I still remember the exact smell of the hospital corridor the day they told us our parents were gone.
Rain mixed with antiseptic. Cold metal chairs. Nao's small hand gripping mine so tight her nails left little crescent moons in my palm. She was only a year older than me—barely seventeen—but in that moment she became everything. Mother. Father. Home. The only person left in my entire world.
We weren't blood. Dad had remarried when I was still in middle school, bringing Nao and her mom into our house like some awkward puzzle pieces that somehow clicked. Then the car accident happened six months later. Nao's mom—my stepmom—died with my real parents. Just like that, the four of us became two.
And Nao… she never once complained.
She dropped out of the fancy private high school she'd been accepted into, took night classes, worked two part-time jobs, and still managed to cook my favorite curry every single Friday. She raised me with one female hand while the rest of the world looked the other way. When I had nightmares about the accident, she crawled into my bed and held me until I stopped shaking. When I got suspended for fighting bullies who called her "the orphan girl," she bandaged my knuckles and whispered, "You're my hero, Haruto."
I fell in love with her somewhere between the bandaged knuckles and the late-night curry.
But here's the ugly truth I've never told anyone—not even myself until recently:
It wasn't the clean, pure kind of love you read about in those sweet romance novels.
It was desperate. Possessive. Born from the bone-deep terror that if I lost her, I'd have absolutely nothing left. No family. No safety net. Just an empty apartment and the echo of my own breathing.
So I clung. I watched. I made sure no one else ever got too close.
Until Yuzuru.
---
"Yo, Haru! Your sister's home?"
Yuzuru's voice echoed from the genkan as he kicked off his sneakers like he owned the place. He'd been doing that more and more lately—showing up unannounced after school, bringing snacks, cracking dumb jokes that made Nao laugh way too hard.
I hated how natural it looked.
I was in the kitchen pretending to study when they both walked in. Nao still in her waitress uniform—black skirt hugging her hips, white blouse unbuttoned just enough to show the delicate line of her collarbone. Her long black hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, a few strands sticking to her neck from the summer heat. She looked exhausted but happy.
And Yuzuru… that bastard was standing way too close, one hand casually resting on the back of her chair as she sat down.
"Rough shift?" he asked, voice soft in a way I'd never heard him use with anyone else.
Nao smiled—small, tired, genuine. "The usual. Some salaryman tried to grab my ass again. I poured ice water in his lap."
Yuzuru threw his head back and laughed, loud and bright. "That's my girl."
My pencil snapped in half.
My girl.
The words burned like acid in my stomach. I forced a smile, but it felt like my face was cracking.
"Yo, Haruto," Yuzuru finally noticed me. "Still buried in textbooks? You're gonna go blind, man."
Nao glanced at me, and for a second her eyes softened the way they always did when she looked at her "little brother." That look used to make my chest feel warm. Now it just made me feel small.
"I'm fine," I muttered, standing up too fast. "Gonna grab a shower."
I didn't miss the way Yuzuru's eyes followed Nao as she stood to get water from the fridge. The way his gaze lingered on the curve of her waist. The way he leaned in just a little when she passed him, breathing in like he was savoring something that wasn't his to savor.
I locked myself in the bathroom and turned the shower on cold.
---
Later that night, after Yuzuru finally left and Nao went to bed, I lay in my room staring at the ceiling.
The apartment was too quiet. The kind of quiet that used to comfort me because it meant Nao was close—maybe reading in the next room, maybe humming while folding laundry. Now the quiet felt dangerous. Like something was slipping away.
I could still hear her laugh echoing in my head. The one she gave Yuzuru. Not the polite one she gave customers. The real one. Soft and warm and… free.
My hand slipped under the blanket before I could stop myself.
I was already hard. Achingly hard. The kind of hard that came from days of bottled-up jealousy and fear.
I wrapped my fingers around myself and squeezed, biting my lip so I wouldn't make a sound.
In my mind it was Nao's hand. Small and gentle, the same hand that used to check my temperature when I was sick. The same hand that had raised me when the world tried to break us.
But tonight the fantasy twisted darker.
I imagined her on her knees in that waitress uniform, skirt hiked up, blouse open, those soft tits spilling out as she looked up at me with those big, innocent eyes.
"Haruto… you're so big," she'd whisper, voice trembling. "Is this really okay? I raised you…"
I stroked faster, thumb smearing the bead of precum over the head.
In my head I grabbed her ponytail and pushed her mouth down until her lips stretched around me. I imagined the wet, filthy sounds—gluck, gluck, gluck—as I fucked her throat. Tears in her eyes. Spit dripping down her chin. The way she'd choke and moan like she couldn't get enough of her little brother's cock.
"Fuck… Nao-nee…" I hissed under my breath.
My hips bucked up into my fist. The bed creaked softly.
I pictured bending her over the kitchen counter where she'd made me breakfast for years. Skirt flipped up, panties ripped to the side, her perfect ass rippling every time I slammed into her from behind.
"You're mine," I'd growl in her ear. "Only mine. Say it."
"I'm yours, Haruto… only yours… ah—!"
I came so hard my vision whited out. Thick ropes of cum splattered across my stomach and chest, hot and sticky. My whole body shook with it—anger, lust, fear, love, all of it tangled together so tight I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
I lay there panting, staring at the ceiling as the high faded.
Was this love?
Or was I just so fucking terrified of being alone again that I'd rather trap her here forever than let her be happy with someone else?
The question made my stomach twist.
I cleaned myself up with tissues, tossed them in the trash, and pulled my boxers back on. The apartment was still quiet.
Too quiet.
I checked the clock. 11:47 p.m.
Nao usually got home from her night shift by 10:30 at the latest.
She wasn't home yet.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Yuzuru.
**Yuzuru:** Bro, your sis is the coolest. We grabbed late-night ramen after her shift. She said she needed to vent. Don't wait up lol
I stared at the screen until the letters blurred.
Then I heard the front door click open—soft, careful, like she was trying not to wake me.
Nao was finally home.
And for the first time in my life, the sound of her coming back didn't bring me peace.
It brought something cold and sharp and terrifying.
What if… she's already slipping away from me?
What if I'm about to lose the only person who's ever truly been mine?
I closed my eyes and whispered into the dark.
"I won't let that happen, Nao-nee."
Not to Yuzuru.
Not to anyone.