The term "loner" refers to someone introverted but not necessarily lonely.
They are capable of socializing and even have good communication skills, often coming across as open-minded and approachable.
However, despite their outward appearance, they prefer solitude and don't feel the need for deep friendships.
I identify with this type of person. I don't have many friends, and the ones I do have are not particularly close.
I'm focused on my own goals and worldview, and I don't rely on social connections for fulfillment. Even if I lost all my friends, it wouldn't have much of an impact on me.
"But occasionally, I did want to be close to someone."
Heavy, deliberate footsteps reverberated through the empty street, the sound of each step echoing in the stillness of the late afternoon.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long, golden shadows across the pavement. I approached the familiar silhouette of my house in the distance, moving slowly and with fatigue in every step.
It was a modern, two-story structure, its sleek lines and large windows gleaming against the soft hues of the setting sun. The house, painted a crisp ivory white, stood in stark contrast to the surroundings.
My sense of loneliness within the neighborhood seemed to be heightened by its unspoiled, undisturbed quiet.
Though it was beautiful, I often thought it felt too large for just one person. The space, vast and open, seemed to stretch endlessly.
Sometimes, I wished it were smaller, more intimate—just enough to make it feel cozier. But on other days, I appreciated the freedom that came with the extra room.
After all, a big house had its benefits, even if it sometimes felt more than I needed.
As I walked closer to the house, the familiar weight of the key in my pocket became a reassuring presence. My fingers brushed against it, already anticipating the action of unlocking the door.
But just as I was about to reach for the doorknob, something caught my eye—a figure standing quietly next to the entrance.
My heart skipped a beat as I noticed the graceful silhouette of a young woman, her features soft and elegant, bathed in the glow of the fading sunlight.
She was a striking figure, a vision of beauty that seemed almost surreal, standing there with an air of calm mystery, her gaze fixed ahead as if she had been waiting for me.
….So…beautiful.
Before me stood an extraordinarily beautiful young woman, her presence almost ethereal.
Her hair, a soft shade of light blue, shimmered like the first snow of the season, cascading down in gentle waves that seemed to catch the light of the day.
It was a delicate hue, as if crafted by the winter sky itself. Her eyes, a breathtaking azure blue, sparkled with an almost otherworldly clarity, as though they held the boundless depth of the ocean itself.
They were clear and vivid, reflecting the vast, serene sky above with a quiet brilliance that made them seem both distant and intimate, like a secret only nature could hold.
Her face was the very definition of delicacy and grace. Each feature was soft yet defined—her high cheekbones, a small, perfectly shaped nose, and full, rosy lips that seemed to naturally curve into a shy, almost hesitant smile.
Her expression was one of gentle timidity, as if she were unsure of her surroundings but, at the same time, radiating a captivating warmth. It was a face full of delicate allure and quiet mystery that could melt hearts at a glance.
She is totally my type.
"Excuse me... may I ask, is this Masanori Tsugimoto's house?" She asked, her voice soft and tentative, with a hint of shyness that made her words seem even more delicate.
I blinked in surprise, my mind racing as I took in the unexpected sight of her.
She was unfamiliar to me; I had never met her before, and I could not think of a reason why she would be standing there.
And then it clicked—the remarriage. The pieces began to fall into place, and everything I had been considering started to make sense.
I looked at her and asked, "Did you know my father?" Even though I had a strong suspicion, I needed to hear it from her. It was important to confirm my theory to get a clear answer.
"That's the right house." She smiled softly and whispered to herself, not even realizing that I could hear.
So cute! But I still have to be careful.
She then looked at my face and tried to say something in response. But that moment was ruined by my phone again.
It's Dad again. Maybe this is about her sudden appearance.
"Uh, pardon me, I have a phone call." I awkwardly smiled and turned around, ready to make my leave. But before I could move away, she said:
"It's… uh… probably about me," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. Her tone is soft, laced with uncertainty, and it's clear that whatever she's referring to makes her feel vulnerable and unsure.
"...Okay then." I turned around and saw her embarrassed face.
A deep blush colors her cheeks as she shifts her gaze to the pavement below, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her sleeve.
It awakened something inside me. A primal emotion so hard to explain has been unlocked.
I wanted to see her face and want to talk to her more, but I had to answer the phone first.
"Yo Shinji, are you home yet?" Dad talked in a casual voice and asked me.
"Yes, and there was a girl with blue hair here." I answered with an annoyed tone.
"Oh, so you met her. That Yukino, your new stepsister."
"..."
When I heard that she was my stepsister, a wave of surprise washed over me.
There was a subtle ache in my chest, a feeling of disappointment that I hadn't expected, but it wasn't overwhelming. It was more of a quiet realization, something I had to process.
Even though I kind of guessed it right, I still felt disappointed.
"Okay, I know the situation now; how about we go inside the house to talk?" Held back my disappointment, I invited her into the house with a somewhat emotionless voice.
"Ah… yes," the girl with striking blue hair murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
She nodded shyly, her cheeks flushing with a deep shade of pink as she avoided making direct eye contact.
It was clear she felt out of place.
Understandable but a bit annoying if this continues for too long.
As I opened the door and went inside first, she followed with deliberate shyness.
She slowly bent down, removing her shoe with delicate precision. After resting her fingers on the heel for a moment, she carefully put it on the shelf.
Her movements were slow, deliberate, and almost cautious, as if she were testing the waters of a new environment.
I placed my hand on the switch near the door and pressed it, turning on the lights in the hallway and living room.
The living room appeared before me, with a sleek glass table in the center, a white sofa beside it, and a black striped carpet underfoot.
The space was neat, clean, and open, but it felt lifeless, almost cold—quiet and monochrome. There was a sense of emptiness, with no personal touches or warmth.
Still, I liked the minimalism. It made the space easy to clean and comfortable, offering a calm, uncluttered environment.
"Do you want something to drink?" I asked her as she moved to the white sofa and sat down.
What do you do first when you have a visitor?
Actually, I don't know anymore; no one ever comes to visit. However, I think offering water is a pretty good way to show goodwill.
"...Any is fine." She spoke softly, responding to my goodwill with a gentle voice.
Ah, a typical girlish answer. Whenever I asked, they would always say, "Anything is okay." Sometimes I just want them to tell me their true intentions.
So I do just that and move to the fridge and find something good to drink.
But when I open the door, I smile at first, but then my expression changes. Inside, there's nothing but a long row of beer bottles, and there is even a single bottle of wine. It's not exactly what I had in mind.
Well, this case is difficult.
I like to drink beer. I drink it whenever my father and I are at home together, on hot days, and even more when I am under stress. Normally there's no problem, but today having a girl at home is a different matter.
Ah, so I don't have any other choice then. Silently, I sighed and removed a tray of ice from the frozen section.
"Sorry, but I don't have anything today, except ice." I then poured out two cups of water, one for me and one for her.
She stared at the cup in front of her, her eyes fixed on it as a faint, awkward smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"Yes, it's okay," she said, though her voice lacked the certainty that matched her words.
She didn't take a sip. Instead, her gaze remained glued to the drink, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the cup as if debating whether or not to pick it up.
After a long moment of hesitation, she shifted her focus from the drink to me. Her eyes flickered over my face, her expression momentarily unreadable.
It was subtle, but I caught the slight narrowing of her brows and the almost imperceptible tightening of her gaze as she observed me. It was as if she was assessing something, unsure but curious, before quickly veiling it behind her usual composure.
Hmm, did my face have anything on it?
As I watched her in that moment, I found myself silent, unsure of how to break the stillness.
I simply stood there, observing her without speaking, as if the weight of the moment demanded more than words. She, too, remained quiet, her gaze fixed on mine, and we locked eyes for what felt like an eternity.
I wanted to be respectful, to wait for her to speak first, to offer me something—an invitation to break the silence, or perhaps a reason to fill the air with conversation.
But as I waited, I realized that she was in the same state as I was. She, too, was waiting, almost as though we were both trapped in a moment where neither one of us knew exactly how to proceed. Neither of us wanted to break the calm too soon, and so we both remained, frozen in time, caught in this quiet exchange.
Uh, this is getting awkward.
Well, just act naturally and it'll be fine, right?
"Nice to meet you; I'm Shinji Tsugimoto, and you?"
"...Ah..um…I'm Yuki Hoshizora…nice to meet you." She spoke softly in her throat out of timidity. At that time, she looked like a puppy that had just entered a new home.
Quite cute, is she not? Such a shame that she is my stepsister.