"Eriri-san, can I interview you for a bit?"
Yukima Azuma’s voice carried a teasing lilt as he sat beside the flustered blonde, crossing one leg over the other like a nosy reporter ready to dig into scandal.
She groaned, head low, bangs drooping.
"What were you thinking," he asked dramatically, voice full of mock judgnt, "coming all the way to your horoom teacher’s rented apartnt, just to copy howork?"
"I forgot, okay?! I forgot!" Eriri wailed, face crumpling in distress as she frantically scribbled into her half-finished workbook.
Her expression scread existential regret. The ani marathons. The doujin deadlines. The procrastination.
All of it had co crashing down.
To be fair, Kirisu Mafuyu hadn’t been ho much these past few days, having been busy with an advanced teaching course over at Shuchiin Academy. Eriri had assud the coast was clear.
But she hadn’t realized—had completely forgotten—that Kirisu Mafuyu was also renting her place at Yukima’s house.
So when she burst in like a desperate soul seeking salvation from howork damnation...
She walked right into the lion’s den.
Kirisu had caught her red-handed.
There was no rcy.
No chance to borrow.
No chance to copy.
Now, Eriri had no choice but to actually do the howork herself—one painful problem at a ti.
And whenever she didn’t understand sothing, she’d glance over with puppy-dog eyes.
"Azumaaa... help ee..."
Yukima obliged.
Might as well treat it as a study session, he thought.
A final cram before the term began.
From a teacher’s point of view, Kirisu Mafuyu wasn’t wrong. Eriri had barely passed her exams last sester. If she didn’t put in real effort now, she’d fall behind the mont classes resud.
And when finals rolled around again?
She’d be back to crying, pencil clenched in hand, wailing over formulas like they were death sentences.
Yukima Azuma watched her struggle with a basic algebraic equation, brow furrowed like she was facing the final boss of a JRPG.
This girl...
He reached over and gently ruffled her golden twintails.
"You’ve got this," he said, smiling. "A little airheadedness is cute too."
Eriri blinked, then pouted.
But the truth was, those head pats felt... nice.
Comforting.
Reassuring.
She mumbled a quiet thanks, her cheeks a touch pink.
After everything they’d shared—late nights, whispered confessions, intimate touches—sothing as simple as a head pat carried a different kind of weight.
They weren’t strangers anymore.
And so, Eriri allowed herself to lean just a little into the warmth of his presence.
Suddenly, she rembered sothing.
"Ah! Right—I almost forgot again!"
She set her pen down and rummaged through her bag. After a mont, she produced a small white envelope.
"There was sothing in the mailbox outside," she said. "I thought it was just junk mail, but... it had your na on it."
She handed it over.
Yukima Azuma accepted the envelope, turning it over slowly.
No sender’s na.
But on the recipient’s line—
"Yukima Azuma", written with graceful, precise strokes.
His eyes widened faintly.
Eriri leaned in, her curiosity on full display.
"In this day and age, soone’s writing letters instead of just ssaging on Line? That’s super rare..."
He didn’t respond right away.
He quietly tore open the envelope.
Inside were two neatly folded sheets of stationary.
The mont he unfolded them and saw the first line—
"[Dear Onii-chan-sama, I hope this letter reaches you safely.]"
—he knew.
Even if only a month had passed for him, for the girl who wrote this, it had been...
Three long years.
He ran his fingers across the ink.
So delicate. So carefully written.
Every stroke was soaked in emotion.
He continued reading.
[As promised, I have patiently waited for three years. Now that the three-year period is over, I am sending you this letter.
Even though you said we would et again after three years, I can’t help but feel a little anxious.
After all, the way we t was already so strange.
I have arrived in Tokyo and have heard a lot about you.
I wonder if Onii-chan still rembers this little sister of yours?]
Yukima’s eyes narrowed slightly.
His breath slowed.
[We will be seeing each other soon.
If Onii-chan still rembers , I will happily give you a hug filled with longing.
If Onii-chan has forgotten , that’s okay too.
I will pretend we never t, and let us have a new encounter from the beginning.
Dear Onii-chan, I hope this letter reaches you safely.
I did not leave my na, but my longing and anticipation are completely real.]
A mont of silence passed.
He folded the letter again with careful hands.
Sasuga, Yuki.
Her handwriting hadn’t changed. Still so ticulous, filled with careful grace.
Even after their three-year promise, she still worried she might cause trouble.
So instead of barging into his life—
She sent a letter. To prepare him.
Even if I’ve forgotten you, huh...?
It was a soft gesture.
A gentle approach.
A reunion planned with care.
Yukima Azuma tucked the letter away.
She’s in Tokyo. She’s really here...
Eriri raised an eyebrow, unable to hold her tongue.
"Azuma, was that from soone you know?"
He nodded.
"Yeah. It’s from my little sister."
Eriri blinked.
Little sister?!
Azuma had a little sister?!
She’d known he moved from Chiba and lived alone—but never heard anything about siblings.
But... well, it wasn’t impossible. They could be cousins. Or maybe half-siblings. Or sothing else.
Eriri, already imagining her future role as Mrs. Yukima Azuma, quickly adjusted.
"Ohh~ imouto-san! Did she write about sothing important?"
Her tone was extra polite now.
After all, building rapport with the little sister could only help her case as a future bride.
Yukima gave a vague shrug.
"Not really. Just letting know she’s arrived in Tokyo."
He kept his tone casual, concealing the emotion in his chest.
Eriri let out a breath of relief.
No drama, no urgent issue. That was good.
Now she could return to the real ergency—
Her howork.
"Azumaaa, how do I do this part again?"
She pointed helplessly at the page.
Yukima chuckled and picked up a pen.
"You forgot this formula again? I’ll walk you through it..."
The Next Morning
The sun peeked over the horizon, its rays soft and golden.
Sumr had not fully left yet, but the morning breeze already whispered of autumn. There was a chill in the air—not enough for coats, but enough to make bare arms shiver.
Yukima Azuma returned from his morning run, sweat clinging to his brow, breath steady.
He entered quietly.
Kirisu Mafuyu had already left for school, dressed crisply in her fitted blazer, heels clicking with professional poise. The start of the new term ant paperwork, staff etings, and a parade of half-asleep students.
anwhile—
Eriri was still passed out cold.
Despite finishing her howork late into the night, she had completely collapsed afterward.
Her limbs were splayed across the bed in a dramatic "X," one leg dangling off the edge, her mouth slightly open with a trail of innocent drool.
Unbelievable.
Yukima shook his head with a smile and unlocked the door to her room using one of the four keys now in his possession.
After Hokkaido, Eriri had given him her key.
gumi had handed hers over the day she moved in.
Utaha? She had tossed hers at him right after the book signing.
And even Kirisu Mafuyu had reluctantly passed hers over after a long debate about cleaning schedules.
Only Yukino remained.
And she’d probably cave in soon too.
He walked over to Eriri’s bedside.
"Hey. Ti to get up."
He poked her cheek gently.
"Mmmmmm~... five more minutes..." she mumbled, curling tighter into the blankets.
"You’ll be late. You don’t want to ss up your perfect oujou-sama image, right?"
"Mm... image can wait... sleep more important..."
She rolled away from him.
Yukima stared at her.
A long sigh escaped his lips.
Guess I have no choice...
He raised his hand—
SLAP!
The sharp smack landed clean on her rear.
Eriri flinched with a soft yelp.
But instead of getting up—
She raised her hips slightly higher.
Yukima paused.
Then smirked.
This girl... has she awakened sothing dangerous?
All those late-night doujin techniques...
Had she turned into a total degenerate already?
"Well then... guess you leave no choice."
He reached down and launched his ultimate weapon:
Tickling.
"AHHHHH! AHAHAHAHA—S-STOP! STOP!!" Eriri thrashed.
"I’m up! I’M UP! I CAN’T BREATHE!"
"YA—YAROOOOOOOOOO!!"
She kicked the blankets off in a panic, wriggling like a caught shrimp as Yukima continued his ruthless assault.
Finally, gasping, red-faced, and out of breath, Eriri sat up in bed, hair a tangled ss.
"Y-You sadist...!"
"Good morning to you too."
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