Aki, desperately smoothing out the crumpled "proposal" Kagura had balled up, thrust it toward Eriri. "Eriri, take a look—your brother's too much, trashing my hard work… w-waaah, what are you doing?!"
Eriri, outdoing Kagura's disdain, snatched it, tore it down the middle with a *rip-rip*, folded the halves, and shredded them into four strips. Arms crossed, she swung her right leg huffily. "I trust even an idiot like Kagura's got enough sense to judge *that* garbage."
"You're brutal to me," Kagura muttered, clenching his fist in the air.
His mind flicked to this morning—his right hand on Eriri's thigh.
"Pfft—*cough, cough*… urgh!" Aki hacked as if spitting blood, clutching his chest with a dying whimper.
Hayasaka, adopting a prim tone, half-covered her lips. "Sawamura, you're quite different privately with your brother than at school."
Eriri shot a fierce glare, slamming Hayasaka's foot under the table. "Speaking of, I'm curious what *you're* like off-stage, Hayasaka."
Their eyes locked, thoughts simmering—
*Eriri: Damn fox-doll, stirring trouble again.*
*Hayasaka: Oh, I love riling up Miss Eriri when she's helpless~*
"Where's Qiong?" Kagura asked.
"What, only care about Qiong, not me?" Eriri leaned forward, chin propped, glaring.
"…I meant why isn't she with you."
"Same thing!"
"I didn't say I don't care—you're my precious sister!"
"Ugh… fine," Eriri mumbled, embarrassed, glancing out. She nodded toward the window. "She was in the car, didn't want to bake in the sun, so I sent her home."
"How'd you find me, then?"
Kagura's curiosity piqued.
"I-I just… passed by and *happened* to spot you! *Happened*!" Eriri slammed the table, voice rising. "So I got out to check…"
"Even in front of classmates, can't you tone down that unladylike act, Eriri?" Aki chided.
Classmate—meaning Hayasaka.
But Hayasaka knew Eriri's true colors better than Aki—down to her choice of underwear.
"What's it to you? Kagura's not complaining!" Eriri snapped at Aki.
"Exactly. My sister's perfect as is," Kagura said, mimicking her earlier leg-swing, arms crossed.
"So you two *are* close…" Aki sighed, deflated.
"Anyway!" Eriri kicked Kagura under the table, jerking her head at Hayasaka. "That Galgame—what's the plan? Trashing it means you're done, right?"
Kagura eyed Aki's navy notebook. "I thought he had something usable. If he did, I'd have made it behind your back."
"Behind *my* back? Why hide it? It's not shady! And didn't you say you're not into Galgames?"
"I'm not, but you love them. I planned to surprise you with one for your next birthday."
"A g-gift—for *me*?" Eriri gasped, hands cupping her flushed cheeks, squirming.
"Yeah… that was the idea," Kagura sighed, spreading his hands. "But his 'proposal' is useless. Guess it's scrapped."
"Then… since his is trash, why not write one yourself?" Eriri mumbled, scratching her cheek.
"Me?" Kagura pointed at himself.
"What's the issue?"
"Why should *I* do the heavy lifting?"
"You just said I'm your precious sister! Backtracking already? Hay—*cough*—Hayasaka heard you!" Eriri, flustered, dragged Hayasaka in.
Hayasaka, less invested than Kagura, feigned ignorance. "Hm? What was that, Sawamura?"
"Forget it, zip it," Eriri growled, kicking Kagura again. "Don't wimp out so fast!"
"That's no way to talk to your brother! And that metaphor's awful!"
"Then make one and prove it!"
Kagura propped his chin, glancing at Aki. "If I do, I'd handle music. You expect me to do music *and* the proposal? That's slavery."
"So what's your fix?" Eriri slapped the table, pointing at a baffled Aki. "I'm not working under *him* as an artist!"
"Me producing's *that* bad?" Aki protested.
"Yeah! It's *that* bad! Utterly pathetic!" Kagura and Eriri roared in unison, silencing Aki into a cowering ball.
"You really want that birthday gift, huh?" Kagura snapped his fingers, winking at Eriri.
"Why not?" She crossed her arms, huffing and turning away. "No girl hates a gift needing art, music, script, and code."
"…I doubt many girls want Galgames as gifts," Kagura muttered.
"Shut up! I like it, that's enough!"
"Really?" Kagura nudged Aki's foot, sighing. "Look at my spoiled sister—tch. Guess I'm stuck producing… and you—"
"P-protagonist?" Aki's face lit up.
"Errand boy." Kagura doused him coldly, snapping again. "Start by learning to write a proposal. Ten thousand words, to me."
"You some capitalist tyrant?" Aki whined.
"Write it or scram. I'll find someone who can."
"Fine, fine, Lord Kagura, I'll write!" Aki raised his hands in surrender.
"You're really doing it…" Eriri muttered, hiding her glee.
Kagura ruffled her hair, grinning. "What else, for my precious sister?"
"Pfft—" Eriri stuck out her tongue, unappreciative.
Hayasaka let out a faint hum, side-eyeing Eriri.
"Alright, proposal and legwork's on me!" Aki thumped his chest, adjusting his glasses. "But one big issue remains!"
"What?" Kagura asked listlessly.
Aki pointed at the even less enthused Hayasaka. "You, producer, and our heroine Hayasaka barely grasp ACG's charm. I need to school you both!"
"…I think Kagura gets it," Eriri whispered.
She recalled his 1TB stash—doujins and cosplay videos: a quarter "2D legs & footjobs," a quarter "toy play," the rest "cosplay cunnilingus" and "cosplayer masturbation." Cringe-inducing stuff.
"Hold on, Aki. I never said I'm in," Hayasaka raised a hand.
"That wasn't a yes earlier?!" Aki gaped.
"Nope." She clapped, smiling.
"So, you joining? Please, you *must*!"
"Well…" Hayasaka glanced at Kagura, who winked. "Hayasaka, join us."
"Then, please take care of me." She stood, bowing slightly, hands smoothing her skirt.
Aki was speechless, leg trembling, muttering *damn*.
Kagura shot Hayasaka a sly look. "Hayasaka, let's visit Aki's place for that 'lesson.'"
"If Sawamura insists… alright." She sat, smiling.
"Good, perfect!" Aki patted his chest, clenching a fist. "I'll make you *love* 2D culture and Galgames!"
"Less talk, when?" Kagura's toes grazed Hayasaka's under the table.
He had no real interest in lessons—nor did she. Her glance confirmed: at Aki's, while he geeked out, they'd "misbehave." Toying with another's goddess thrilled even Kagura.
"This Saturday, 10:30 AM?" Aki tilted his head. "But why not your place? It's huge—better for girls, easier to host."
"Girls, sure. You? Trouble."
"Fair, forget I asked," Aki scratched his head, then frowned. "But if you're out, just Smith A. Hashaka at your place? That guy's crazy suave—safe?"
"Oh… Hashaka. You remember him," Kagura said, eyeing Hayasaka's aloof act, stifling a laugh. "Hashaka's into guys. Naked beauties do nothing for him—no issue."
*Hayasaka: Thanks a ton, jerk.*
"Pfft—*cough, cough*!" Aki sprayed coffee sideways.
"You and Hashaka give me chills…" Eriri shivered, rubbing her arms.
Hayasaka shot her a silent glare, humming faintly.
*Lady Hayasaka = aloof maid Hayasaka = weepy butler Hashaka.*
Kagura bit back laughter, thinking: *Tell Aki Hashaka drinks my essence daily, he'd drop dead.*
At checkout, Eriri's order went on Kagura's tab; Aki paid his own coffee—Kagura wasn't stingy with friends (not that he had many), but no generosity for fools eyeing his girl.
Eriri had sent Qiong home, so she rode with Kagura. Hayasaka took a separate car, maintaining their "no connection" facade.
In the car, Nao, the driver, teased, "Miss Eriri, riding with Master Kagura today?"
"Caught him with a *weird* woman, so I checked it out—sent Qiong back."
"Weird woman?" Nao's tone turned gossipy.
"It's Hayasaka… Nao-nee, I just had tea with her, and Eriri stormed in. So wronged," Kagura said, rolling his eyes, ruffling Eriri's hair.
"I see…" Nao sighed, dropping the gossip.
"I-I misjudged, okay? Can't I slip up? Better kill ten thousand than miss one!" Eriri huffed. "What if I was right?"
"Your mistake, and you paint me like some skirt-chasing sleaze!"
Kagura pinched her cheeks; she swatted him, ponytail whipping. "Idiot, idiot! That hurt! So natural pinching your sister's face?"
"Should I pinch Hayasaka's?"
"No way!" Eriri cooled instantly, grabbing his collar, lips pursed. "She's a girl—even your maid. Hands off, or it'll look bad."
—*Close call, almost said 'doll-face' in front of her mom.*
"…" Kagura's mouth twitched, speechless.
—*Hands, feet, chest, and core already moved. Now what?*
Home for Hayasaka's birthday, a small celebration unfolded. After washing up, Kagura planned to play piano when his door clicked. Qiong, clutching a black rabbit plush, stood listlessly. "Kagura, Eriri wants you."
Qiong never knocked—her "master key" opened nearly every door. She and Hayasaka each had one; the other three were with head maids.
"…Great timing," Kagura muttered.
Freshly bathed, Qiong wore a silvery sleep dress, towel over shoulders, long flaxen hair cascading, its short hem baring slender legs—temptingly pale.
Her glare met his, followed by a huff and swift exit.
*Damn, Qiong'll hate me.*
Last night's talk with Hayasaka—about Qiong—stirred him, his groin tightening.
Concealing it, he trailed her to Eriri's room.
Their three-story mansion housed Kagura, Eriri, and their mother on the third floor; the second held studios, music rooms, and guest suites; the first had halls, studies, and parlors. The attic and roof didn't count.
Unlike Kagura's purple-gold room, Eriri's was melon-green—lime wallpaper with pear motifs, emerald bedding, gold-trimmed canopy and posts echoing his style. A white wooden door, pink-purple curtains, a vast wardrobe, and a vanity screamed "teen girl." At fifty square meters, it dwarfed Qiong's nested, modest quarters—ample for a lone maid.
"Then, you two chat…" Qiong glanced at Kagura, yawning, rabbit in tow, and slipped into her room, shutting the partition with a *click*.
Like Hayasaka's, it closed but didn't lock—maids stayed ever-ready.
Kagura shut the door; Eriri pointed. "Lock it."
"What's with the secrecy?"
He locked it, approaching her desk.
Identical to his—two meters wide, drawers flanking, a silver trash bin aside—it held a Hayasaka-built PC left and her art setup right. Usually one chair; now two, one for him.
"So… I've got something to discuss," Eriri said, not in her usual tee and sweats but a yellow princess dress over a short-sleeve blouse, damp hair tied in twin tails with black ribbons—primly ladylike.
"Oh?" Kagura plopped down, glancing at her sketch: a rough female-on-top pose. Qiong's sleep dress had roused him; this hardened him further.
Erect in front of his sister—awkward. He propped his chin, feigning calm. "What's up?"
"Um…" Eriri fidgeted, tapping her index fingers, mumbling, "You serious about that Galgame?"
"Yeah, as your birthday gift."
"It's *your* birthday too."
Her black thigh-highs brushed his leg as she turned.
"Well, true."
"So…" She looked away, whispering, "Who's your artist?"
"Hm…" Kagura coughed, scratching his cheek. "It's for you—having you draw feels off."
"Then…" Eriri's head dipped, fist pressing his chest. "You picking that Shiina Mashiro?"
"Huh? I never mentioned her. Why bring her up?"
"Hmph…" Tears brimmed as she glared. "Some brother, hiding a fiancée!"
"I'm not marrying her!"
"Really?!" Her eyes sparkled.
"Why're you so thrilled? Whatever," Kagura sighed, nodding at her sketch. "No marriage, no Mashiro as artist."
"Then who's drawing?"
"Haven't decided—taking my time."
"…" Eriri stared, bare foot stomping his. "You don't know other artists! It'll end up me anyway!"
"No, I don't want you to—it's *your* gift."
"Just ask me, idiot!" She shook his shoulders, tears flying. "Can't you see I want in?! You know I'm a doujin geek—care about my feelings, you sea-urchin-brained jerk!"
"…" Kagura winced, ears ringing, muttering, "Say you want in, then. Why make me beg?"
"I'm a girl—I want to be *asked*, not shamelessly volunteer!"
"Your words are all kinds of wrong."
"Enough!" She yanked his collar. "I'm drawing—any complaints?"
"None." He shrugged, rolling his eyes.
"Good." Smiling, she released him, clapping. "One more thing."
"Go on, I'm your brother."
"…"
He agreed readily, but Eriri blushed, head down.
"Speak?"
"…"
She dodged his gaze, shy.
Sighing, he leaned in. "Whisper it."
She murmured, "Recent comments… two big critiques. One says… my kisses look fake."
"Hm? What's the plan?"
He tilted his head; she pulled him back.
"So… I'm asking you."
"What, practice kissing *me*?!"
"No way, idiot!" She stomped his foot, fuming. "I'll get Qiong—you kiss her, I'll draw."
"What?!" Kagura waved frantically. "No way, don't do that."
Qiong already sensed his odd looks—this would bury him.
"Ugh! Then help me! And don't say that doll-face."
"…" Cut off, he slumped, rolling his eyes.
They sat, sulking, until Eriri nudged his foot, whispering, "How about… we…"
His ears perked. "That'll work?"
"I'm a girl and I say it's fine—quit yapping! Get it!"
Kagura sighed, fetched an unopened cling film roll from the kitchen, and returned.
Eriri was on her bed, sketch stashed, sitting duck-style, cheeks pink, waiting.
He locked the door without prompting and neared.
"You just standing there? Get up here," she patted the bed, matter-of-fact.
"We haven't shared a bed since we were six."
He sat—kneeling, unlike her.
"Of course—six years, no co-bed!" She puffed her chest, then leaned in, serious. "But today's special. Readers' hate makes me want to die—you won't let me, right?"
"Stop with the 'die' talk. If criticism kills you, grow a tougher heart."
"Whatever—got the stuff?"
She eyed the cling film box, red-faced.
Kagura dangled it, smirking.
"Then… let's do it. Tear a big piece—don't skimp."
She pointed, as if it might bite.
"You're really practicing this with your brother?"
He unrolled twenty centimeters, slicing it with the box's serrated edge.
"I've got no choice!" She glanced out, muttering, "Should I practice with someone else?"
"Name the guy you're thinking—I'll gut him." Kagura mimed sharpening a blade.
Someone after his sister? *Snip*—castration, stuffed in their mouth.
"Gut your head! There's no guy! If there was, I wouldn't ask you. High school girl practicing *this* with her brother—you think I'm not mortified?!"
"Don't call it 'this'—sounds illicit."
"It *is* illicit…"
"Uh…"
They locked eyes, awkward.
Eriri closed hers, tilting her chin, lips glossy and pink.
Kagura swallowed hard, imagining no film…
Nope—her kick would end his line.
He held the film between them… and leaned in.
She shoved him flat, sprawling him backward, nearly snapping his neck.
"Eriri, what the hell—?!"
He clutched his neck, scrambling up.
"Y-y-you—! You actually went for it!" She hugged her chest, legs tucked, shrinking back. "Pervert! Sis-con freak!"
"…" Kagura flipped her off, hopping off. "Fine, I'm out, moron."
"No, wait!" She crawled, clutching his hem. "I overreacted—bad state. One more try."
"If you shove me again, I'll—"
He sat, cracking his neck.
"Do what?"
"Pick you up and spank you hard."
He mimed *smack-smack*.
She covered her rear, blushing. "Pervert… I'm seventeen, and you'd spank me?"
"Seventeen—bet it's nice and bouncy."
He grinned, eyeing her hips.
"Eek!" She shook her head, hugging herself, glaring. "No, foul! No butt talk!"
"Fine." He tore another twenty-centimeter sheet. "Ready?"
"…" She clutched her skirt. "You wouldn't… ditch the film and sneak a real kiss, right?"
"Am I *that* low in your eyes?"
"Well… fair," she muttered, then stared, whispering, "By the way, can you kiss?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
He countered, smug.
"Oh? Who's the girl… though, 100% doll-face, right?"
"…" He slow-clapped, deadpan. "Congrats, nailed it."
"Your bedmaid doll obeys everything~" Eriri sneered, then sighed, closing her eyes. "Whatever, come on."
She tilted her chin again, lips offered.
Her body tensed, her secret garden already damp.
Kagura held the film; she peeked, confirmed it, and shut her eyes.
He pressed his lips to hers—through the film.
Its thinness conveyed her warmth, lip balm's slick softness. She stiffened, lips frozen, eyes popping open to stare.
Kagura closed his, immersed in this not-quite-kiss.
Teaching her meant focus—no half-measures.
Her face burned, sweat beading, hands clutching sheets, feeling his heat.
His lips parted slightly; she mimicked, their faces tilting to avoid bumping noses.
—*This… is kissing? The film's so thin… his touch comes through… bad, super bad!*
Too late, she realized: film-kissing equaling no kiss was as false as "condoms mean no sex."
She wanted to push—but Kagura, in the zone, pinned her down, left hand on her shoulder, right stroking her golden ponytail, forehead, crown. Her body melted, resistance gone.
As her brother, he *had* to teach her properly—she'd begged him not to let her "die."
His left leg wedged between hers, blocking closure. Struggling tightened the press of his knee, sparking fear. She nearly yelped, but his gentle caress—brushing her damp eye, wiping a tear—soothed her instantly.
—*Good, good… he's not a mindless beast.*
Relieved, she didn't notice his frustration—her lips and breaths were off-rhythm. Deciding to up the ante, he slipped his tongue forward.
Eriri, doujin veteran, knew tongue-kissing—but wasn't ready. She tried pushing, but her arms betrayed her, limp. Her body complied against her will.
Her nipples perked; her core soaked, alarming her. Breaths quickened, laced with sultry whimpers.
Soon, her tongue followed his lead. On her bed, they melded—lips locked, no saliva swapped, yet thrilling.
The taboo of his sister beneath him fueled Kagura; his arousal grazed her thigh and skirt.
She knew *what*—and cringed.
Feigning ignorance, she matched his kiss fully.
They tangled for fifteen minutes.
Panting, Kagura flopped beside her. Eriri tore off the film, crumpled it, and gulped air.
Silence hung, charged with illicit harmony.
This sibling sin enthralled them, hearts pounding.
He reached for her hand; she pinched him, muttering, "God, Kagura… never noticed before, but you're such a twisted creep."
"You *told* me to do it!"
"Do it just 'cause I said? I'm your sister! What if we crossed a line? Could you handle it?"
"You, drawing bro-sis SM doujins, dare judge *me*?"
"No way! Don't mix 2D and reality! My art's my freedom—constitutionally protected!"
She kicked him, fuming.
Then, the system chimed: "Lord Kagura, a bounty—"
"Skip it!"
"Skipped. You've received [Stand-In Doll]."
Mind clearing, he asked, "What's a Stand-In Doll?"
"Like *Bleach*'s gigai—a perfect replica of you, only able to sleep, nothing else. Usable infinitely, but you must be in a sleep-ready pose. Others seeing it think, 'Kagura's sleeping, don't disturb.'"
"Hm…" He pondered. "So I'm free to roam? Sounds pointless—what's it for?"
"There's more. When active, you're invisible and can phase through walls, doors, windows. Toggle invisibility with 'Stand-In Doll, activate!' and 'Stand-In Doll, deactivate!' in your mind. Deactivating returns you instantly to the doll's spot, even from Antarctica mid-penguin brawl."