Raito's eyes fluttered open.
His senses adjusted instantly—sharp, aware, calculating. The familiar weight of Emi's small form resting on his chest grounded him, but the sudden presence of multiple unfamiliar voices in the room made the hairs on his neck stand up. Three.
He didn't move at first. Just listened.
"…he's even hotter up close," one girl whispered.
"I seriously thought he was an older actor or something. You sure he's your brother?"
"Don't be weird! I told you, he's my brother! Ugh…"
Raika.
Raito's jaw tensed as the pieces clicked. Raika. Idiot. She brought guests over without asking.
He inhaled slowly through his nose and exhaled through his mouth.
Alright. Act like a proper big brother. Smile. Maybe nod. Don't murder anyone.
With the grace of a lion stirring from a nap, Raito sat up smoothly. Emi grunted in her sleep but didn't wake. The moment he stood, all three girls straightened like deer caught in headlights. Raito didn't say a word—just gave a single curt nod toward the group like a general acknowledging his troops.
Then, with Emi in his arms, he turned and vanished down the hallway.
The girls stared after him.
"D-did he just… nod at us?"
"Like, the way warriors do in those serious anime before a final battle?"
Raika slapped her forehead and sighed.
"Why me?"
In Emi's nursery, Raito gently placed her in her crib, adjusting the blankets around her. She stirred for a moment, clutching the stuffed Kawai Kitty plush he'd reluctantly given her earlier, and then settled again.
Raito looked at her for a second longer.
"…Good girl."
Then he turned and headed back out, throwing on a simple charcoal gray shirt as he walked. The voices quieted the moment he re-entered the room, and he immediately noticed the subtle disappointment on the girls' faces.
Tch. They were hoping I'd stay shirtless? Perverts.
Still, he kept his expression neutral. His steps were measured, his voice low and clear.
"You brought guests without asking again," he said to Raika.
Her face went pale. "I—I know, I just thought—!"
"I'm not angry," he interrupted. "But next time, text first."
He moved past them into the kitchen. The way he tied the apron with one smooth tug made Nanami and Hikari blink.
Raika watched with an odd mix of pride and dread. "Wait… are you… cooking?"
"I don't like feeding people junk," Raito said coolly, already pulling ingredients from the fridge. "And Emi doesn't like the smell of takeout."
There was a short silence, and then—
"Umm, w-we don't want to be a bother or anything—" Nanami started.
"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Raito asked, not even turning to look at them.
Raika whipped her head around, mouth open in shock. He asked!?
The girls froze.
Then both Nanami and Hikari nodded so fast it looked like they were vibrating. "Yes! We'd love to!"
Raito internally sighed.
Of course they said yes.
As he chopped vegetables with the casual elegance of a professional chef, Kurai's voice drifted in, barely restrained amusement in his tone.
"My, my. Look at you. Mister Responsible. Mister Domestic. You're practically a shoujo manga lead now. Should I be worried about your brand, Raito?"
Raito didn't respond. He just picked up the tofu with the tip of the knife, slid it cleanly into the pan, and turned the heat on.
Behind him, the girls whispered about how good it smelled.
And in the middle of it all, Raika sat quietly, red-faced, unsure whether to feel proud or terrified that her totally-not-boyfriend, demon-contracted, emotionally-suppressed roommate was now passing as the most desirable "older brother" figure ever to walk the planet.