10

At home, I didn't waste a second and immediately worked at the kitchen on a slower and more meticulous pacing.

After all, I had the whole day to myself. Taking a day off from my part time job surely had so many benefits (especially for resting), but I got none of it as I got to finish the errands my father left behind and the main objective, to cook for Asahina-san.

It's omurice, but unlike the one I cooked for my parents a few days ago, I actually used my biological mom's recipe for this specific dish. I remembered that I always liked her method of making it, but never knew her ingredients until I did experiments on my own.

Apparently, she adds honey to the egg mixture to intensify the sweet taste, and savory umami powder in the fried rice to balance out both.

I tried to weigh options as a token of gratitude for Asahina-san stepping in and sparing me a hard time dealing with Kanzaki. I don't know what else she likes besides omurice, so it's a no-brainer decision.

The plan was simple: I'll leave it in her room, walk away and refuse to acknowledge it just like what she did. A gyudon for an umbrella, then an omurice for saving my sorry ass.

Standing in front of her slightly opened door, plate in hand, I already regretted it. Sneaking into a girl’s room—my stepsister’s, no less—was basically begging for execution once caught. I told myself it was no different from leaving a package at someone’s doorstep. But we're no strangers, and we keep considerable distance from each other plus I had dignity and self-respect I've been keeping for so long.

I willed myself and slid the door open. As expected, her room wasn't falling into the category of 'girly' or 'fancy'. It was still the same as the day I helped her arrange it—clean, minimalist to the point of sterility.

I placed the plate on the desk carefully and turned around to leave. Though seeing the titles on her bookcase made me pause.

There are mainstream paperbacks tucked between academic books. You got a popular novel on one side, then a book about astrology on the other. A history book on top then a cookbook of french pastries below it.

It felt like two people lived here. The Asahina-san that reads about people being transported to another world and the Asahina-san that only believes upon results of extreme research and deduction.

However, one specific book lying defenselessly on the bed caught my eye.

"...Huh?"

As I stepped closer, the words on the pages became legible.

Was he an animal, that music could move him so? He felt as if the way to the unknown nourishment he longed for was coming to light.

I knew this, with all of my heart.

"...Kafka." The name escaped me without even conscious thought. It just slipped out like a sigh.

And the thing was, alienation and transforming into something you never chose to become weren't foreign to me. Did Asahina-san feel the same? Did she choose this book for the same reason I did?

The question didn't linger for long as I realized that I am already overstaying here. If Asahina-san was just busy in her club meetings, then she should be on the way home right now.

“...What are you doing here, Fujimiya-kun?”

"Heh?!"

I jolted in shock as if a kitten caught in the kitchen. I spun towards the door, and Asahina-san stood there, a schoolbag slung over her shoulder, eyes sharp with suspicion.

“I—” I stepped back, retreating to the safest, most neutral corner of the room, as if distance could erase the evidence of my intrusion. But the implications were already written across her face.

“I was just…leaving something."

The most obvious lie for someone caught red handed. I didn't even believe in myself.

"Leaving something, huh?" she mused, finally crossing her arms.

I just stood in the corner with my head hung down, and quietly nodded. It really felt like I'm a criminal awaiting judgement.

"I cooked something for you. But yeah, I should've given it to you directly instead of leaving it here. I really feel like a creep right now disrespecting our privacy."

Her brow lifted the slightest fraction.

“You make it sound like an alibi.”

“…You can say that.”

“Honestly, I am not mad at you or anything. We're already stepsiblings, and there could be times that we will be in each other's room without our knowledge. For example, when you're not around and Reiji-san or Mama suddenly asks me to clean our rooms, hmm?"

"That's correct. But we still need consent in some instances, right?"

"I only said it from my perspective. There's nothing concerning about my room except...that."

She turned her head towards the cabinet which out of curiosity, I followed. Beside the cabinet are her spare uniforms, skirts and some colored fabric that I had no intention of seeing again. I quickly averted my gaze.

"...Sorry."

"You don’t really look like the type of person who’d steal that sort of thing.”

The bluntness of it stabbed through me. I coughed, heat rising unbidden to my face.

"...Not at all."

Of course I won't. My moral compass complies with whatever law exists. It's not that I’m stupid, no. But as a socially compliant individual, I can never bring myself to break such laws unless absolutely necessary. And I certainly wouldn’t do something without permission, whether it is stealing underwear from my little sister or invading someone's personal space.

After recollecting myself, I explained the logic behind my decision. Doing something reckless as this surely will result in unforeseen domestic encounters, I should've been reminded. Asahina-san was angry, yes, but remained calm and listened to me carefully and even being considerate with my feelings.

"So that's how you ended up tangled with him, huh?"

I nodded.

"That wasn’t even my fault. I didn’t mean to be rude or to taunt him, if that’s what you’re implying. Boys are just—” I searched for the words, clenching my hand once before loosening it again. "naturally born violent. If anything, we're just inherently hungry for competition and want to reign supreme over other men."

"It’s…animalistic, right?”

From an objective standpoint, that's what best describes it. And for the first time, her expression shifted from skepticism to interest.

"It's good to know that you're seeing things beyond the surface." she added.

"That's why I remained calm earlier. I'm assessing where he was coming from, and knowing that his reason for aggression was baseless, I decided not to respond with any kind of provocation. It seems to have worked."

"Hmmm," she replied nonchalantly, as though pondering the fact I just told her. Her gaze lingered on me, analyzing me with an intensity that made me nervous.

Then she said quietly, “You’re still thinking about what I told him.”

The memory stabbed me sharper than the wound in my foot.

"Ah, that? Well..." I scratched my head. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But this uneasiness is more like a surprise. I just didn’t anticipate you would use that card, especially for someone like me.”

"That's the only way I could think of to get rid of him."

"We're on the same page on it so you don't have to worry. If there’s something to worry about, it’s the rumors Kanzaki might spread.”

We held each other’s gaze.

"That won’t bother me. No one at school knows we’re step-siblings. And even if they did…” She looked away, almost absently, to her shelves. “I’ve already alienated myself from the rest of the girls in my section. Their opinions mean nothing to me.”

The word stuck in my head.

Alienated.

My gaze flicked to the bed again, right to the still half-finished book where my interest in literary works blossomed.

“Is that why you’re reading Kafka’s Metamorphosis?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Her head turned sharply back to me. A flicker of surprise broke through her composure. “...So you noticed. Are you also reading it by any chance?”

“Hard not to. It’s one of my favorites.”

Her brow furrowed. “Favorites? You don’t just…read it casually?”

I shook my head.

“No. I don’t just read it. I love the whole thing. Kafka's deep dive into alienation the way Gregor’s transformation reflects how people recoil from what they don’t understand—it’s…” I trailed off, unsure whether to tell that part or not. “It’s my life after the scandal."

For a moment, there was only silence.

“So you find watching people suffer entertaining?”

My shoulders recoiled. She just went to the worst conclusion right there…

"I never said that, no..."

"Hm?"

“I love it because it lets me see clearly how alienated people’s minds work—and how those around them react. That’s why I keep going. Because if I can’t get out of my own shell, at the very least…maybe I can stop others from being pushed into theirs.”

I didn't know that my heart was already thumping hard after saying those words.

It looks like I already gave her so much honesty at this point. I couldn't help but wonder whether I already adjusted to each other accordingly as we agreed upon or worse, I became comfortable living with her under the same roof.

Perhaps, I had no intention of hiding anything from her anymore.

Only then did I notice her face casted downwards. I couldn't tell if it's from discomfort or deep thought, but regardless of the reason, I called out to her.

“…Are you alright?” I asked finally.

Her lips parted slightly, probably trying to form a coherent answer. But her gaze dropped once more.

“You and I..." she lifted her cold gaze again, but now, it was tinged with something else. "share the same worldview after all. Maybe we’re closer to understanding each other than I thought.”

My breath caught.

It wasn't a smile she gave me. But rather, the first time I saw something empathic in her eyes. Something that looked similar to respect, and maybe a small amount of pride.

After that, she looked at the plate on her desk. “In that case,” she said, almost matter-of-factly, “I’ll receive the omurice you made.”

I nodded once, careful not to let anything betray me. “...Good to know. Then I’ll get out of your room.”

I backed toward the door and turned around.

There was a ridiculous weight being pulled out my chest just knowing that she gratefully received what I made exclusively for her. It's lighter than ever before, and I can't determine whether because I managed to balance out or give and take setup or due to sheer relief that I managed to get her approval.

Or probably there's a third option I don't have a name for.

Because there's an expression that betrayed me, right in my lips—a genuine smile that I cannot show her yet.