I can say this because I've experienced it—a stepsister is nothing more

than a stranger.

Arriving at that truth in my second year of high school was a huge

bummer for me as an adolescent guy, but it was really lucky considering

my family situation. In manga, light novels, and games, the lack of blood

ties between stepsiblings becomes an excuse for romance, and after some

twists and turns, they always end up together. It would have been so

cringey if I'd taken all that seriously and gotten my hopes up. I probably

would've wound up playing the protective older brother like some cliché

protagonist or something.

But reality isn't like that.

So you're probably wondering, how is a real-life stepsister different

from the kind guys fantasize about? Well, let me give you an example. I

get home from my part-time job at the bookstore and see my stepsister

sitting on the couch drinking hot cocoa. This is how our conversation goes:

"Hi, Asamura."

"Hi, Ayase."

That's it.

Get it?

She's not going to say, "Hey there, older brother ," in a sweet, syrupy

tone. She won't say something openly hostile like, "Ugh. You stink. Don't

talk to me, stepbrother," either. You're cool, you're strangers—you

simply exchange plain old matter-of-fact greetings.

She's not going to act cutesy and fawn on you, nor will she hurl abuse

at you. Both of those ideas are equally out of touch with reality.

Of course, there's no heart-fluttering, lovey-dovey stuff, excessive

respect, or codependence between my stepsister and me. We've existed in

this world for sixteen years, and our paths never crossed. You can't tell us

we'll be family starting the next day and expect us to suddenly have special feelings for each other.

I'd have more intense feelings about someone who wound up in the

same class as me two years in a row.

My name is Yuuta Asamura. I'll be turning sixteen this year, and I'm in

my second year of high school.

If you're wondering how I ended up with a new stepsister at my age,

it's because my dad is energetic. I respect him from the bottom of my

heart for deciding to marry again after what he went through.

As far back as I can remember, my parents were always fighting, and I

wasn't surprised when Dad told me they were getting divorced. He

apologized and said it was because he was a worthless man, but I knew it

was because Mom had an affair, and I listened to him with no illusions.

After that, I lived my life without expecting much from the women of

our species. That is, until one afternoon, when Dad made a sudden

announcement. I was pulling out the key for my bicycle lock and sticking a

foot in my sneaker at the door when he said it.

"I've decided to get married."

"Huh?"

"You don't mind, do you? She's a beautiful lady with a big heart."

"I don't know. Adjectives alone don't tell me what type of person she

is."

"Her three sizes from the top are thirty-six, twenty-four, and thirty-

five."

"Numbers aren't any better, you know…and do you really think that's

the first info a son wants about his new mom?"

"Aren't you happy that she has a fantastic figure?"

"Not particularly."

"What…?! Can a teenage boy really be so unmoved by sexual desire? I

always thought you seemed a little cold, but wow…"

"Hey."

I clapped back at my dad, telling him that was a rude way to think of

his own son.

People often get the wrong idea when I say I don't expect much from

women. All I'm saying is that I don't count on receiving any warmth and

kindness from them. I still get excited when I see a naked woman and

horny when I see girls wearing bathing suits during swimming class.

That said, I'm not so undisciplined that I would start lusting over my dad's girlfriend—someone who might become my mother.

"That aside, Dad, I'm amazed to hear that you've met someone at

forty. Does she work at your office?"

"She was working at a bar my boss brought me to. She took care of me

when I got wasted after drinking too much."

"Are you sure she isn't tricking you into marrying her…?"

I didn't necessarily subscribe to cliché ideas like "people working in

bars and clubs are all criminals and con artists," but because of Dad's bad

experience in the past, it was easy to see the negative.

"Of course not. Akiko, at least, isn't like that. Ah-ha-ha-ha!"

Dad roared with laughter. But wasn't that exactly what someone being

tricked would say? I was frankly appalled.

Still, I didn't fight him on it.

"Whatever makes you happy is fine with me," I said. "I'll just live the

same way I've always lived."

That was what I meant by not getting my hopes up. Because I had no

expectations about this new life with a new mom, I wasn't worried about

any potential negatives, either—like if we ended up being unhappy or she

was fooling my dad into marrying her. At the time, I was just thinking I'd

let whatever happened happen.

"I don't think that'll be so easy," Dad replied. "You'll have a younger

sister, after all."

"Huh? A younger sister?"

"That's right. Akiko's daughter. She showed me a picture. The girl was

pretty cute."

So this woman, Akiko, was divorced like Dad. It sounded like they had

both experienced a failed marriage, and I bet having that in common

helped bring them together.

"See? Isn't she cute?"

"Oh…um, yeah."

Dad seemed really excited as he lifted his phone to show me a picture

of a little girl, probably in the first few years of elementary school. A

foreign fantasy novel translated into Japanese and aimed at young children

was spread across her lap. She was staring shyly into the camera.

"Congratulations," he said. "You're now a big brother!"

"Don't try to win me over with a grin and a thumbs-up… Well, she is a

cute kid. I guess I wouldn't mind having her around."

A teenage little sister sounded like a hassle, but if she was an elementary schooler, that was different. For your information, I'm not into

little girls or anything. I thought she was cute, but not like that. Just regular

cute, okay? Anyway, I was relieved that she was almost ten years younger

than me because it meant I wouldn't have to walk on eggshells around her.

"We're getting together around nine tonight," said my dad, "so when

you get off work, drop by Royal Host. You know, the restaurant near the

bookstore."

"Isn't this a little sudden…?"

"Ha-ha. I meant to tell you, and then a whole month went by in a flash.

I guess I kind of let it slip until the day of."

"A whole month?!"

"Ha-ha. Sorry about that."

That's my dad for you. I watched him scratch his temple, smiling

sheepishly, and sighed. He might seem unreliable, but you could tell he

was a good man underneath.

"Okay, I'll be there," I said. "Be grateful I'm not a delinquent who

takes off in the middle of the night."

"I've never been worried about something like that. I trust you."

He really was a good guy, my dad.

A new mom. A new sister. A new family.

Letting those words drift around unsettled in my head, I somehow

managed to finish my shift, though my senior colleague (a real babe) said

she thought I was phoning it in.

As Devora Zack says, it's the height of stupidity to multitask, and

focusing on one thing at a time increases efficiency. I told my colleague

that I believed concentrating on having a successful first meeting with my

grade-school-age stepsister-to-be was more important, and that was why I

was only going through the motions at work. She was not impressed.

I thought she was being unreasonable, since she was the one who told

me about Zack's book in the first place. But when I finished my shift and

headed out, she slapped my back and said, "Go for it, Big Brother!" I

always knew she was a good person deep down.

It was nighttime in Shibuya. I rode my bicycle from the bookstore

where I worked up Dogenzaka Hill for a few minutes and arrived at the

restaurant Dad had specified. It was a busy time of day, and the doorway

was packed with groups of young women. I overheard them complaining

about their boyfriends.