Evening at Home,
The evening had settled in, and the Gojo residence was filled with the faint hum of the television.
Gojo Satoru sprawled lazily on the living room sofa, legs dangling over one side, swiping endlessly through short videos on his phone. His snow-white hair caught the faint glow of the TV screen, which was running some overly dramatic romance drama.
Not that he was watching.
Gojo never watched those things seriously. He just needed the background noise.
A silent house always felt… wrong.
"Onii-chan!"
The sudden voice of his little sister, Umaru, rang out from the bathroom.
Gojo lazily tilted his head, not looking away from his phone.
"Mm? What's up?"
There was a short pause, followed by a slightly embarrassed tone.
"Can you bring me a new bath towel? The one in the bathroom got completely soaked. It's in my room, bottom drawer of the wardrobe. You'll see it right away."
Gojo groaned dramatically, tossing his phone onto the sofa cushion.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it. Don't flood the place."
Dragging himself off the sofa, he trudged into Umaru's room. The door creaked slightly as he opened her wardrobe.
Inside, sure enough, there was a neatly folded stack of towels.
But right beside them…
Gojo's ice-blue eyes widened slightly behind his blindfold. His fingers pinched up something soft and lacy—a bra.
Instead of flinching or averting his gaze like a normal brother might, Gojo smirked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully like a detective analyzing a crime scene.
"Oh? Well, well. Looks like my little Umaru's finally growing up. The style's getting a little bolder, huh? Size isn't bad either. Tsk, tsk."
He rotated the bra between his fingers as if he were examining a priceless artifact, muttering his "observations" aloud with all the seriousness in the world.
After indulging his curiosity for a good ten seconds, Gojo put it back exactly where he found it—though a little crooked—and finally grabbed the fresh towel.
With the towel in hand, he walked over to the bathroom and knocked on the door.
Knock-knock-knock-
"Mm—"
The lock clicked softly. The bathroom door creaked open just enough for a pale arm to slip out.
"Here, Onii-chan, give it to me."
Gojo handed over the towel but, of course, he couldn't resist opening his mouth.
"By the way, Umaru… growing up is fine, but don't go choosing such bold styles. The boys out there? They're all — perverts just waiting to trick you. Be careful, got it?"
The arm froze mid-motion.
Silence.
The atmosphere grew heavy. The tension could almost be seen crackling in the air.
And then—
"ONII-CHAN, YOU PERVERT!!!"
Umaru's shriek erupted from the bathroom like an explosion.
Gojo winced, covering his ears dramatically.
"Oi, oi, what's with that reaction? I was just giving my adorable little sister some advice. Responsible older brother stuff!"
Even as he defended himself, he knew how it sounded out loud.
Yeah… okay, it did sound a bit pervy. But there was no way he was going to admit that.
"Ahem-!"
Coughing awkwardly, he straightened his shoulders. I'm just being a protective brother. Yep. That's it. Nothing else.
Meanwhile, inside the bathroom, Umaru's face burned scarlet. She understood what he meant, but the sheer embarrassment was too much. She pressed the towel against her face, wishing she could sink into the floor.
Why did I even ask him to help? Ugh… and that bra was right there in the drawer too…!!
"Alright, alright, I won't say anything else," Gojo called through the door, trying to smooth over the situation. "Just finish drying off and come out. Dinner's not gonna eat itself."
His footsteps retreated toward the living room.
Umaru finally exhaled shakily, muttering under her breath.
"Baka… stupid Onii-chan…"
.....
A few minutes later, the bathroom door creaked open. Umaru peeked her head out, scanning the living room cautiously.
On the sofa sat Gojo, chin resting in one hand, eyes lazily fixed on the TV. His phone lay beside him, untouched.
The screen played out an overly cheesy drama scene, prompting Gojo to click his tongue in annoyance.
"Seriously? Another forced love triangle? The male lead's dumber than a curse spirit. Who even writes this junk?"
As if sensing her gaze, he suddenly turned his head.
Their eyes met.
A silent staring contest stretched on for ten long seconds.
In the end, it was Gojo who gave up, clicking his tongue and turning back to the TV.
Umaru puffed up her cheeks in triumph.
Heh, guilty conscience huh!
But the memory of her bra being mentioned earlier resurfaced, and her face flared red again. She shook her head quickly, trying to bury the embarrassment, and instead put on her usual smug little-sister mask.
She strolled over, then without warning, flopped down directly onto Gojo's chest.
Gojo blinked down at her. …Girls are so confusing. She's shy over underwear, but throwing herself onto me like this is totally fine?
"Hmmph—" Umaru huffed softly, settling comfortably against him as she pulled out her phone.
But just as she was about to start scrolling, a big hand gently pushed her phone back.
"Oi. Don't hold it so close to your face. You'll ruin your eyes."
"Yeah, yeah, stinky Onii-chan," Umaru muttered, but her lips curled into a faint smile.
Gojo smirked back. Hmph. She can call me stinky all she wants. This is what big brothers are for.
And so, under the glow of the TV and the hum of background noise, the two siblings continued their oddly heartwarming, chaotic evening.
Just another day in the life of Gojo Satoru.
...
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