The next morning dawned overcast, heavy clouds threatening rain at any moment.

At the Shindo Residence breakfast table, I sat across from Hidetomo and Ruri, forcing down my meal in awkward silence.

Ruri’s expression remained icy as ever, while Hidetomo’s gaze held a peculiar glint whenever it landed on me.

*Ahem.* "Ruri, Hidetomo," I cleared my throat. "There’s something important I need to tell you both."

"What is it, Onii-chan~? Are you finally going public about th—"

Before Hidetomo could finish, I lunged forward and clamped a hand over his mouth. "It’s NOT that kind of thing!!"

"...With the weekend almost here," I continued carefully, "I was thinking of taking you two—and a pair of siblings from my class—to see the cherry blossoms. What do you think?"

I had no idea if Ruri would agree. It was a tentative probe at best.

Ruri didn’t speak. She merely gave me a slow, unreadable look, then after a pause, gave a silent nod.

"Ohhh! Cherry blossom viewing!!" Hidetomo cheered the moment his sister consented. "Tell me, Onii-chan—what are your classmates like?"

"Huh? That..." I hesitated. Should I mention Tsuchi? Spoiling the surprise felt wrong... but they’d meet eventually anyway.

"...They live alone together, just like us. The sister sits behind me in class—sort of my desk partner. Her brother’s a salaryman."

Before Hidetomo could react, Ruri cut in, her voice flat. "Nii-san, a girl would willingly go cherry blossom viewing with *you*? Did you resort to some underhanded scheme?"

Her words carried a blade of doubt.

"Hey! What kind of brother do you take me for? What ‘underhanded scheme’ could I even pull?!" I sputtered, stung by my own sister’s suspicion.

"Hmm..." Ruri’s face stayed utterly blank. "Blackmailing people with their secrets. Isn’t that your usual method?"

"So in your eyes... I’m *that* kind of person?!" I groaned, burying my face in my hands. If this were a manga panel, my entire body would’ve turned ashen gray.

Truth was, Ruri’s harsh words stung because they held weight. Countless times, I’d used exactly those tactics trying—and failing—to win girls over. My sister’s stubbornly low affection level? Entirely self-inflicted. Back during my panicked early days after crossing over, I’d believed any means justified the end. By the time clarity struck, the damage was done. All that effort wasted. And how many innocent hearts had I trampled along the way...?

"...Ruri," I lifted my head slowly, "think. Her brother’s an *adult*. Would he agree if I’d used dirty tricks?"

"The only reason I’m going," Ruri stated coldly, her words slicing through me like an arctic wind, "is to show that girl your true scumbag nature. Don’t mistake this for any change in *my* opinion of you."

My body locked rigid. Petrified. Shattering. Crumbling. Until only a pair of cracked glasses remained where I’d sat.

*—My god! Must you toy with your faithful believers like this?!*

My dream of a cheerful weekend under the sakura blossoms evaporated. How could this even proceed now? I couldn’t bear imagining Ruri spilling my darkest secrets to Tsuchi-san...

I *had* to stop this. If Ruri was immovable, I’d intercept Tsuchi-san instead.

Then—like lightning splitting the sky—an idea struck. Tsuchi-san’s obsession with games flashed in my mind.

*—That’s it! I’ll do exactly that!*

Sakura viewing? Forget it. My sole mission now was preventing Tsuchi-san and my sister from ever meeting alone.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Breakfast ended in thick, uneasy silence. I grabbed my schoolbag and stepped out the door, umbrella already in hand. I sprinted down the street—the usual battleground of neighborhood housewives—but today’s "artillery barrage" felt fiercer than ever. Two days’ worth of pent-up domestic warfare, no doubt. I muttered dry curses under my breath, weaving through the crossfire.

My progress slowed under the onslaught, yet I moved with calm precision. My legendary evasion skills made dodging flying produce look effortless. Adjusting my glasses mid-stride, I murmured a boast:

*"Through ten thousand falling petals I stride—*

*Not a single one clings to my side..."*

But today, the housewives weren’t letting me escape so easily.

Just as I neared the street’s end, two paper sacks stamped "LOW-PROTEIN FLOUR" hurtled from opposite sides—aimed squarely at my feet.

*—Damn it!!*

My mind raced. The attack came from both flanks. My umbrella’s coverage was limited. What was the shadow area over my psyche right now?

*Zero.*

No panic. I gripped the umbrella handle, leapt high, and thrust the closed umbrella downward. The canopy snapped open with a *whoosh* just as the sacks slammed onto the pavement. They burst open, showering the street in thick white powder.

The flour cloud billowed—but the force of my umbrella’s sudden expansion redirected the entire plume sideways. Unscathed, I cleared the chaotic zone. Glancing back at the housewives already sweeping up the mess, I smirked faintly and broke into a run toward school.