The phone rang.
A vibration came from the corner of the kitchen counter. Yuki picked up her phone and glanced at the screen.
The notification interface for the Association's communication channel was lit up, with white text pulsing three times in the center of the screen.
Request for backup: one mid-tier Erosion Body.
Yuki turned off the screen, her fingers tightening around the sides of the phone.
Again.
Every single time, it was always like this.
It was the same at the aquarium, the same during lunch break, and now this.
It was as if the world was intentionally working against her, refusing to let her have even a single complete afternoon.
She looked up. Qiluo was still standing in front of the counter, holding the whisk, tilting her head as she looked at her.
“...Qiluo, I'm going out for a bit.”
“Where are you going?”
“We're almost out of tea leaves, and there might not be enough black tea. I'll also see if there's any good afternoon tea snacks while I'm out.”
“...Okay. Come back soon.”
Yuki didn't look back. She didn't dare to.
If she saw Qiluo standing in the kitchen wearing an apron, she might not be able to bring herself to leave.
She walked straight to the entryway. Bracing herself against the wall, she bent down to change her shoes, steadying herself with a hand on the shoe cabinet before standing up.
In the living room, Rin was sitting on the sofa, flipping through a medical journal.
Hearing footsteps, she looked up and saw her sister standing at the entryway, her expression somewhat off.
“Yuki?”
“We're almost out of tea. I'm going to buy some.”
“...I see.”
Rin didn't pry. She simply removed the thin blanket from her lap, folded it, and placed it on the corner of the sofa.
Yuki had already pushed open the door and left.
Once the elevator doors closed, she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath with her eyes shut.
After the soft click of the front door closing behind Yuki, only two people remained in the house.
Rin turned a page of the medical journal, but her eyes weren't on the words. Instead, they drifted to the light filtering through the cracked-open kitchen door.
She heard the whisk start spinning again. It was turning much slower than when Yuki was there, pausing for a few seconds every now and then.
The person holding it was probably trying to figure out if the contents of the bowl were finally done.
She closed the journal, placed it on the armrest of the sofa, and stood up to walk over to the kitchen door.
“Do you need some help?”
Qiluo was looking down, battling the flour in the bowl. Hearing Rin's voice, she looked up. A small smudge of flour sat on the tip of her nose, likely transferred there without her realizing.
She glanced at Rin standing in the doorway and lifted the whisk from the bowl, the dough stretching into a soft, glowing arc under the light.
“Perfect timing. Do you have any matcha powder? I want to make some plain ones and some matcha-flavored ones, but the ingredients Yuki bought are all for the plain ones.”
“Yes, on the top shelf of the second cabinet.”
Rin didn't ask any questions. She walked into the kitchen, opened the cabinet door, and stood on her tiptoes to reach the jar of matcha powder.
She paused when her fingers brushed against the edge of the jar. She had bought this matcha powder herself two months ago, and it had remained unopened ever since.
She thought no one had ever noticed it.
“How did you know I had matcha powder here?” She placed the jar on the counter.
“Just a guess~” Qiluo took the jar, unscrewed the lid, and took a sniff. “This brand of matcha powder is really good. It'll make the cookies look beautiful.”
It wasn't like Qiluo could say she had spotted it while flying around the house as a Contract Spirit.
Rin leaned against the counter, watching her sift the matcha powder into the dough, her movements slightly more cautious than before.
Her technique was indeed clumsy. Her hands weren't very steady with the measuring spoon and sifter, and a bit of matcha powder would occasionally spill onto the counter. But every time it did, she would instinctively use her fingertips to gently sweep it back.
“You don't have to be so careful. It's fine if you spill a little.”
“No way, this is your matcha powder.”
Qiluo gently tapped the sifter against the rim of the bowl, then suddenly looked up and smiled at Rin.
Rin's gaze lingered for a beat on the smudge of flour still on the tip of Qiluo's nose.
She recalled the scene between her sister and Qiluo today, as well as the scene during the physical examination last time. A vague impulse surged in her heart.
Could she approach Qiluo as naturally as Yuki did? Could she cross the boundaries she had drawn for herself?
“She told me to try making some friends too...”
But...
“...You have flour on your nose.” Rin took half a step forward and reached out.
Just as her fingertips were about to touch the flour, she pulled her hand back. Instead, she pulled a tissue from the nearby box and handed it to her. “Here, wipe it off.”
“Huh~ but my hands are covered in flour.” Qiluo held out her hands to show her. Her palms were sticky with a mixture of butter and flour; she really didn't have a free hand to take the tissue.
The tissue was lightly folded between Rin's fingers.
She clenched the tissue back in her palm and didn't offer it to Qiluo again.
Instead, she used the fingertips of her other hand to gently wipe the bridge of Qiluo's nose.
Only after doing so did she realize she had just done something very unlike herself.
The texture of the flour lingered on her fingertips—no, it was the texture of Qiluo's skin.
She lightly brushed the flour off her fingertips, but the tips of her ears began to burn.
“...There, all gone.”
She crumpled the tissue and threw it into the trash can, leaning back against the counter as she casually changed the subject.
“The recipe for matcha cookies is similar to the plain ones, but you have to be careful with the ratio of matcha powder. If you add too much, it will taste bitter.”
“Why did you... want to make matcha flavor?”
Before Rin could even ask, she already had the answer in her heart.
“Because someone likes it.”
After saying this, Qiluo lowered her head to continue sifting the matcha powder.
Rin couldn't see her expression.
She remembered the first time she had brought a classmate home. The girl had stood in the entryway and said, "Your house is so huge," and by the next day, the entire class knew her family was rich enough to open a museum.
She had never brought anyone home since.
Yet Qiluo Tian Gong hadn't asked a single question since she walked through the door.
She was simply doing the most ordinary thing in the most ordinary way.
It made Rin realize that what she had always yearned for was exactly this kind of simple ordinariness.
“...I want to try making some too.” Rin set down her coffee cup and rolled up the sleeves of her loungewear.
Qiluo looked up. The matcha dough in the bowl was already starting to take shape.
She watched Rin roll up her sleeves. Rin's movements were brisk, though she hesitated slightly, probably wondering if she should go find an apron.
“Awesome! I was worried I wouldn't be able to handle it all by myself.”
She pushed the bowl of plain dough on the counter over to Rin. “You take charge of the plain ones, and I'll handle the matcha. Let's get both trays baked before Yuki gets back!”
Rin took the bowl of plain dough and stared at it.
“...I rarely step into the kitchen. If I mess this up, we'll start over. Just don't tell Yuki.”
“If you mess up, I'll help you eat them. It's not like I've never eaten burnt cookies before. The first batch your sister gave me was actually a bit burnt around the edges too.”
Qiluo placed her index finger over her lips in a "keep it a secret" gesture.
Watching her do that, Rin could no longer hold back the curve of her lips.
She lowered her head and continued stirring the dough with the spatula, her movements much more natural than before.
Rin placed the spatula in the sink and turned on the faucet.
The water rushed against the stainless steel basin.
She held her hands under the stream, slowly washing away the flour, but her eyes remained fixed on Qiluo from the corner of her vision.
Qiluo Tian Gong.
This person had never followed the script Rin had laid out since the very first day they met.
Rin watched as Qiluo pressed the matcha dough into a thin sheet to make it easier to cut with the molds later.
She asked herself in her heart: “If Qiluo Tian Gong is just Yuki's friend, why did my heart beat so fast when I wiped the flour off her nose just now?”
“And why, when she said 'Because someone likes it,' did I wish so badly that she was talking about me?”
The answer had always been there; she just hadn't admitted it yet.
When she had watched her sister get tapped on the head earlier, the first thought that surged in her mind wasn't relief—it was envy.
And what about her? Was she merely Yuki's sister by happenstance?
“She suggested that I try making a friend too. So why can't that friend be her?”
No one ruled that Qiluo Tian Gong could only be Yuki's friend, just as no one ruled that an older sister couldn't fall for her younger sister's friend.
No, it wasn't about being an older sister. It was about her, herself.
Rate on N.U.
