My older sister is very cute.
When I turned five, my father told me I would start my training to be the inheritor. Before, my sister Anemone was the one who would take over. Being a girl, she could no longer be the one as I would take over the role. Every day, on my way to my studies, I would pass her to her studies. She would always give strange expressions.
My teacher says she's upset from losing the role and may hate me for taking it. Dear sister, it was father who chose this for us. Please don't hate me. I wasn't sure how I could repair our relationship. Mother told me Anemone probably felt inadequate for her role to be taken away. Sister loved sword fighting. She was really good at it.
When I saw her that morning, I was really surprised. She had that cute face with the scowl. Anemone still thought of me as being stupid. I don't mind as I get to see her often. She would teach me things and it let me get closer to her. When she was serious, I couldn't help but admire her.
Her flame colored ponytail swayed with each swing... The elegant way of holding her sword... It was amazing. She seemed like she was dancing, with how fluidly she moves. It made me want to train harder. I could protect her if I was stronger. If I was to protect her, it would mean I need to be stronger than her.
Since the last she tried to teach me, I didn't see her again there. I made an effort to walk by her garden to my training to see her. Every time we passed, she would stop and asked about my training. It really pleased me! Despite her cute scowls and strict lessons, she really does love me!
Oh sister... You showing this side of you would be bad if others knew. They would think you were really adorable. Even now, the way she tilts her head as if she didn't care. Her quick side look gave her away. It takes a lot of effort in trying to keep in my laughter.
That day when she saw father, I saw her come out looking dejected. Her maids were with her and seemed to be consoling her. Anemone stood there before she ran off into the gardens. I ran back to get an umbrella so I can cover her from the rain for her. When I went to look for her, I couldn't find her at all in the garden.
It wasn't until the rain stopped falling and I saw her return, with a cloak over her. She had a strange smile, a beautiful happy smile. I wasn't the one who gave her that feeling. My fists clenched unknowingly in anger. Our parents would not come out this late at night.
Who was the one that comforted my sister?