This is Mai’s home.

Yukieda tilted her head back, her snow-white hair dancing gently in the breeze.

Before her stood a slightly dilapidated house. The aged exterior had faded to an unsightly yellowish-black. Black plastic bags stuffed with clutter piled near the entrance. A clear crack split the stone steps, where stubborn blades of grass swayed softly in the gap.

Mai’s family didn’t seem well-off, yet Yukieda’s face showed no surprise. She carefully avoided any expression that might make Mai overthink. She didn’t want to hurt her—teenagers at this age were especially sensitive.

*creak*

Mai pushed the door open without a key—someone must be home.

“I’m home,” she murmured.

Yukieda followed softly, “Sorry for the intrusion.”

“Ahh~ Welcome back~!” A young boy, about seven or eight, came running and threw himself into Mai’s arms.

“We have a guest,” Mai reminded him gently.

The boy lifted his head, stealing a glance at Yukieda. She bent down slightly to seem less towering.

“Hello there, cute little brother,” she greeted warmly.

His face flushed. Oversized slippers *slap-slap*ped across the floor as he scurried away.

Mai’s room was upstairs. Floorboards creaked under Yukieda’s steps as she quietly observed. A faded coffee table, a small TV, a worn cabinet—each bore time’s mark. Yet everything was clean, neatly arranged. The house felt vintage, but Mai’s room told another story: manga and magazines piled high; on the desk sat a massive, ancient-looking computer.

“Yukieda-chan, feel free to read any manga. I’ll prepare snacks,” Mai said.

Yukieda almost declined—but held her tongue. *With strangers, accepting or refusing feels the same. With closeness, it changes.*

*Why did Mai invite me here so mysteriously?*

Bored, she picked up a manga.

*Inuyasha*.

This had to be decades old—forty years, at least? Smooth pages showed care; slightly crumpled corners revealed frequent reading.

A sensation of being watched.

Yukieda tilted her head. Her long hair spilled onto the tatami as she spotted the boy hiding behind the doorframe. He ducked back instantly, thief-like. Amused, she beckoned.

“Mai’s little brother, come here.”

She patted the space beside her with a pale hand. He hesitated, inched closer—but kept distance. Eyes wide, he studied her white hair and eyebrows.

“How can someone have white hair *and* white eyebrows?!” he blurted.

“Well… that’s because…” Yukieda lowered her head deliberately.

“I’m a youkai!!!” She spread her arms wide, pretending to gobble him up.

“Wah!”

Watching his flustered face, Yukieda felt genuine joy—a warm, big-sister satisfaction.

“What’s your name, little brother?”

“Yukiwa Tatsuya.” He pouted, realizing he’d been teased.

*Tatsuya? What a strong name.*

Mai returned with hot tea and a few pieces of senbei. She froze: Tatsuya was gently playing with Yukieda’s hair while she read manga on the tatami. *How did they get so close already?*

“Tatsuya! Don’t touch our guest’s hair!”

“Aww! Yukieda-nee didn’t mind!” He spotted the senbei. “Senbei?! I searched the whole house!”

He reached—*smack!*—Mai swatted his hand.

“For the guest!”

“Oh…” Reluctant but obedient, he stepped back.

Yukieda took one delicate bite, then pushed the rest toward him. He glanced at Mai. She sighed and nodded.

“Thank you, Onee-chan!” He munched happily.

“Yukieda-chan, don’t spoil him,” Mai chided.

“It’s fine. He doesn’t get these often,” Yukieda smiled—then remembered her empty bank account. *I need a part-time job…*

“Big sister needs to discuss grown-up matters with Yukieda-nee. Out you go,” Mai declared.

“No way!”

“Hey, you little rascal!” They chased around Yukieda. Tatsuya yelled, “Yukieda-nee is pretty and smells nice! She’s *my* big sister!”

“What did you say?!”

“Whoa—tyrannosaurus roaring!”

Caught quickly, Tatsuya was ushered out.

Mai opened her desk drawer, blushing as she handed Yukieda a stack of papers. *So this is why she invited me.* Yukieda’s eyes scanned the manuscript. *This is what she wrote secretly at school…*

Mai stared at her braided hair, twisting it nervously. “Yukieda-chan… this is my novel. Could you… read it?” Her voice trembled. Showing her writing felt like standing bare before Yukieda, exposing every hidden corner. She’d gathered immense courage—yet now doubted: *Is it even good?* She stole glances like a convict awaiting judgment.

“Have you shown this to anyone else?” Yukieda asked gently.

“No… I don’t have many friends. They say I’m old-fashioned… overweight…” Mai’s voice faded. “I wouldn’t show them anyway.” She looked up, hopeful.

“I am your friend, Mai-chan,” Yukieda said firmly, meeting her eyes.

Mai rarely held eye contact—glancing away after a second, uneasy. She gave a soft reply.

Yukieda stood. “Stay still.” She undid Mai’s braids, fingers weaving through hair scented faintly of cheap shampoo. Mai sat obediently.

Moments later, Yukieda felt proud. The transformation was stunning: long, thick hair framed Mai’s face, strands artfully draped to slenderize her cheeks into a gentle oval. Without thick glasses, her eyes shone large and bright. From a plain, slightly round-faced girl—she became a subtly elegant, curvaceous beauty. *Just a little weight loss… she’d shine.*

“Yukieda-chan?” Mai looked up, vulnerable.

Yukieda guided her to the mirror. Mai stared, disbelief dawning. *Is that… me?*

*No ugly girls—only girls who haven’t found their style yet,* Yukieda thought.

“If you go to school like this tomorrow, everyone will be shocked!”

Dusk softened the sky. Yukieda borrowed the manuscript. “Too much to read now—I’ll finish tonight and tell you tomorrow.” She added softly, “But the first pages… they’re really good.”

Mai beamed, floating in dual joy: her writing acknowledged, her appearance transformed.

At the genkan, Tatsuya emerged—reluctantly tearing his eyes from *Action Kamen* on TV. He’d never leave the screen for just any guest… but Yukieda-nee was *so* pretty.

“Please come again, Yukieda-nee!”

He planned to dash back the moment she left—then glanced at Mai.

“Big… big sister?!” he gasped in horror.

“What’s *that* reaction?!” Mai shot back.

Yukieda smiled inwardly. *They really do have a good relationship.*