strokes of his pen, he'd laid out the formula, and the answer had instantly clicked into place for her.
Senya, sensing her worry, reassured her: "Don't worry. Even if I take the job, I won't go every day. I still have my own things to do. At most, I'll cover a shift or two on weekends."
Who's really the head of this household here…?
Toka couldn't help but complain inwardly. The fact that she was the one being looked after by the stepbrother she was supposed to protect—it made her feel like she was failing at her role as an older sister.
"At the very least, call Dad and Mom about this and talk it over with them," she insisted, clinging to the last shred of her pride as an older sibling.
Senya didn't argue. He nodded obediently, then turned on the TV and flipped to the news.
In the kitchen, Toka unwrapped some cookies and poured a glass of milk, bringing them out to him.
Later that night, as Yukinoshita Haruno was getting ready for bed, her phone buzzed with a message.
It was from Toka.
I can't shake the feeling that I'm failing as an older sister.
Huh?
Had Senya done something to Toka again?
…