Unstable Pulse

The concert went on for about an hour and a half, and the moment it concluded, I took Nae with me and headed back to the hotel room on my own. Moments later, the girls messaged me, asking where I was, and all I told them was that I wasn't feeling that well.

Thankfully, they didn't press me for answers. Instead, they drew up their own conclusions about how the noise from the stadium gave me a headache, which was partially true. The main reason, though... was that I didn't have it in me to face them. Not yet, at least.

After bursting into my hotel room, I beelined straight for the washroom. Once there, I leaned in as close to the mirror as humanly possible, practically going cross-eyed as I inspected my pupils for any signs of abnormality.

"Nothing weird..." I muttered, squinting harder like that would somehow change the results.

Not satisfied, I yanked open a drawer and grabbed the first thing I saw—a thermometer.

"Wait, why the hell is this even in here? Ah, whatever."

I shoved it into my mouth, waited half a second—because patience was clearly optional—then pulled it out.

"Ninety-eight degrees Fahrenheit. That's normal, right?"

Okay, so I'm not sick, but my stomach's doing some Olympic-level gymnastics, and my chest feels like it’s being compressed by a hydraulic press. I didn't even eat anything weird today—just lunch with the girls, and that was eight hours ago.

Still determined, I rushed back into my room, grabbed a stethoscope off the TV stand, and shoved the earpieces in before pressing the diaphragm against my chest.

Then it hit me.

"Forget the thermometer—where the hell did this thing come from?!"

Before I could even process my own stupidity, three knocks came from my door. I swung it open to find Nae standing there, staring at me like I had grown a second head. For a moment, I had completely forgotten she came back with me.

"You... You good, dude?" she mumbled, her eyes flicking to the stethoscope still dangling from my ears.

"Nae, look!" I turned the device toward her, showing the heart rate monitor reading. "A hundred and fifteen! That's not normal, right?! I knew something was off. There's definitely something wrong with me!"

"My guy, you're tweaking. Take that damn thing off before you make yourself look even more like a dumbass."

She reached over and yanked the plugs out of my ears before chucking the stethoscope across the room.

I could only watch in horror as it sailed through the air, disappearing into the abyss of the slightly messy hotel room.

Wait… now that I think about it… didn't that belong to Manager Na? And if so, why the hell did I even have it?

"Come here and sit down," Nae ordered as she strutted into the living area like she owned the place.

Reluctantly, I dragged my feet over and plopped down on the couch. Before I could brace myself, she leaned in so close that my personal bubble burst into a million pieces.

Not that it'd be the first time.

"Hmm… I see, I see," she muttered, squinting dramatically like some fake TV doctor.

"W-what?"

"I’ve completed the diagnosis, and, well… it's not looking great for you." She began pacing, hands behind her back like she was about to deliver a world-changing revelation. "You see, it's a very common case for introverted, lonely, cave-dwelling troglodytes like you, Big Bro. Symptoms include an accelerated heart rate, excessive warmth in the facial region, and general disarray of thought. All triggered by something that excites you—but no matter what you do, you can't seem to quite figure out the cause."

I swallowed. "Should I… be worried?"

"That depends. Do you wanna hear the cure?" She stopped, turned, and grinned so hard it looked physically painful.

At first, I considered saying yes. Nae was studying to be a doctor, after all, so maybe she actually knew something. But then reality crashed down on me like a meteor—she's my little sister.

Which meant—

"You," she declared, pointing at me with the confidence of a seasoned detective, "have contracted a severe case of love! L.O.V.E!"

"What? Wait, what?! No, Nae! Let me—"

Before I could protest, she skipped around the room like a child who had just cracked the code of the universe.

"Big Bro is in love~ Big bro is in love~ It’s a freaking miracle! You actually like someone?! And not just anyone—someone from Sunayomi! Who is it?! Spill, Big Bro! I need to know!"

"I’m telling you, Nae, that's not it! It's probably just… I dunno, the overly crowded stadium getting to my head. Yeah, that's it."

"Your denial is commendable, Sir Brother, but you ain't fooling anyone. So?!"

"...S-so what?"

She flopped onto the couch and scooted in so close that I physically recoiled.

"Is it Yoshino Yoko, my bias? Whoa~ Imagine if you married her—then I'd have an idol for a sister-in-law!"

"Eh?! That’s ridiculous—"

"Nah, wait. It can’t be her. You said she wasn't that cool a while ago. Then… is it Suguha Suzu?! You went out with her that one time and brought me her signed photo! Or maybe Mitsuki Mira?! You two did look like a couple at the mall. Or—" She gasped, eyes lighting up like she struck gold. "It’s Natsume Nabi, isn't it?! She even came to our apartment! Just for you! So?! Which one is it?!"

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, staring blankly ahead like I had just been told my entire life was a lie. Silence stretched between us. Then, ever so slowly, Nae's grin faded as she pieced together the horrifying truth.

"Oh. Oh, shit..." she blinked. "You like all of them, huh?"

I said nothing. Which, in itself, said everything.

Now we were both hunched over, staring at the floor like two people contemplating the meaning of life.

"You're so cooked, buddy," she muttered.

"I know..." I exhaled, dead inside.

Suddenly, the front door clicked open, but I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

"Oh, you guys are still awake. Good, I need to—"

He stopped mid-sentence, eyes locking onto us—two lifeless figures slouched on the couch, staring into the abyss.

"...Uh. You guys okay?"

"Define okay, sir," Nae muttered.

I followed up without missing a beat. "Because if okay means having a clear head, no worries, and a chest that doesn't feel like it's cracking open, then no. I don't think we’re okay."

He blinked. Once. Twice. Clearly debating whether or not he wanted to get involved.

"O...kay..." he said, still hesitant. "I'll just... leave you guys to it, then."

"Did you have something that required a discussion?" I asked, my tone completely serious.

"N-nah. Not important. Carry on."

With that, Manager Na shuffled off, muttering to himself as he went about his nightly routine.

"Put this here... and this here..."

A pause. Then, the sound of a coffee machine whirring to life.

"Hm... I'll put in more sugar this time. See how that tastes."

A few seconds later, a satisfied sip—then an abrupt stop.

"Whoa! Is that my stethoscope? I've been looking everywhere for this thing! How'd it end up here? Huh... Oh well."

He retreated to his room without another word, leaving Nae and me exactly where we were. Because a crisis like this requires time. If I go about it the wrong way… it could end in disaster.

"...By the way, Nae," I whispered. "Manager Na. He can never be allowed to know."

"Don't worry, Big Bro," she whispered back. "I gotchu."