"Sorry, Yuki, I had work at the council," came Shinji's calm, soft-spoken voice as he approached.
The icy shield I had created melted away instantly under his presence, leaving me bare to the rain for only a moment before he stepped in to shield me.
That's Shinji.
The person I love most.
The one who always knows when I need him, the one who makes me feel safe even when everything else feels uncertain... my stepbrother.
I don't care about this forced sibling relationship. It's meaningless to me. But sadly, it's everything to him.
To Shinji, I'm only a sister. A family obligation. Not a woman.
The love I feel for him is something he cannot, or perhaps refuses to, see.
"Come with me," he said gently, placing his rough yet reassuring hand on my shoulder. He pulled out an umbrella and opened it, the soft patter of raindrops on its surface filling the air.
Normally, he'd be rushing back to his part-time job being this free is unusual.
Is he really free today?
I brought a hand to my lips, thinking it over. Even though we live under the same roof, share the same meals, and cross paths every day, there's so much about Shinji I don't know.
There's so much I want to know.
The thought of burdening him, of annoying him, was terrifying. What if I pushed too far and he began to hate me?
The very idea was unbearable.
So I swallowed my curiosity, crushed the thoughts and questions bubbling inside me, and decided not to trouble him further.
If holding this umbrella for me would make him late for anything, I wouldn't allow it.
"Aren't you going to do more work today?" I asked, tilting my head as I looked up at him.
Shinji responded with a slight shake of his head, his golden eyes meeting mine. There was something in his gaze—something warm and steady—that dispelled all my doubts in an instant.
"No," he said softly, "let's go home."
And then, with one fluid motion, his wide, firm arm wrapped around me, pulling me close to him.
Thump.
My heart pounded immediately, loud and rhythmic, like a drum echoing in my chest.
Heat rushed to my face, and I could feel it turning crimson—so red it must've matched the color of a ripe tomato.
But I didn't hate this feeling.
Not at all.
On the contrary, I wanted to cling to him forever, to stay like this, safe and warm by his side. I wished this moment could stretch into eternity, the world beyond the rain forgotten.
Shinji...
If only we weren't stepsiblings.
That thought, bittersweet and impossible, lingered in my mind as we walked together through the heavy rain.
The warmth of his arm around me and the steady strength of his presence made my heart swell with happiness. It is just like my dream has been realized.
I let myself savor it, even if it was fleeting.
Even if it was something I believed I could never truly have.
No.
I will have it.
I want to be with him, no matter what.
But that's for later.
Right now, I want to enjoy this moment to the fullest, without letting those thoughts cloud my heart.
Walking under the rain with someone you love—it's truly an irreplaceable experience. The rhythmic patter of raindrops, the cool breeze brushing against my skin, and the warmth of Shinji beside me made everything feel perfect, if only for a little while.
I kept walking, step by step, lost in the moment.
Before I realized it, I was standing in front of the house.
Already?
Did it end so soon?
Impossible.
A wave of disappointment washed over me, one so deep and indescribable it left a hollow ache in my chest.
"Yuki, we're home?"
His gentle voice pulled me back to reality. Seeing my dazed expression, Shinji stepped closer, placing a warm hand on my forehead to check for a fever.
Always so thoughtful.
I couldn't help but feel spoiled by his care and the way he always looked after me.
"Yes, let's go in," I replied softly.
"Mm."
With a small hum of agreement, I reached into my pocket, pulled out the key, and unlocked the door.
We stepped inside together.
This was our house.
And I loved this place—not just because it was home, but because it was ours.
***
"...So bored."
After dinner with my family, I'd gone through my nightly routine: soaking in the bathtub, clearing my mind, and then tackling my homework.
It didn't take long. Most of the assignments were laughably easy—except for the foreign language class, which gave me some trouble. Even so, I powered through it.
Now, I was sprawled on my messy bed, aimlessly rolling back and forth like a restless child. My blanket lay crumpled beneath me, a casualty of my endless twisting and turning.
I want to see him.
That thought kept circling in my head, refusing to let me rest.
But at this hour...
Shinji was probably still studying, his brow furrowed in focus. I didn't want to disturb him, and I certainly didn't want him to think I was clingy.
And then there's that first time.
Just thinking about it sent a jolt of heat rushing to my face. I buried my head in my hands, wishing I could sink into the mattress and disappear.
Even though I'd claimed to forget it, the memories were still vivid. Too vivid.
The feverish warmth of his touch, the way my emotions spiraled out of control, the unrelenting, overwhelming sensations...
I could never forget it.
But it was a mistake.
An accident.
It's a relief he pretended like nothing happened. If he'd acknowledged it, things between us would've been unbearably awkward.
Still...
If I walked into his room again, I wouldn't be able to face him. The memory alone made my chest tighten with a mix of shame and longing.
"Ugh... I'm so exhausted," I groaned, pressing a pillow against my face. "If only I'd been able to control myself back then, things would've been so much better."
Would they, though?
That fleeting moment had awakened feelings I'd never known before, feelings so powerful and all-consuming that they scared me.
Maybe I didn't want to forget it after all.
I pressed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut, rolling around in frustration on the bed, torn between two opposing desires.
Yuki, which will you follow: your heart, or your will?
On one side, my heart longed to see him, to feel the warmth of his presence. On the other, my mind warned against it, urging me to remember how awkward that first time had been.
The two sides pulled at me, each one relentless in its demands. I tossed and turned, agonizing over what to do, time seeming to stretch on endlessly.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of internal conflict, I sighed in defeat, biting my nail as I made up my mind.
"Alright…" I muttered under my breath.
I would knock on his door. If Shinji could act like nothing had happened, then maybe I could too. It couldn't be that big of a deal to interrupt him, could it?
Taking a deep breath, I braced myself and walked toward his room, my heart pounding in my chest. Every step felt heavier, like my body was betraying my mind.
I lifted my hand and gently knocked three times, soft taps that echoed in the quiet house. There was no immediate answer, and doubt began to creep in.
Maybe I should just leave...
But then, after a brief silence, his voice came from behind the door.
"Yuki, just come in."
"…Yes." I whispered quietly, gently pushing the door open.
Just like before, Shinji was there. He wore a black button-up shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up, paired with black pants.
Even at home, he always looked so neat, so composed. The glow of the computer screen illuminated his face as he worked, completely absorbed in whatever he was doing.
"Am I interrupting you?" I asked softly, nervous that I might be disturbing his concentration.
"…It's fine," he answered without lifting his eyes from the screen. "I'll be done soon."
Something about the way he was so absorbed in his work made my heart ache a little.
Please, notice me.
I couldn't just stand there, so I stepped closer, trying to sneak a glance at what he was doing. But the text on the screen was completely indecipherable to me—nothing but a confusing blur.
I could make out the words on the papers, but none of it made sense to me.
"Patrol activity report?" I muttered, reading the title of one of the neatly arranged stacks on his desk.
Now it clicked—it was probably something related to his duties as a "Dawn Hunter."
"It's just some side work, nothing important," he said dismissively, his tone as if it were nothing to worry about. But if it had to do with the security department, how could it possibly be "nothing"? Only the most elite make it into that line of work.
He must have forgotten the fact that he had saved me once, unaware that I already knew about his role. But when he noticed my gaze lingering on the papers, he let out a soft sigh and decided to explain.
"I'm a Dawn Hunter, like my father," he said, his voice casual, as if it was no big deal.
"But don't worry," he quickly added, trying to reassure me, "I'm still just a novice. I don't take part in the dangerous hunts like he does."
But I knew better. He was lying.
He's an official, one of high rank too.
Dawn Hunter—a title that carries a heavy weight. It's not just any job; it's a profession dedicated to hunting down criminals and monsters linked to magic. A dangerous line of work, to say the least.
Uncle Masanori is a senior officer in this field. While I don't know the exact details of his rank, there's no denying the power he wields. His influence is vast, and his wealth is practically boundless. It makes sense, then, that Shinji would follow this path—after all, the connections, the legacy, the security it could bring. But that doesn't make it any easier to stomach.
I can't help but feel a sense of dread every time I think about it. Magic, unlike conventional weapons, is unpredictable. It's not something you can just point and fire. Almost anyone can wield it, and it comes with consequences.
Take me, for example—I've got my own abilities, a shard of ice I can conjure with a flick of my wrist, enough force behind it to pierce through the steel of a car. The thought of it is chilling, even though I know I would never use it like that. But there are others who are far less cautious.
Those criminals, the ones Shinji is hunting? Who knows what goes on in their minds—what kind of havoc they might wreak with their magic?
And then there are the monsters, twisted creatures born from magical energy.
They're not something you can reason with—they're unpredictable and ruthless, and they don't follow any rules of humanity. They're pure danger, living on instinct, and they don't hesitate to tear apart anything that stands in their way.
I had met them once—those monsters—and I came close to dying because of it. If it hadn't been for him, Shinji, I wouldn't have made it out alive.
I can't deny it—the "side job" he's involved in, the dangerous life of a Dawn Hunter, is something that fills me with fear.
It's the kind of risk that's hard to put into words, and every time I think about it, my heart sinks. The truth is, it scares me more than anything else.
I know he's strong, skilled, and capable—he is my hero after all.
But there's always the chance something could go wrong. I want him to walk away from it all, to leave that world of danger behind, and to live a normal student life.
I want to tell him to stop before it's too late.
But who am I to say anything? What right do I have? I'm not his parent, not his superior, not someone with the authority to tell him what to do.
I'm just someone who cares for him deeply—someone who's scared, and who doesn't want to lose him.
If he hadn't been a Dawn Hunter if he hadn't been there that night... I wouldn't be here now.
And he's been doing this for so long, having survived in this dangerous world far longer than I could ever hope to. He knows the risks better than anyone—better than me, anyway.
So maybe it's best if I just keep quiet. If I keep my worries to myself and stop questioning his decisions.
Yeah, he is my hero after all.
He should be invincible.