Afterward, our father finished his coffee, breakfast, and newspaper before leaving, leaving Manaka and me alone.
The moment the door shut behind him, she snuggled into my arm, pressing herself close.
This time, we didn't do anything perverted—she simply nestled against me, and we enjoyed the quiet, intimate warmth of our morning afterglow in this simple gesture.
I held her, feeling her soft, pliant body mold against mine, her warmth seeping into me.
My fingers lazily traced over her back as I breathed in the lingering scent of her shampoo—sweet, delicate, intoxicating.
"Brother, do you want to join the Holy Grail War?" Manaka suddenly asked, her voice a soft murmur against my chest.
"I don't," I admitted, a smirk curling my lips. "But I do like watching the world burn."
"Oh, I see. You don't want to participate, but you want to enjoy the chaos," she translated effortlessly, understanding me in a way no one else ever could.
Her slender fingers traced idle patterns on my chest before she lifted her head, her blue eyes locking onto mine with a serious expression. "Is there anything else you wish for?"
"Of course." I chuckled, brushing my fingers against her cheek. "I want to fully enjoy you—for a whole day, a whole week, a whole month, a whole year… for a lifetime."
Manaka's cheeks flushed at my words, her lips parting slightly in surprise before curling into a pleased smile.
Noticing the perfect mood, I leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, slow kiss.
She melted into me, our bodies pressing together as we embraced, our tongues intertwining, savoring each other's taste.
I slid a hand down her back, pulling her flush against me, letting her feel the heat of my growing erection against her.
A muffled moan escaped her lips, her body shivering under my touch.
"Brother…" She looked up at me, her expression dazed, needy, completely drunk on desire.
"Manaka…" I whispered her name in the same lust-filled tone, my eyes devouring her flushed face.
We lost ourselves in each other, kissing over and over again, our lips swollen, bruised, and wet from the sheer intensity of it all.
Time blurred around us, the world outside forgotten, until the only reason we pulled away was the annoying reminder that we had school to attend.
"Hah… Brother… I love you more and more," Manaka confessed breathlessly, her voice thick with devotion and something dangerously possessive.
Her gaze sharpened as she stared at me, her fingers tightening slightly against my chest. "Will you seek another girl again like you did before?"
"As long as you always satisfy me and make me happy," I murmured, running my fingers through her silky blonde hair, "I'll always be yours, Manaka."
Her lips curled into a confident smirk.
"I will," she promised without hesitation, her arms circling around me as she pressed herself back into my embrace.
"School can wait, Brother. I want to kiss you more."
She leaned in again, sealing her lips over mine, and we lost ourselves in another round of deep, slow kisses, our bodies entangled, our breaths mingling.
We kissed so much, so long, that time slipped through our fingers—school completely forgotten.
We only became aware of it when the sharp creak of the door filled our ears.
Manaka's expression darkened as she reluctantly pulled away from me, her lips still wet and swollen from our morning indulgence.
A thin strand of saliva connected us for a fleeting moment before breaking, and the sight alone made me want to pull her back in, claim her all over again.
I was about to tease her, maybe remind her that she could rewrite reality itself and make whoever interrupted us completely unaware of what we were doing. But my words died in my throat the moment I saw who it was.
Ayaka.
Another sister of ours.
Compared to Manaka, Ayaka was... well, disappointing.
Too normal, too cowardly, too much like a stereotypical shoujo manga heroine—the kind of girl who'd blush and fumble over some bland male lead.
Even worse, she somehow had Gilgamesh, Arthur, and that blue-suited mutt—I forgot his name—chasing after her like a bunch of ikemen characters from an otome game, all vying for her heart in some pathetic reverse harem setup.
That fact alone was enough to make me lose any and all interest in her.
Now, if she were older? That'd be a different story. Once she grew up, she'd turn into an undeniable beauty. But right now?
Nah.
I greeted her with nothing more than a lazy wave.
"Morning, Ayaka."
"Morning, brother," she responded cheerfully, though her confidence crumbled instantly when she turned to Manaka.
Her voice became stammered, hesitant. "M-Morning to you too, sister."
"Yes, morning," Manaka replied, her tone as cold as ice.
Ayaka instinctively took a step back, her body reacting before her mind even processed it. She could tell—something was wrong.
Probably.
I reached over and gently ran my fingers through Manaka's hair, my touch soothing the silent rage burning beneath her expression.
She leaned into me, her tension easing slightly, but her blue eyes still carried a hint of menace.
Then she turned back to Ayaka, looking visibly dissatisfied, almost as if she was debating whether or not to let her presence slide.
This was the real Manaka.
No fake sweetness. No pretense of family bonds. Just cold, heartless indifference, a looming menace that only surfaced when someone interfered with her fun.
Before Manaka could say something truly vicious, I spoke up first.
"You should leave, Ayaka. Manaka isn't in the best mood right now."
Ayaka's face immediately relaxed, like she had just figured out a rational explanation for her sister's sudden hostility.
"Oh... that makes sense," she murmured, her mind scrambling to rationalize why her normally 'gentle' sister had suddenly become terrifying.
"Sorry, brother. Sorry, sister. I didn't mean to interrupt, but father asked me to remind you about school," she added quickly.
I smirked.
"Tell him we're ready."
Ayaka nodded, her previous unease replaced by ignorant happiness.
She left without a second thought, believing she had just solved the mystery behind her sister's strange behavior.
She had no idea.
"You're looking at her. You defended her. She stole your attention away."
Manaka's voice trembled, but it wasn't with fear—it was something darker. Something twisted.
Her blue eyes, usually filled with childlike amusement, were now black as the abyss, bottomless pools of obsession swallowing everything in sight.
"Why…? Why, brother…?"
She stared at me, searching for answers, for reassurance, for something only I could give her.
I didn't answer. Words weren't enough. She wouldn't believe them, anyway.
So instead—I kissed her.
Her eyes widened in shock, disbelief flashing across her face. But she didn't pull away immediately. Not until the realization hit.
Her hands twitched, her body stiffened, the sharp intake of breath told me she was about to shove me away, about to demand an explanation, about to keep questioning me.
I didn't let her.
I forced my lips harder against hers, my tongue shoving past her parted lips, claiming her without hesitation. A muffled gasp escaped her throat, her nails dug into my arms, but I didn't care. She needed to understand.
And she did.
Her resistance melted, little by little, surrendering to the raw hunger in my kiss.
My arms wrapped around her, tight, refusing to let her slip away, refusing to give her the chance to doubt.
I wanted her to feel it, to know—I had always been hers. There was no one else. Only her.
And she understood.
Her body relaxed, then shuddered.
A soft whimper left her lips as she pressed herself against me, as if realizing she had been starving for this.
Her arms snaked around my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled me closer, returning my hunger with her own.
She stopped waiting for me to take the lead. She took what she wanted.
Our tongues tangled in a deep, messy kiss—desperate, possessive, drowning in heat.
Saliva mixed, exchanged, neither of us caring about anything but the feeling of each other.
Her body was warm, so warm, pressing into mine with a need that couldn't be denied.
She wasn't just accepting this.
She was embracing it.