Serica, widowed young, had given birth to a pair of adorable twins. In other words, Furide had a younger sister.

I’d known this for ages.

As the Elvenfolk’s "Ambassador of Goodwill" to humans, Serica was one of the few elders who supported the Elven Queen’s romance with my old man.

Back when my stepmom was brought to the forest and climbed the World Tree threatening to jump, it was Serica who silenced the dissenters and talked her down.

【Your Majesty, please come down! The foreman agreed—ahem, that human man promised to take you back!】

My father owed Serica a great debt. Because of that, I’d visited her home as a child.

Furide was just a kid then. Though he had short hair, even I mistook him for a girl.

But he seemed to hate me, clinging to those typical Elf prejudices.

Hmph! You hate me? I hate you right back!

Though his sister was rather nice…

I recall—Furide’s younger sister was named Flan, right?

Pale golden hair, cheeks ghostly white. She looked fragile, sickly.

Little Flan had been frail since birth, making her painfully shy. Back then, she’d clung tightly to her mother’s hand, peeking at me from behind her back.

Unlike Furide, who dreamed of "becoming the finest Elf man," Flan seemed to have no ambitions at all. Her eyes held the vacant stare of a fish on the chopping board.

What had I done for her back then, before the Trials haunted me…?

…

"Y-you’ve waited long, Master! Today’s tea is brewed from fresh leaves of the World Tree! P-please enjoy!"

Furide’s nervous voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I shook my head, clearing the memories. I’d only met little Flan a handful of times as kids. After all these years, she’d surely forgotten me.

Besides, I hadn’t come to visit these Elf siblings just for Fuu’s sister.

"Ah… thanks."

I replied absently.

Due to their unique heritage—and Furide’s… particular nature—he and Flan shared a private dormitory. The standalone cottage felt like a cozy Elven home.

But that wasn’t the issue.

"Fuu," I frowned, scanning him head to toe. The Elf stiffened, then fidgeted, pressing down his skirt hem.

"Haven’t I seen this outfit somewhere?"

"Eh!? You noticed, Master!?"

Furide bounced up, beaming like a boyfriend praised by his crush.

He whipped out that cursed doujinshi.

"I redesigned this overnight! Based on my character in this manga! You finished reading it too, Master!? I’m so happy!"

Happy my sister! This Elf’s hopeless!

Does he even realize he’s holding porn?!

"Flan will be back soon after her remedial class. I’ll prepare lunch! If you’re bored, Master, read Whisper Teacher’s earlier work to pass time!"

Tying an apron, Fuu skipped into the kitchen, hips swaying.

Like I’d ever read that!

I nearly blasted the manga off the table with a fireball.

After all, I’d given up lazy holiday mornings and Lorian’s lap-pillow afternoons to come here—for that so-called "artwork."

…

According to Lorian, "Underworld Big Shot" Whisper Teacher had drawn the best-selling doujinshi of me and Furide based on her brother’s real experiences.

And the address Lorian gave led straight to the Elven forest. No doubt remained.

The Whisper Teacher I’d hunted for so long was Flan—Serica’s daughter, Furide’s sister, the frail Elf girl I’d met as a child!

She was now studying at Rosric Academy as an exchange student alongside her brother!

What twisted mind would draw doujinshi of her own brother and another boy?!

Then again… that sickly little Elf I remembered hardly seemed capable of such scandal…

What had happened in these ten years…?

…

"B-brother, I’m home."

A soft, unfamiliar girl’s voice cut through my thoughts.

Turning, my distant memories finally overlapped with reality.

Serica’s daughter. Furide’s sister—Flan.

A decade apart, yet I recognized her instantly: the Elf girl clutching a bread bag was the same child who’d hidden behind Serica all those years ago.

Her pale gold hair now flowed to her waist. Her face, softer than Furide’s but still touched by sickly pallor, held familiar features. Unlike other Elves’ emerald eyes, hers burned crimson…

As my stepmoms put it: Flan wasn’t just frail—she was "special."

After all, Furide’s sister couldn’t even walk streets in daylight without a parasol.

"Y-you… hello, little Flan. Do you remember me?"

Flustered from staring too long, I rushed to greet her.

But the shy Flan froze like a clockwork toy out of oil the moment she saw me.

Her cherry lips parted soundlessly—likely terrified by a "strange girl" in her home.

I sighed.

"R-right… it’s been almost ten years."

Back then, I’d visited as a boy.

Now, thanks to endless complications, I wore women’s clothes. Of course she wouldn’t recognize me!

To her, I was probably just "some suspicious human woman my brother brought home."

Imagine it: a devoted little sister, clutching art supplies and fresh bread, ready for a cozy lunch with her brother—only to find a stranger in her living room!

And this human woman even called her by name, acting like she owned the place!

No sister would tolerate that!

"W-wait, Flan, let me explain—"

I scrambled to clarify I wasn’t a suspicious woman, but a suspicious man—

Ugh, no! I’m not suspicious at all! And I absolutely don’t want to be your future sister-in-law or brother-in-law! I’m the "little brother" you met as a kid—

But Flan recognized me first.

Before I could even introduce myself!

"You’re…"

The bread bag slipped from her hands. Her crimson eyes swirled with emotions I couldn’t decipher.

Nervousness, shyness, nostalgia—understandable.

But why did I also see… excitement?

That kind of excitement…

Like…

Like seeing living material for her next artwork. The restless hunger of a creator spotting fresh inspiration…

Flan, Furide’s sister—could she really be…

"You’re… the crossdressing boy x drag queen’s A*sha!!!?"

"I am not!"

And stop censoring names with OOO already!