It had been five years, and she still hadn't found her younger brother.
As if swallowed by the earth itself, the police couldn't uncover any traces of him.
The authorities claimed that the only evidence of his presence was inside their apartment. With no further leads to pursue, the investigation reached a dead end and was postponed indefinitely.
Moreover, the police doubted that someone could simply disappear from their own home.
She, on the other hand, though initially panicked and feeling as if her world had collapsed, tried to think positively.
"Yes... He must have run away to some distant place. He can surely live well out there with all the money he earned," she told herself, attempting to calm the anxiety that clawed at her.
"He'll surely come back once he's done sulking," she murmured, clinging to that hope.
But contrary to her expectations, her brother never returned. No matter how many messages she sent to his phone, the signal remained untraceable.
Unable to take any more time off work, she was forced to return to her job, facing piles of tasks while her mind remained in turmoil.
That night, after working late, she walked home under the stillness of the moonlit streets, her heart heavy.
"Where did you go?" she whispered, her voice carried away by the spring breeze.
She stood there for a while, letting the cool air wash over her, before walking back to the towering apartment building.
When she opened the door to her home, the silence greeted her as it always did. For the past five years, no one had been there to welcome her. The house was quiet, cold, and devoid of warmth.
"..."
Without a word, she entered and went about her nightly routine. After washing her face and changing into casual clothes, she prepared to review some reports sent by her contract workers.
But as she approached her room, her steps faltered. Her gaze landed on the door to her younger brother's room, tightly closed.
Perhaps it had become a strange habit. She would often stand in the living room, silently staring at that door without moving.
However, this time, her feet moved on their own. Without thinking, she opened the door for the first time since the police investigation five years ago.
"What a mess, haha," she muttered, taking in the disarray.
The room had remained untouched since the police's search for evidence. The dust had settled thickly, and the air was stale.
"Alright, let's tidy up," she said, rolling up her sleeves.
She started with the basics—removing the bedsheets, disposing of trash, and tidying up his desk. She even wiped the dust off his computer and ensured it was unplugged.
Once done, she looked around with satisfaction. The room now felt clean and peaceful.
"Okay, the rest is putting these novels back into the other room...." She paused, her eyes drifting to the door that led to her brother's private reading space.
Years ago, her brother had insisted on converting the attached bathroom into his personal library. Though reluctant, she eventually agreed. After the renovation, however, she had never entered the space again.
Why? Because the room housed her brother's collection of melodramatic romance novels—books she couldn't stand.
Even during the police investigation, she had hesitated to step foot in there.
But now, five years later, she felt... nothing. No disgust, no aversion—just an empty ache.
"Well, going inside won't kill me," she muttered.
She opened the white door, stepping into a room that was starkly different from her brother's dark bedroom.
"Wow..." she breathed, surprised by how spacious it was. Despite the shelves filled with books, the room had enough space for someone to lie down comfortably while reading.
The area was immaculate as if the police hadn't disturbed it during their search.
"Ah, here it is," she said, spotting an empty bookshelf. She began placing the novels she had carried from the bedroom onto it.
"Alright, that's done."
She was about to leave when her eyes caught something on the carpet.
A single book lay there, its bright red cover standing out against the pale floor. Next to it was an orange cat-shaped pillow—her brother's favorite.
She bent down to pick up the book and noticed a crumpled note sticking out from its pages.
<I need to find a way to get my big sister to read and review my novel!>
The handwriting was unmistakable—it was her brother's.
Her hands trembled as she held the note, tears welling up in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, unwilling to let them fall onto the book.
"Alright. Alright. I'll read and review this disgusting romance story for you," she whispered.
So, please come back home quickly, my stubborn and noisy little brother.
Taking a deep breath, she sat down on the soft carpet, holding the red book carefully.
This time, her brother's novel was a romance with a fantasy twist and an R19+ rating, clearly aimed at mature female readers.
"... Wow, my little brother has grown up to write a genre like this," she muttered, shivering at the thought.
[World For Her]
After reading the title, she opened the first page and began reading, her curiosity piqued despite herself.
***
The hours passed unnoticed as she continued reading, completely absorbed in the story. By the time she looked up, it was already 4 AM.
"Wow, is it this late already?" she exclaimed, realizing she only had two hours left before work.
She had gotten so carried away with the red book that she had lost track of time.
She hurried to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. As she rushed back into her brother's room, she tripped on the slippery floor, spilling the entire glass of water onto the white fur carpet in the reading room.
The sound of breaking glass and her body hitting the floor filled the room.
"No!" she shouted in distress.
Ignoring the pain in her knees, she crawled toward the red-covered book. Fortunately, the water hadn't reached it. She quickly checked the bookshelves and found that nothing else had been affected.
But the large white carpet, now damp, covered nearly the entire floor.
"... I don't have the energy to dry a carpet this size right now. I'll do it after I get back from work," she muttered, too tired to deal with it at the moment.
She cleaned up the broken glass, then lay down on the dry part of the carpet. She picked up the red book again, still holding it carefully.
"Alright, let's continue reading. Where was I?"
"Ah, I was at the part where Cecilia and the Saintess were arguing about...." she mumbled, her focus returning to the book.
But as she continued reading, she failed to notice the strange shimmer on the cover of the red book she was holding.
The carpet beneath her seemed to glow faintly, almost as if it were turning into something magical.
She was too absorbed in the contents of the novel to even notice the transformation around her.
...
As she continued reading, a sudden flash of light dazzled her face, making her look up from the book. It was only then that she realized something strange was happening around her.
"W—What is this?" she gasped, her face paling. "Is this some kind of hallucination from not sleeping for a day?"
In panic, she pinched her cheek, but instead of waking up, she felt the sharp sting of pain.
The room was slowly changing, and she couldn't make sense of it!
Before she could react, the glowing carpet beneath her seemed to pull her in. As she tried to stand, she slipped again, this time losing her vision entirely.
Everything around her, which had been bright and glowing, suddenly turned dark and eerie.
She lost consciousness.
***
When she woke up, she was in complete darkness, unable to see anything. She could feel her limbs, but everything else was void of light and sound.
"What happened to me?" she whispered in confusion.
A voice echoed in the darkness, strange yet familiar.
"Welcome."
She blinked, unsure if she was dreaming. "Is there someone there?"
"This world... I made it just for her."
The words felt oddly familiar as if she had heard them before.
"Isn't that the opening words of my brother's novel [World For Her]?"
"Hehe."
"Did he suddenly laugh?" she asked, her curiosity outweighing her fear.
"Enjoy."
"...what?" she confused, but before she could receive an answer, she lost consciousness again.
A single line of clean, white-ink lettering drifted through the silent, dark air.
[To my sister, who is too busy taking care of me to ever feel love, I hope you can be loved by many people here.]