Serina, a second-year high school student, has a bit of a weird problem. And that problem is her stepbrother, Kenta. At school, Kenta's a popular and cool art teacher everyone looks up to. But at home? That mask comes right off. He's still super kind most of the time... but sometimes, he gives Serina this really mean look and teases her like crazy. Sometimes in a way that's a little naughty.
At first, it was just heart-pounding fun. But it's been getting more and more intense, and now her heart
Milf cute Mother Obsessed with her step son Alot - So Close, Yet So Far: Their Daily Lives
I still remember that summer day vividly.
It was the summer when Serina was twelve.
Her mother remarried, and suddenly she had a new father she didn't know, and a new older brother she didn't know.
"We're going to be a family from now on, so please get along."
Her mother said that with a beaming smile, but deep in Serina's chest, a tight, painful knot formed.
Their new house in Tsukimidai, the one they'd just moved into. It was a brand-new, beautiful detached house, but it felt somehow distant, like it wasn't really her place to be.
"...Yo."
That was all Kenta said before he immediately went up to his room on the second floor.
At the time, Kenta was twenty years old. He was tall, incredibly unfriendly, and his sharp gaze was a little intimidating.
His fluffy black hair always hung over his eyes, and the way he'd brush it aside with an annoyed gesture seemed terribly grown-up.
Even when Serina, with her big, droopy eyes, timidly tried to greet him, his narrow, sharp eyes barely looked her way.
(He probably doesn't care about me at all.)
Thinking that made her feel incredibly lonely.
Her real father wasn't there. Her mother seemed happy with the new man. Kenta was cold.
That night, Serina ran away from home.
* * *
The Tsukimidai residential area is a newly developed neighborhood built on a hillside, home to about eight hundred households.
Every house is similarly pristine, and at night, it's a quiet place where only the occasional streetlight dots the road.
It's a good twelve-minute bus ride from Minase Station, so almost no one walks around at night.
Serina sat on a swing in Tsukimi Park.
The only sound echoing through the dark park was the creak, creak of the swing's chains.
The summer night air was humid and clung to her bare arms.
(I knew it. They're fine without me.)
Pouting with her soft, plump lips, Serina hung her head.
That's when it happened.
Creak.
The swing next to her moved.
When she looked up, Kenta was sitting there.
How long had he been there? She hadn't noticed at all.
But he didn't say anything.
He just sat beside her, gazing at the distant city lights.
Silence enveloped the two of them.
Strangely, the loneliness she'd felt just moments before softened a little.
(Maybe he has a sharp tongue, but he's not really cold-hearted.)
That's what she thought.
There were no words, but that was Kenta's own way of being kind.
* * *
Soon after that, on the night of the fireworks festival held at Minase Beach.
The four of them went as a family, but Serina got a little tired of the crowds.
Kenta, probably also fed up with the number of people, drifted away from the crowd as well.
Before she knew it, Serina was following after him.
Minase Beach was a twenty-minute walk down the hill from Tsukimidai.
The city faced the sea, and outside of summer, it was a quiet, sparsely populated sandy beach.
They sat side-by-side on the tetrapods of the breakwater.
Kenta was silent as usual, but for some reason, he held out the cotton candy in his hand to Serina.
"...Huh?"
When she took it, she thought she saw the corner of Kenta's mouth soften just a tiny bit.
Just then, a huge firework went off.
A boom that resonated deep in her stomach. A giant flower of light bloomed in the sky.
"...Onii-chan."
She realized she'd called him that.
It was the first time.
For a moment, Kenta's eyes went wide as he looked at her.
Then, with a gesture that was a little embarrassed, yet teasing, he lightly tapped Serina on the head.
"Still, your hair's way too long. Does it really go all the way down to your waist?"
That was his reply.
But that was the moment.
The moment something was born inside Serina's heart.
A feeling she couldn't yet name—prickly, but warm.
* * *
Four years have passed since then.
Serina is now sixteen, attending Uminosaki High School.
It's a mid-tier public high school in the area, built on the mid-slope of a hill in Minase City.
From the third floor of the school building, you can see the blue ocean in the distance.
And, ironically—
Kenta had become an art teacher at that very same Uminosaki High School.
"Alright, that's it for today. Make sure you wash your brushes properly and put them back."
Kenta's languid voice echoed through the art room.
Wednesday, third period. Art class for class 2-C.
Kenta was twenty-four. He'd graduated from an art university and was now working at this high school as a part-time lecturer.
He wasn't a regular teacher, so he didn't have a homeroom class.
He only handled twelve classes a week and spent the rest of his time in the art prep room—a somewhat unusual teacher.
"Isn't Minakami-sensei kind of scary?"
"I know, right? His eyes are kinda intimidating."
She could hear the girls whispering amongst themselves.
At school, Kenta almost never smiled.
Only the gesture of brushing aside his longer, messy-short hair looked oddly stylish, and combined with his well-defined features, the female students tended to avoid him, labeling him "cool but scary."
But Serina knew the truth.
At home, he was always lazing around on the sofa, teasing her and laughing with delight—her mean-spirited older brother.
"Alright, I'm handing back the landscape paintings you submitted."
Saying that, Kenta began critiquing each student on the spot.
For the other kids, his comments were brief, like "not bad" or "the colors are too dark"—
"Nanami."
It was Serina's turn.
"...Haaah."
Kenta let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Hey, why is the ocean in your painting pure blue? You just squeezed the paint straight out of the tube, didn't you?"
"Ugh..."
Serina's face turned bright red.
Honestly, art wasn't her strong suit.
But Kenta's class was the only one she liked.
"Come to the art prep room later."
At those words, the eyes of the entire class focused on Serina.
* * *
The art prep room was at the very end of the second-floor hallway.
The eight-tatami-mat room smelled of oil paints mixed with a faint hint of wood.
There was one old sofa, which served as Kenta's designated spot.
Kenta stood right behind Serina, an easel between them.
"You're holding the brush wrong."
Saying that, he reached his hand around from behind—
And his large hand enveloped Serina's.
"Eh."
She could feel Kenta's body heat directly.
His chest was just barely touching her back.
"Relax your hand. Like this."
His voice came from right behind her ear.
Close enough to feel his breath.
(H-he's so close...!)
Her heart pounded exaggeratedly.
Her hand felt like it might tremble.
But—
"I mean, your painting's still seriously crap."
Kenta grinned.
"...Ugh! Honestly!"
In an instant, he was back to his usual teasing mode.
Serina's chest filled with frustration.
Just what was this distance between them?
* * *
Evening, in the living room of their home in Tsukimidai.
Her parents, who both worked, weren't back yet.
In the eighteen-tatami-mat LDK, it was just Serina and Kenta.
Kenta was sprawled lazily on the sofa in front of the TV, as if he'd decided long ago that it was his spot.
"Still, the fact that your painting sucks hasn't changed in four years."
At Kenta's remark, as if he'd just remembered it, Serina got angry.
"So what! I'm not going to live my life based on my art grades alone!"
She retorted, her face bright red.
Seeing that, Kenta laughed with even more amusement.
"Yeah, yeah."
"God, why are you so mean!"
Serina threw the cushion she was holding at Kenta with all her might.
It hit his face with a dull *pomf*.
"...Your throwing form is terrible too."
"You're an idiot, Onii-chan!"
Even though Serina was angry, somewhere in her heart, she felt a little relieved.
Because this was their everyday normal.
But—
She hadn't been able to say what she wanted to.
The pounding heartbeat she'd felt during class today, the feeling of him holding her hand, everything.
All this time, she'd kept that prickly feeling in her chest locked away.
* * *
Late at night.
Serina got thirsty and went down to the kitchen on the first floor.
Glancing over, she saw light leaking through the gap in Kenta's door.
When she quietly peeked inside—
Kenta was sitting at his desk.
His serious profile held not a trace of his usual joking expression.
Spread out on the desk were reference books for the teacher employment exam.
Kenta had failed it three times already.
Serina knew about that impatience and pressure.
Even though he never once complained or showed weakness to anyone at home.
In the kitchen, Serina quietly brewed some coffee.
Then, without knocking, she entered the room.
"Hm?"
Kenta looked up.
Without a word, Serina placed the mug on the corner of his desk.
For a moment, Kenta looked surprised.
Then—
His eyes became just a little bit gentle.
"...What's this, are you the exam student now?"
But what came out of his mouth was, as always, teasing.
Serina smiled just a little.
In this one moment, somehow—
She felt like she was able to be a support for her brother.
It was a very small thing, but that made her happy.
(I wish it could stay like this forever.)
Deep in her heart, a part of her wished for that.
But she also vaguely understood that it couldn't stay like this forever.
Next week, a student teacher was coming.
That carried with it a faint premonition that something was about to change.
Outside the window, the nighttime Tsukimidai was quiet.
Only the sound of Kenta turning the pages of his reference book echoed softly.
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