The next morning Nao acted like nothing had changed.
She was already in the kitchen when I dragged myself out of bed, humming softly while flipping tamagoyaki in the pan. Sunlight caught in her hair, turning the black strands almost golden at the edges. She wore one of my old T-shirts over her shorts—way too big on her small frame—and the hem rode up every time she reached for something on the high shelf.
I stood in the doorway watching her, chest tight.
She looked… lighter. Happier. Like the late night with Yuzuru had poured something warm into her that I'd never been able to give.
"Morning, Haruto," she said without turning around. That soft, knowing smile curved her lips—the one she always saved just for me. "Sleep okay? You look like you fought a war in your dreams."
I forced a laugh. "Yeah. Bad dreams."
I didn't tell her the war was still happening inside my head.
She slid the plate across the table and ruffled my hair like she'd done since I was twelve. Her fingers lingered a second longer than usual, gentle, almost… pitying?
No. I was imagining things.
"You've been working too hard lately," she murmured. "If you need to talk… I'm right here. Always."
That "always" used to be my lifeline. Now it sounded like a goodbye wrapped in sugar.
---
Yuzuru started coming over every single day after that.
Monday: He showed up with strawberry Pocky—Nao's favorite—and they sat on the couch watching some dumb rom-com until midnight. I pretended to study in my room but kept the door cracked so I could hear every laugh, every "Yuzuru, you're ridiculous!" from her.
Tuesday: He helped her with the dishes. I walked in to find him standing behind her at the sink, arms brushing, whispering something that made her ears turn pink.
Wednesday: He stayed for dinner. Again. When Nao laughed at one of his stupid jokes and accidentally brushed her foot against his under the table, I nearly snapped my chopsticks in half.
By Friday I was a live wire.
That night she came home even later—1:17 a.m. I was waiting in the living room, lights off, phone in my lap. The second the door clicked I stood up.
"Nao-nee."
She jumped, hand flying to her chest. "Haruto! You scared me. Why are you still up?"
"Where were you?" My voice came out rougher than I meant.
She tilted her head, that same soft smile appearing like she already knew exactly what I was feeling. Like she'd been waiting for this conversation.
"Ramen with Yuzuru again. He had a rough day at practice. Needed someone to listen." She stepped closer, reached up, and cupped my cheek the way she used to when I was a scared kid. "You're not… jealous, are you?"
The word hit like a slap.
Jealous.
Of course I was jealous. I was drowning in it. But the worst part? Underneath the jealousy was pure terror—the same terror that had made me fall for her in the first place. If she left, I'd be alone again. Empty apartment. Empty life.
I swallowed hard. "He's my best friend. You're my sister."
Her eyes flickered with something I couldn't read. Something almost… sad. Almost like she knew the word "sister" was a lie I told myself every night.
"I know," she whispered. "I know exactly what I am to you, Haruto."
Then she kissed my forehead—soft, lingering—and went to shower like the conversation was over.
I stood there in the dark, fists clenched, heart hammering so loud I was sure she could hear it through the walls.
That was the moment I decided.
If Yuzuru wanted to play this game… I'd play it better.
---
I knew about Reina.
Yuzuru's step-mom. Thirty-three, widowed young, stupidly beautiful. Long chestnut hair, curves that made every guy at school stare, and a smile that could melt steel. She'd married Yuzuru's dad when Yuzuru was ten, then lost him to cancer three years ago. Now she ran a small flower shop near the station and lived alone with Yuzuru in that big empty house.
Yuzuru always joked she was "too hot to be anyone's mom." I'd laughed along back then.
Now I was going to use it.
---
Saturday afternoon I "accidentally" ran into her.
I knew Yuzuru had soccer practice until six. I walked into her flower shop like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Haruto?" Reina looked up from arranging lilies, eyes widening in pleasant surprise. She wore a simple white sundress that hugged her full breasts and flared at her hips. The thin straps left her shoulders bare, smooth skin glowing under the shop lights. "What brings you here? Yuzuru's not home yet."
"I know," I said, rubbing the back of my neck like I was nervous. "Actually… I wanted to talk to you. About him. He's been acting weird lately."
It was the perfect lie.
Reina's expression softened instantly. She set the flowers down and came around the counter. "Come sit. I'll make us tea. You look like you need it."
We talked for two hours.
She listened like no one else ever had—really listened. When I told her how lonely the apartment felt sometimes, how scared I was of losing the only family I had left, her hand found mine across the table and squeezed.
"You're not alone, Haruto," she said quietly. "Not anymore. Not if you don't want to be."
Her thumb stroked the back of my hand once. Twice.
Something electric shot up my arm.
When I finally left, she hugged me goodbye—longer than necessary. Her body was soft, warm, smelling like jasmine and something sweeter. My cock twitched against her stomach before I could stop it. She didn't pull away.
---
I got home burning.
Nao wasn't back yet. Again.
I went straight to my room, locked the door, and yanked my pants down so fast the button flew off.
My dick was already rock-hard, angry-red, leaking.
I wrapped my fist around it and started stroking with vicious, punishing strokes.
But this time it wasn't Nao in my head.
It was Reina.
I pictured her on her knees in that sundress, straps slipped off her shoulders, fat tits spilling out—big, heavy, nipples already stiff. Those soft lips parting as she looked up at me with those gentle eyes.
"You're so big, Haruto…" she'd whisper, voice husky. "Bigger than Yuzuru's dad ever was. You want to fuck your best friend's step-mom? Want to ruin me right here in his house?"
I groaned, stroking faster. Precum dripped over my knuckles.
In my fantasy I grabbed her hair and shoved my cock straight down her throat. The wet gluck-gluck-gluck sounds filled my room as I fucked her face like I hated her. Spit ran down her chin onto her tits. Her mascara smeared. She moaned around my shaft like she loved being used.
"Gonna cum down your throat," I growled in my head. "Gonna mark you so Yuzuru smells me on you for days."
I imagined bending her over the flower shop counter next—dress hiked up, no panties, her fat ass rippling as I slammed into her soaked pussy from behind.
"Tell me you're mine now," I'd snarl, spanking her hard. "Tell me you're choosing me over him."
"I'm yours—ahh!—I'm yours, Haruto! Fuck me harder than he ever could!"
I came so violently my knees buckled. Thick, ropey spurts shot across my desk, splattering my laptop, the floor, even the wall. I kept stroking through it, milking every last drop while my whole body shook.
When the orgasm finally faded, I slumped against the door, panting, staring at the mess I'd made.
For the first time in weeks the fear in my chest felt… quieter.
Replaced by something darker.
Something hungry.
I grabbed my phone with shaky hands and opened Yuzuru's chat.
My thumbs flew across the screen.
**Haruto:** Game on, asshole.
I hit send.
Then I smiled for the first time all week.
If he wanted my sister…
I was going to take his step-mom.
And I was going to make her scream my name so loud the whole neighborhood would know exactly who she belonged to now.