Carefully setting the guitar down, Kotomi Izumi then began to put away her schoolbag and the guitar case separately.

Since she still had to cook later, Kotomi didn't change into her pajamas right away—she just removed her top down to her shirt.

She opened the packaging and took out the guitar. Melody flowed from her fingertips. Though she had chosen it simply because it was the same model as Yui Hirasawa's, after strumming a few simple notes, the tone matched exactly what Kotomi had envisioned.

Opening the off-white guitar case, she placed the guitar inside, zipped it up, and tried slinging it over her back. The weight was still within an acceptable range.

"Starting tomorrow, I'll carry my guitar case to school. With the guitar on my back and a schoolbag in hand, people might think I've transferred to the music department."

Kotomi chuckled to herself and, after stashing the guitar like a precious treasure, headed downstairs to cook for her beloved little sister.

"Aimi, is there anything in particular you want for dinner?"

With her snow-white short hair tied into a short ponytail using a scrunchie and wearing a pink apron, Kotomi asked Aimi Izumi, who was lounging in the living room eating chips and watching TV.

Her little sister was now in her third year of middle school, and just reviewing for exams was exhausting enough every day. Once she got home, Kotomi was happy to pamper her and let her be lazy.

"As long as it's made by Onee-chan, I'll love it!"

"Are you eating honey cheese-flavored chips? Why is your answer so sweet—it's melting me," Kotomi joked, playing along.

"Nope, I'm having Mexican chicken tomato flavor. And anyway, doesn't Lay's not even have a honey cheese flavor?"

"Oh, you're eating Lay's? I thought you were munching on that honey cheese-flavored bag I bought a while ago. It's from a different brand—I hadn't tried it before and wanted to see how it tasted."

"Ah! You mean that bag? Mom ate most of it. I had a few chips—it was alright, just a bit too sweet. I still prefer savory ones."

Kotomi gave a wry smile. "So I didn't even get a single chip, huh? Haha… I'll just buy another bag next time."

Tying her apron securely, Kotomi opened the fridge and glanced at its contents. There were green peppers and minced pork—perfect for making stuffed peppers. She also had two blocks of tofu and some green onions.

One block would go into miso soup with green onions, and the other would become mapo tofu. The last time she made that dish for Aimi, her little sister really liked it.

There were some leftover fried chicken pieces from last night—perfect for reheating and finishing off.

And a few packs of ready-to-eat sashimi sides, which would work nicely as cold appetizers.

"Aimi, come pick a side dish. There's a bunch of flavors—see which one you want."

"Coming, coming!"

Aimi dashed over barefoot, not even bothering with slippers.

"I want this one!"

Aimi grabbed a box of wasabi octopus.

"Wasabi octopus is super spicy—one bite and you might be too stunned to speak," Kotomi warned. That particular dish had left the deepest impression on her, all because of its intense flavor. Just one bite had made her eyes tear up.

"Then... maybe with a little beer?"

Aimi pointed excitedly at a few cans of beer in the fridge. She had never drunk alcohol before, but the thought of having the house to themselves tonight made her especially curious about what beer tasted like.

Of course, the main reason was that she had recently watched a movie where the heroine—a brilliant hacker—drank a beer in the final scene while surrounded by flames, gave her pursuers a cold smirk, destroyed the data, and leapt into the inferno without a hint of regret.

It was a tragic but badass ending, and it made Aimi want to crack open a beer just to imitate the heroine's movements and expression.

Of course Kotomi could tell that Aimi was trying to imitate the heroine from that hacker movie—they had watched it together, after all.

"Nope. You're still way too young to be drinking," Kotomi said, leaving no room for negotiation.

Although in her second life as Ailun, Kotomi had often drunk beer alone—sometimes even drinking herself into a stupor—things were different now. She had been reincarnated back into Parallel World B, continuing her life as Kotomi, and naturally had to keep up the image of a well-behaved girl who didn't drink. In reality, she could outdrink most people.

"But…"

"If Mom finds out you drank, just imagine how badly she'll scold you," Kotomi warned, pulling out the ultimate deterrent.

Aimi thought about it and involuntarily shivered. Mom in rage mode was the scariest thing ever! Still, Aimi could be recklessly bold sometimes and was clearly tempted to sneak a taste.

Kotomi let out a deliberately helpless sigh and said:

"If you really want to know what alcohol tastes like? Fine. Go ahead and drink one. I won't snitch to Mom or Dad—as long as you can manage to make sure they don't notice a can missing from the fridge."

"Ugh…"

Aimi was stuck. The simplest way to cover it up would be to go to the convenience store and replace the can.

But Japan's alcohol and tobacco regulations were strict. Whether it was cigarettes or beer, you needed to show a driver's license to prove you were of legal age.

Not only was Aimi underage—she didn't even have a license. Buying a beer from the store? Out of the question.

"Oh, and by the way—I don't like sleeping next to someone who's been drinking. So if you really insist on having that beer, don't expect to sleep with me tonight," Kotomi added with a smile.

To Aimi, that was a devastating blow!

Her urge to taste beer vanished instantly. She shook her head quickly. "I don't want to drink at all! Onee-chan, let me help you cook~ Let's eat early, bathe early, and then go to bed early…"

"Shoo, go back to the living room and sit tight. Walking barefoot on the floor—don't you feel cold?" Kotomi scolded with a smile as she rubbed Aimi's head. She should have reminded the girl to put on her slippers earlier.

Of course, it was all out of love. She just wanted her sister to relax and enjoy a hot meal.

She had originally planned to cook white rice, but Kotomi found leftover rice from last night in the fridge.

"Aimi, do you want fried rice or plain rice?"

"Did you see the leftover rice in the fridge, Onee-chan? Then I want egg fried rice! Your egg fried rice is the best in the world! I'll love you forever—for your egg fried rice!"

"Did you just use that weird dramatic pausing again?"

Kotomi chuckled in exasperation. She had to admit—her little sister really was adorable from childhood to now.

Since it would be fried rice, Kotomi pulled out the leftover rice along with a piece of beef and an onion from the fridge. She planned to make beef and egg fried rice.

Chopping, heating oil, and cooking—

Kotomi moved methodically around the kitchen. Right now, she looked like a high school girl who had already married and become a virtuous wife.

No wonder Shizuka Hiratsuka, upon seeing Kotomi cook, would instantly imagine a future where she was married to Kotomi—coming home from work each day to find Kotomi still in her school uniform, apron tied around her waist, making dinner in the kitchen.

If Kotomi let her hair grow just a bit longer and tied it into a low ponytail while cooking, it would sway with her movement, and her back would look so irresistibly huggable that you'd want to wrap your arms around her and breathe in the scent of her pale hair as she murmured:

"You're so annoying—I'm still cooking. Go wash your hands."

Once the fried chicken was reheated and plated—with ketchup and salad dressing on the side—the last dish was finally done.

As Kotomi set out the bowls and chopsticks, she called out:

"Aimi, turn off the TV and wash your hands—it's time to eat."

"Coming!"

Aimi bounced off the couch and was about to dash over when Kotomi quickly reminded her: "Put your slippers on first!"

If she didn't, the girl would've run over barefoot again. Even if the floors were clean, it was already autumn heading into winter—wasn't she cold?

"Okay~"

Aimi obediently slipped on her slippers, washed her hands in the bathroom, and ran eagerly into the kitchen, plopping down on a chair by the dining table.

The scent of hot food lingered at the tip of her nose. In her ears was the sound of her sister tidying up the stove and washing her hands at the sink. And in front of her—her Onee-chan, wearing an apron, beads of sweat forming on her pretty face, cooking just for her.

Aimi didn't have grand dreams. What she wanted most was this simple happiness—her sister by her side, living together every day.

She picked up her chopsticks and took a bite of the wasabi octopus.

Almost immediately, her little face scrunched up—it was obvious she had been hit hard by the wasabi. Despite not being great with spicy food, she often liked to act tough.

In that sense, she was a lot like Kotomi.

"Too spicy, huh? Drink some water to ease it," Kotomi said with a smile as she poured a glass of plain water and set it beside her.

"Ugh—it's way too spicy. No wonder you never eat this side dish, Onee-chan," Aimi gulped down the water to soothe the burning sensation in her mouth.

"Why does that sound a little weird coming from you?" Kotomi frowned slightly, feeling something was off but choosing to ignore it. "Do you have any homework?"

"I did, but I already finished it," Aimi said proudly with a little hum.

"Then go to bed early tonight. What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?"

"I want to eat… the breakfast made by Onee-chan," Aimi said with a mischievous grin.

"Can you please stop with that weird dramatic pausing?"

"Nope," Aimi replied, deliberately playing stubborn.

"...Then go hungry tomorrow morning."

"Don't be like that, Onee-chan! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. If I skip breakfast, I'll be too weak to study at school. If I can't focus on my studies, I won't improve my grades. And if my grades don't improve, I might not even pass the high school entrance exams. Would you really want me to flunk out and have no high school to attend? In that case, you'll have to support me for life!"

It was clear Aimi was jokingly running circles around her. If she wanted to go down this rabbit hole, Kotomi could easily go back and forth with her until morning.

Pretending to think seriously, Kotomi replied, "Supporting you for life… I wouldn't say no to that."

"R-really?" Aimi's eyes lit up with anticipation, already daydreaming about what it would be like to be taken care of by her Onee-chan forever.

Kotomi didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She was the one who wanted to be taken care of by Aimi! She reached out and lightly tapped Aimi's forehead.

"Stop daydreaming. Weren't you the one who once swore, 'Onee-chan, I'll support you for life!'? Now you're flipping the script? Haha… hurry up and eat. I made this mapo tofu especially for you. Isn't it your favorite?"

"What I said back then still counts… You're the one who keeps avoiding giving me an answer… You said you'd tell me, but you never have… So sneaky," Aimi mumbled into her rice bowl.

"What was that?" Kotomi asked, not quite catching her muttered words.

"N-nothing!" Aimi responded quickly, face flushed red.

"Don't talk with your mouth full—you'll choke."

"Got it…"

After dinner, Aimi wanted to help wash the dishes, but Kotomi shooed her off to take a bath.

"It's just the two of us, so there aren't that many dishes. Including the pots and plates, it's no big deal. Leave it to your Onee-chan. Go take a bath—you've got school tomorrow."

"Ugh… third-year middle school is so exhausting. Onee-chan, I don't want to go to school anymore."

"Who does? I don't want to go either. Even the best students rarely want to study—they just want to do well on the college entrance exam so they can get into a good university and have a better educational background than others."

"Is a degree really that important?"

These days, Aimi spent all her time reviewing schoolwork. The teachers constantly emphasized the same thing: students needed to get into a good high school, and from there, a prestigious university would be within reach.

Kotomi thought for a moment. When she was in high school during her second life, she'd wondered the same thing. But after seeing how companies recruited at universities, she came to understand what a degree really meant.

"Honestly, most of the subjects taught in college aren't all that useful—unless you're going into a field that requires very specific technical knowledge. In most cases, college won't actually teach you that much. They just want you to study enough not to fail."

"Oh, right. Let me give you a heads-up—once you're in college, even if you slack off for half the semester, you'd better buckle down and study seriously the week before finals. Whatever you do, don't fail your classes. Failing is a huge hassle."

"Back to the point—if you really want to learn something meaningful, you'll have to go out and experience the real world. College is just about keeping your grades good enough to graduate. The diploma is the most important thing."

"Aimi, maybe you don't fully understand now, but when you're about to graduate and you're writing your résumé for job applications, you'll get it. Just take a good look at the companies that recruit from average universities versus those that go to prestigious ones. Compare their salaries and benefits—you'll see the difference is night and day. That's the kind of gap a degree creates."

"If you can get into a better high school, go for it. Then study hard, and aim for the best university within your ability."

"The whole world keeps trying to sell a beautiful lie—that education doesn't matter. Don't be fooled by that lie."

Kotomi felt like this was the first time she had ever spoken to Aimi this seriously.

Truthfully, she had wanted to say these things to Aimi for a long time. Lately, Aimi had been considering applying to Sobu High instead of aiming for the much more prestigious Royal Sakuraka Girls' Academy. It was obvious which school was better.

Kotomi wasn't naive—she knew exactly why Aimi wanted to attend Sobu High instead of the better school.

It was simple, and Kotomi had known it for a while now—Aimi liked her. She wanted to stay close. She was afraid that if she went to high school in Tokyo and they were apart, someone else might take Kotomi away.

Kotomi smiled bitterly at the thought.

Ever since that night, Aimi had repeatedly asked her what her answer was.

The reason Kotomi hadn't said anything yet wasn't because she was embarrassed. She was just afraid that saying it now—when Aimi was so close to her high school entrance exams—might distract her.

If it had only been about the exams, then Kotomi had also been uncertain, a little hesitant.

But now, that hesitation was long gone. She couldn't wait to speak those four little words aloud—to give Aimi the answer she so desperately wanted.

Aimi wanted to hear it. And Kotomi couldn't hold it in any longer.

Still, with exams so close, Kotomi held back—for Aimi's sake.

Kotomi chuckled softly. "Go take your bath. I'm still not done with the dishes. And don't forget to dry your hair afterward."

"Mm… okay," Aimi nodded, her little expression showing that she had taken Kotomi's words to heart.

After Aimi left the kitchen and headed for the bath, Kotomi quickly finished tidying up.

She washed her hands, picked up her phone from the dining table, and opened the calendar app.

"October is almost over. Aimi's exam date is confirmed too—February next year. Come to think of it, my cohort was the only one that had entrance exams in summer… February, huh…"

No matter how many times she asked herself in her heart, Kotomi's answer to Aimi had never changed.

—I like you.

Aimi, I like you.

How much?

The first time I learned that I was adopted, and that we weren't related by blood, my first reaction was relief—because it meant I could love you without hesitation.

I like you. I really like you. Even when you sneak into my bed at night and do those things to me—I never got angry. I just pretended to be asleep and enjoyed it…

Kotomi placed her soft, fair hand over her eyes. A smile curled at her lips—so beautiful that it stirred a deep desire to possess and protect in anyone who saw her.

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