[ENG] Tier 1 Sisters: The four famous sisters can't live without me Volume 1 Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Tier 1 Sisters

I don’t need any likes in my life.

Some badge of approval from others? It’s just empty flattery. In the end, a life propped up by other people’s validation is nothing but a hollow shell. True happiness? You don’t get that unless you can stand on your own two feet. I figured that out a long time ago.

“Ranka-chan! Watched your video from yesterday! You were so cute!”

“Thanks! Hey, if you liked it, hit that like button for me, yeah?”

“Already did—Duh, of course I did!”

Smartphones came too soon for humanity.

The illusion of holding the whole world in your palm—it’s way too fragile when your ego’s starving for approval.

The ancients said it best: ‘The gentleman harmonizes but does not conform; the small man conforms but does not harmonize.’

There’s a difference between getting along and just going along. Watching movies at double speed to keep up with trends or slapping a like on some pointless SNS post with a blank stare—what about that makes your life richer? Nothing.

And don’t even get me started on romance. The epitome of inefficiency.

“…What’s up with that Kiminaga guy? What does he even do besides study…?”

“…Even for a private school, that dude’s on another level of weird…”

“…Does he even watch videos or anything…?”

“…Nah, no way. Word is, his school-issued tablet’s got nothing but textbooks and study guides…”

“…Yikes. No wonder he’s always in the top ten nationwide. Guy’s unhinged…”

I don’t care how anyone sees me. That’s got nothing to do with who I am.

I define myself. Always have.

I’ll play nice, sure, but I don’t follow the crowd. I just keep grinding, sharpening my skills. Study hard. Work hard. If life had a strategy wiki, those two would be rule number one for the student phase.

That’s me—Kiminaga Shikimi. That’s my one and only philosophy.

Go ahead, my foolish classmates. Waste your lives at diners and karaoke joints. While you’re at it, I’ll be climbing to heights you can’t even dream of, chasing down what real happiness looks like. By the time you’re crying about what you should’ve done, it’ll be too late. When this gentleman stands tall, you’ll have already thrown away your shot at being anything like me—

“Kiminaga, you’re working a part-time job, aren’t you?”

—or so I thought.

“Got a report about you. This school’s got a no-job policy. Break it, and you’re looking at expulsion. You know that, right?”

The day my homeroom teacher called me out, my life took a sharp detour.

Yeah.

The moment the school’s ultimate authority—the director—dropped this bombshell on me.

“Kiminaga Shikimi-kun. How about I offer you a different job instead?”

Dodging a fluffy dog-walking madam with the precision honed from my newspaper delivery days, I race down a narrow slope, letting gravity do the work.

The location was Daikanyama, a fancy residential district.

And tearing through it on a beat-up mom-bike? That’s me, Kiminaga Shikimi.

Ignoring the side-eyes from madams parading their pampered pets like trophies, I screech to a stop in front of a certain apartment building.

“This is the director’s place…”

I mutter, craning my neck so far back it hurts.

A towering high-rise in Daikanyama, one of Tokyo’s ritziest neighborhoods, looms like it’s looking down on the whole district. I can’t even guess how much rent costs here—my budget brain can’t compute. Gleaming silver under the clear blue sky, it’s like a modern-day castle.

—Housekeeping for the director’s home.

That’s the gig I was offered to avoid getting kicked out of school.

And the pay? Not just decent—it’s leagues above the fast-food joints and cleaning gigs I’ve been scraping by on. We’re talking executive-level cash compared to my old grunt work.

They say I got this sweet deal because of my grades, but… is a deal this good even legit?

I can’t quite wrap my head around it, but money’s money. And housework? I’m good at that. You’d be hard-pressed to find a better gig than this.

Steeling myself, I stepped into the building’s entrance and pressed the room number into the intercom at the auto-locked door.

‘—…Yes?’

A woman’s voice. They said someone from the house would answer, but maybe it’s another helper?

“Uh, I’m here for the housekeeping job.”

‘Ohh, right, right, I heard about you. Door’s open, come on in!’

The automatic door slides open silently. Feels like I’ve stepped into some sci-fi flick.

I hop into the elevator and head to the top floor. It’s so smooth I barely feel it move, and when the doors open, it’s like I teleported.

Walking down a hallway so quiet it’s eerie, I stop in front of the target door.

Room 3001.

They said to just come in, right…?

The heavy door gives me a moment’s pause, but I’ve got permission. Nothing to be scared of.

Muttering a quick “Excuse me,” I turn the knob and step inside.

The entrance opens into a massive living space on the right—more like a banquet hall than a living room. You could throw a full-on party in here.

But, uh… to put it bluntly…

It’s a freaking mess.

“Aww! So cute♥! Look over here♥, c’mon, look at me♥!”

A weird voice drifts from behind a pile of empty cardboard boxes.

What the hell? It’s not the same voice from the intercom. Then again, voices sound different in person than over a speaker, don’t they?

I figure I should introduce myself, so I kick off my shoes and peek into the living room from the entrance.

And then.

I lock eyes with… a butt.

“God, you’re just too perfect♥! How are you this adorable♥?”

The butt’s talking.

A butt clad in pale pink women’s underwear, swaying side to side while cooing in a syrupy voice.

What is this creature…?

It’s been a while since people started preaching about diversity, but a butt-only lifeform? Can we even call that human? I need an expert’s opinion on this one.

“Meow~♥Meow-meow-meow~♥ Meow—huh?”

Our eyes meet.

Human eyes this time.

The thing I mistook for a butt-only monster is actually a girl, crawling on all fours with her rear sticking out. She’s wearing just a T-shirt up top and panties below—sloppiness taken to the extreme. But her face? Surprisingly familiar.

“Oh, you’re in my class—”

Always surrounded by people, posting some kind of SNS videos… Kichijoji… what’s her name again?

While Kichijoji Something-or-Other freezes, a cat lets out a meow and darts across the living room. So that’s what she was doing—filming the cat with her phone. Just a cat, huh.

“—MNYAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

A piercing shriek stabs my ears. Kichijoji Something-or-Other’s face goes beet red as she leaps straight up.

I clap my hands over my ears. In that split second, she yanks her T-shirt down to cover her panties and plasters herself against the wall, putting as much distance between us as possible.

Crap. I haven’t even introduced myself yet.

“I’m here for the housekeeping job—”

“PERVERT!”

What!? A pervert!? Where—

“—Take that!”

A cardboard box full of stuff flies at me, smacking me square in the face. Women’s clothes spill out, fluttering down and piling onto me as I’m knocked flat on my back. Everything goes dark.

What the hell! Why am I the one getting attacked!? Did she mistake me for the pervert!? No, that can’t be it…

“Hey, you guys! I know you’re in there! Get out here!”

I struggle in the darkness, clawing away the heap of fabric on my face. What’s this? A blouse? This one’s a skirt. Something’s in my mouth—panties!?

When I finally clear my vision, someone’s slowly descending the stairs from the second-floor mezzanine.

“…Ranka, you’re too loud… It’s picking up on my mic…”

It’s a girl with oddly long bangs, drowning in an oversized, baggy hoodie.

Then, the front door behind me clicks open.

“I’m home! Whoa, what’s going on, Ran-nee? What’s with the outfit?”

A petite, cheerful-looking girl steps in from the entrance.

“A pervert! A stalker! A thief! He snuck in while I was focused on filming…!”

Kichijoji Something-or-Other points a finger at me, buried under a mountain of clothes, as three girls line up to stare down at me.

…What the hell…!

All I wanted was to do my job… So why am I clutching panties while three random girls loom over me!?

“Housekeeping, you say?”

Once I finally explain myself, the T-shirt-and-panties girl—now dressed in a turtleneck, shorts, and black tights—Kichijoji Something-or-Other crosses her arms under her chest and scowls.

“If you’re gonna make excuses, at least make ’em convincing. Can I call the cops now?”

“It’s true! The director told me to—”

“Mama? How do you know my mama’s the director—”

The fiery Kichijoji cuts herself off, narrowing her eyes and staring at my face.

“…Wait a sec. I knew I’d seen you somewhere… You’re that nerdy Kiminaga from our class, aren’t you?”

“Finally remembered, huh… Kichijoji Whatever-Your-Name-Is.”

“It’s Ranka! Kichijoji Ranka! You’re the one who didn’t remember!”

Right, right, that’s her name.

The loudest girl in our class, always at the center of the noisiest group, sometimes doing weird dances in the classroom or hallways. So she’s the director’s daughter?

Kichijoji Ranka’s cheek twitches like she’s holding something back.

“I can’t believe this… To think I’m in the same class as you, and you don’t even know my name…”

“Sorry. I’m not great with faces.”

“The face of Japan’s most famous high school girl!?”

“Pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Japan’s most famous? Talk about an ego.

“Ugh!”

Ranka grits her teeth in frustration and whips out her smartphone.

“Fine, you’re just some stalker, aren’t you? I’m calling the cops!”

“…Then how’d he get in?”

A quiet voice cuts in. It’s the girl with the long bangs and baggy hoodie. Her right eye’s completely hidden by her hair.

“It’s an auto-lock. No way he gets in unless one of us lets him. It's totally impossible.”

“Meru-nee’s right, Ran-nee,” the petite girl chimes in.

“Someone had to let him in from inside, right? Isn’t that so, Thief-san?”

The petite girl crouches down beside me, tilting her head with a teasing smile. Up close, her face is almost idol-level perfect, and her voice is clear as a bell.

“Y-Yeah… Someone let me in. A woman’s voice, not any of you…”

“…Maybe…”

The three of them exchange knowing looks and turn toward something.

A massive blackboard-sized monitor is mounted on the white wall.

“Kiku-nee!” Ranka shouts.

Right on cue, the monitor flickers to life.

‘You rang?’

It’s an illustration. A moving one.

A blonde girl in what looks like a high school uniform blinks her eyes and sways side to side, speaking in a familiar woman’s voice.

Ranka snaps at the monitor.

“Hey, Kiku-nee! You’re the one who let this guy in, aren’t you…!”

‘Huh? Oh, yeah, that was me.’

“We didn’t hear anything about this! A guy doing housekeeping!?”

‘Ara! Did I forget to mention? My bad, my bad!’

What the… A moving illustration on a screen is arguing with a real person…

“Might as well introduce ourselves, huh?”

While I’m still dumbfounded, the petite girl spins around in front of me, flashing a dazzling smile.

“Kichijoji family’s charm specialist! The genius voice actress on the verge of a breakout! I’m Chinana, the youngest sister of the four! ☆”

She passes the baton to the long-banged girl next to her.

“…Third sister, Meru. Hobby: gaming. Job: also gaming.”

The gloomy voice of Meru trails off as she passes the (imaginary) mic to Kichijoji Ranka.

“…”

But Ranka ignores it, so the petite girl who introduced herself as the youngest sister points a mic-like hand toward the monitor.

‘Ahem! Main gig: illustrator. Side hustle: VTuber. Hobby: being a high school girl. I’m Kuriki Hisoka—er, I mean, Kikuri, the eldest sister! Nice to meetcha!’

Chinana chimes in with a quick addendum. “Just to clarify, Kiku-nee is our family’s ultimate shut-in. She barely ever leaves her room, so this is how she rolls.”

‘Pretty cute, right?’

The illustration’s head sways side to side. I can’t help but mutter, “The picture’s moving…”

‘Wait, that’s what you’re stuck on?’

“Not knowing about Live2D these days? You’re a rare one, Thief-san,” Chinana quips.

This is her sister? What kind of world does this house live in?

“Hold up. Why’re you all just cool with this?” Ranka snaps, her perfectly shaped brows shooting up.

I let out a relieved breath. “Yeah, exactly. A moving illustration as a sister? That’s just we—”

“That’s not what I meant!”

That’s not what she meant!?

Ranka jabs a finger at my face. “A guy like this coming in and out of our house? No way! Absolutely not! What if this blows up online!?”

She glares daggers at me.

“And this guy? At school, he’s always got his nose in a book, doesn’t even have a single friend to talk to! No way he can handle housework!”

I bristle, glaring back. “Your logic doesn’t even connect. That’s just prejudice.”

“The world runs on prejudice. Didn’t they teach you that in your precious textbooks? Besides, we don’t need a housekeeper!”

“Oh, really?” I gesture at the disaster of a living room. “You’re saying that with this mess staring you in the face?”

Ranka falters, “Ugh…” as she observes the living room, littered with spilled cardboard boxes. Clothes are haphazardly stuffed into random boxes, and the floor is a warzone of convenience store plastic bags, dirty dishes, more plastic bags, empty packaging, and—yep—more plastic bags. The only clean spot is a suspiciously tidy corner where the cat was earlier, probably her filming area for those videos.

I stand up and declare, “Go somewhere else for an hour. I’ll show you whether this house needs a housekeeper or not.”

One hour later.

The four sisters stand frozen, staring at the transformed living room, utterly floored.

“The carpet’s… visible!” Chinana gasps.

“…It’s not dusty anymore…” Meru mumbles.

‘The floor’s practically sparkling!’ Kikuri’s avatar chirps.

“I can actually find stuff…” Chinana adds.

I set a bowl of miso soup on the table. “The stuff in your fridge was about to go bad, so I whipped up some food too.”

“Whoa!” Meru and Chinana zip to the table, grabbing chopsticks without even a “thanks for the meal.” One bite, and they’re exclaiming, “Delicious!” “So good…” as they devour it.

“This is what a normal human life looks like,” I say, smirking at Ranka, who’s still rooted at the living room’s entrance.

“I’ve been doing housework since I was in elementary school. And between cooking and cleaning gigs, I’ve had plenty of practice. For a nerd, I’d say I’m pretty damn good.”

“Hired! You’re hired!” Chinana cheers.

“A life where food just appears… It’s what I’ve always dreamed of…” Meru sighs.

Ranka, head down, shuffles across the living room and takes a single sip of the miso soup. Then she starts trembling—before slamming the bowl onto the table.

“Fired!”

What!?

“Why!? I did the job perfectly—”

“No way! Absolutely not! Get out—now!”

And just like that, I’m forcibly kicked out of the apartment, jobless. I’ve had a lot of gigs, but this one’s gotta be the record for shortest-lived.

“Hmm. So that’s what happened, huh.”

Matsuba Mitsuba summed up my freshly baked tale of woe with a single carefree remark.

We were at the counter seats by the window in the school cafeteria. Beyond the glass in front of us stretched the courtyard, where tons of students were spending their break time however they pleased.

Mitsuba always shows up out of nowhere during lunch break, plops down in this seat, and gazes out at the girls gathered in the courtyard with a goofy, happy grin. She even starts critiquing their uniform styles one by one—a habit that’s one step shy of full-on pervert territory and practically her life’s work.

Oh, and by the way, Mitsuba’s a girl.

Well, maybe she’s just wearing a girls’ uniform, or maybe she’s got some padding in her chest—who knows? But to my eyes, at least, my friend looked like a woman.

“Can’t you show a little more interest? Your one and only friend is in some rare, world-class misery here!”

“What a parade of self-proclaimed titles. But Kunshi-kun—”

Mitsuba called me by a weird nickname, apparently a mash-up of the first parts of my surname, Kiminaga, and my given name, Shikimi.

“—if you ask me, your situation ain’t pitiable. It’s downright enviable, plain and simple.”

“Enviable? This mess where I’m teetering on the edge of expulsion?”

“Exactly. For being the top brain in our grade, you sure don’t know jack about this school.”

“Listen up,” she said, wagging a finger as she launched into a lecture.

“First, Kichijoji Ranka. Known far and wide as ‘Japan’s most famous high school girl.’ A mega-popular video streamer with over a million followers on SNS. She’s got more influence than your average celebrity—an absolute powerhouse of an influencer.”

Come to think of it, she did say something like that herself.

I don’t mess with SNS, so I don’t really get how impressive a million followers is.

“Next, Kichijoji Meru. If you play FPS games, you know her. She joined the pro gaming team AlphaPlanet at the ripe age of fifteen. Ain’t an exaggeration to call her the most watched female pro gamer in the world. A middle school genius and a treasure for the future of e-sports.”

A pro gamer, huh. I know they exist, but I don’t know much about what they actually do. Still, how does she rattle all this off so smoothly? Has she been practicing?

“And then there’s Kichijoji Chinana. She hasn’t landed a lead role yet, but her acting is so refined for her age it’s got the industry shook. A super-promising young voice actress at fourteen. She’s aces at acting, singing, and even talking—a total all-rounder. Plus, she’s a drop-dead gorgeous girl with zero flaws. She’s too safe a bet for a rising star—a guaranteed celebrity.”

Voice actress, huh. Sounds like they get roped into idol-like stuff these days. Must be tough.

“That’s our school’s pride and joy—the cream of the crop, the so-called Tier 1 Shimai.”

T/N: (The term "Shimai" (姉妹) in Japanese means "sisters" or "siblings" (specifically female siblings))

Tier 1? If I recall, “tier” means something like “level” or “rank.” So Tier 1 means the top rank, right?

Then it hit me.

“What about the other one?”

“Hm?”

“The Kichijoji family has four sisters. There’s gotta be one more—the eldest.”

“Oh… you mean Kichijoji Kikuri-san. She’s supposed to be a second-year now, but she barely shows up at school. Even her classmates probably haven’t seen her out of character.”

“She’s gotta be held back by now…”

“Probably her mom’s influence. But between her VTuber gigs and her illustrator work, she’s probably raking in enough cash to make corporate bigwigs run barefoot in shame. She might not even need school—or a job, for that matter.”

The cream of the crop, huh. Guess there really are winners out there in the world.

Life ain’t fair.

But that’s exactly why comparing yourself to others is pointless. I just gotta do what I can.

“Anyway, Kunshi-kun, what I’m saying is, getting close to those goddess-level girls all at once? That’s the kind of luck you can’t complain about, even if someone stabbed you for it.”

“I’d complain plenty if I got stabbed.”

“I wouldn’t. High-spec middle and high school girls? The best!”

I dodged it a bit earlier, but this girl’s definitely a girl. If she wasn’t, she’d have been locked up ages ago.

“Jokes aside,” she went on.

“Joking, huh? Then why’s your face red as a tomato?”

“If you’re dead set on avoiding getting canned, you gotta try getting closer to them. I just gave you the intel for it, didn’t I?”

…All that long-winded lecturing was for that?

“Get closer, you say…”

“You’re a bit too stuck on yourself. Your sense of right ain’t always right for others. ‘A gentleman harmonizes but does not conform’—ring any bells?”

She’s got a point. True harmony, not just going along, is what makes a real Kunshi.

“Fine, I’ll try something. Expulsion’s on the line, after all.”

“If it comes down to it, I’ll hire you myself. By the way, the uniform’s a sailor suit.”

“You’ll take anything, won’t you?”

I parted ways with Mitsuba and headed back to my classroom. Right now, the biggest obstacle to this job is the second sister, Ranka. And conveniently, she’s in my class—the easiest of the four sisters to approach.

First, I’d greet her with a friendly smile, ease her guard—

“Hey, Kichijoji—”

“…Tch.”

She shot me a look like I was filth.

Then came the tongue click.

And to top it off, the classmates around us started snickering.

…I get it. Me and her? We’re complete opposites. Getting close seems damn near impossible.

But I can’t give up.

After school, I headed back to the Daikanyama apartment.

I was ready for a flat-out rejection at the door, but coming straight from school must’ve worked in my favor. Kichijoji Ranka wasn’t there, and instead, the youngest, Chinana, greeted me.

“Welcome back~♪ …Wait, no, that’s not right. —Welcome back, Onii-chan!”

“Calling a total stranger Onii-chan? You must have some deep inner darkness. Wanna talk it out?”

“Don’t turn me into a pitiful kid in two seconds flat! It’s acting, just acting!”

“Acting?”

Kichijoji Chinana flashed a dazzling smile and threw up a sideways peace sign.

“Gotta admit, a female voice actress has to make the guys’ hearts skip a beat, right? So, which one hit you harder?”

“For now, getting called Onii-chan by a girl I barely know just makes me nervous. You might wanna cool it with that.”

“Hmm… you’re probably right, but you’re a bit too realistic, Butler-san.”

“Butler-san…? No way you’re talking about me, right?”

“You’re here to do housework, aren’t you? That makes you Butler-san!”

“No clue what you’re expecting, but it ain’t that fancy.”

“Then maybe I’ll stick with the safe bet—‘Senpai’! Seeeenpai~♪”

She called out with the kind of playful tone a clingy junior might use after club activities.

I’ve barely touched club activities in my life, and yet here I am, roped into imagining a whole scenario. Is this the acting prowess of a guaranteed star?

Chinana let me into the apartment without a fuss. Seems like she doesn’t have any bad feelings toward me, at least.

“If everyone was as easygoing as you, my life would be a lot simpler…”

“Now, now, don’t make such a sour face. Since my grumpy sisters aren’t around, Chinana-chan will keep you company. …Oh, but don’t go falling for me, okay? Unless you want to get taken out by my voice-actor fans!”

This kid’s got her own quirks, doesn’t she?

“Let’s get to work before the second sister gets back. Anything you need done?”

“Oh, perfect timing! We’ve got a ton of laundry piled up.”

“Piled up like those cardboard boxes full of clothes, huh…”

“Nope, those are all unworn. Think of it as a clothing TBR—‘to be worn’ stack.”

“Why buy clothes you don’t even wear?”

“When something’s cute, you just have to buy it, right?”

I don’t get it. Is this how rich people think?

We headed upstairs from the living room to the laundry room, where I was met with a sight that made my eyes bug out.

Eight laundry baskets, all overflowing.

I couldn’t even guess how many clothes were in there. How lazy do you have to be to let it pile up this bad? Wait, don’t they ever run out of stuff to wear? Oh, right—the clothing TBR.

“The washing machine’s in the utility room on the first floor. Know how to use it?”

“…More or less.”

I had no clue what kind of washing machine a penthouse apartment would have, but there’s no way it could handle all this in one go. I’d be running it nonstop, swapping loads like a maniac. And then I’d have to fold everything afterward… How long is this gonna take?

“Well, good luck~”

With that carefree send-off, Chinana sauntered out of the laundry room.

…No choice. It’s the job. Gotta grit my teeth and get through it.

I started by hauling the mountain of laundry down to the utility room next to the kitchen. It was decked out with a washing machine, drying rack, iron, sewing machine—the whole domestic works. But why the hell is it so far from the laundry room? Talk about inconvenience.

Once that was done, I roughly sorted the clothes by material. Polyester gets one treatment, wool another, you know the drill.

As I chipped away at the clothing mountain, something stringy caught on my hand.

I pulled it out.

A bra.

A massive one, like it could double as a face mask.

Heh heh heh. I could’ve sworn I heard a faint giggle behind me.

“(Meru-nee’s middle-school-defying, stupidly huge F-cup bra… No high school boy could stay calm facing that! Come on, show me that raw, priceless reaction!)”

“…”

I tossed the bra into a laundry net without a word.

“Wha—?!”

Chinana, who’d apparently snuck back in, gaped at me, looking a little thrown off.

“No reaction at all…? You’re one tough cookie, Senpai…”

“I’ve got a little sister.”

A bra’s not gonna faze me at this point.

“Were you hoping I’d act out of line? Maybe catch me slipping so you could kick me out?”

“No way, nothing like that! It’s just, when do I ever get a chance to observe a guy this up close? I’m not about to pass up such a juicy opportunity!”

“Juicy opportunity?”

I glanced back while sorting, and there was Chinana at the utility room’s entrance, looking oddly embarrassed.

“See, Chinana-chan’s the type who acts better with real-world research. I play boy roles a lot, so I’ve been wanting to study how guys actually talk and act.”

“…Your classmates are not good enough? I hate to say it, but your sister’s got a point. Most people wouldn’t let a guy your age into their house for a reason like that.”

“Of course, that’s not the only reason!”

Chinana crouched down in front of me as I worked on the floor, propping her chin in her hands and flashing a teasing smile.

“I’ve always wanted an older brother.”

Then, in a sugary, anime-girl voice, the future star cooed, “Thought you’d be just perfect for the role, Shikimi-oniichan♪”

“…Like I said, I’ve got a little sister.”

By the time I’d run the washing machine three times since noon, the end was finally in sight. That’s when someone new appeared, letting out a massive yawn.

“Fwaa… Morning.”

“Oh, morn—Morning?”

I wasn’t shocked because the girl—the third sister, Kichijoji Meru—suddenly popped into the utility room, or because she was wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt, shamelessly flashing her thighs.

What time is it?

I checked my phone. Just past 5:30 p.m.

5:30 p.m…

“Did you… just wake up?”

I asked Meru as she poured water from the kitchen’s water server into a glass. She gulped it down, turned to me, and answered coolly after emptying the glass.

“Yup.”

“…What about school?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

Plenty, I’d say.

From what Mitsuba said, all four sisters should be in the middle or high school divisions of our school… but Chinana was just chilling at home, too. Maybe the middle school’s already on spring break? Today was mostly test returns for me, so classes were short.

Still, waking up at this hour? That’s straight-up vampire hours.

As I reeled from the culture shock, Chinana poked her head in from the living room.

“Oh, Meru-nee. Morning!”

“Mownin..’.”

Meru replied with a toothbrush in her mouth. Apparently, the third sister waking up at this hour is just another day in this house. …Kinda gross to brush your teeth at the sink, though.

“You eating today?” Chinana asked.

“Nah… got a practice match soon. I’ll just have some bread.”

“Got it.”

“Bread? Hold up, you’re gonna call it a meal with some snack bread? I can whip up something quick if—”

Meru spat out her rinse and cut me off.

“It’s fine. It’s healthy bread.”

She dragged a cardboard box out from under the sink and flipped it open.

Then she held up an orange bag for me to see.

That, apparently, was the “healthy bread”—the nutrition facts on the back showed a balanced mix of nutrients.

“It’s one of those complete-nutrition foods,” Chinana chimed in.

“Meru-nee eats this stuff for like half her meals.”

“Normal food’s only when I feel like it. Otherwise, this saves time. Big win.”

Meru tore open the orange bag, pulled out a rectangular piece of bread, and started munching like a hamster gnawing on seeds. Better than living off instant ramen, I guess… but this was so far from my world I couldn’t just nod and accept it.

“Oh, right!” Chinana clapped her hands suddenly.

“Forget cooking—let’s have him clean! Meru-nee’s room. Isn’t it getting pretty bad?”

“Wha…? It’s still fine—”

“No way it’s fine! It’s getting warm out, and bugs’ll start showing up. Gotta clean it now!”

…This is taking a bad turn. If Chinana, who let that disaster of a living room slide, is calling Meru’s room “bad,” what kind of nightmare am I walking into?

“Come on, Senpai, you gotta see it! It’s seriously bad!”

Chinana pushed me from behind, herding me up the living room stairs. When we reached a door at the far right of the second floor, she eased up. This must be Meru’s room.

She kept saying “bad, bad,” but yesterday’s living room was already a mess. That was for three (or maybe four) people. A single person’s private room should be better by comparison, right?

I braced myself and opened the door.

Took one step inside.

And promptly stepped on a plastic bottle.

“Whoa!?”

My foot slipped forward, nearly sending me tumbling backward, but Chinana caught me just in time from behind.

Beyond the door lay pure chaos.

One step past the threshold, I was greeted by a mess of delivery boxes, an empty mouse carton, discarded clothes, and more delivery boxes scattered everywhere. I couldn’t even figure out a path to navigate into the room.

The area around the bed was even worse. No surprise, clothes were strewn everywhere, but bras and panties were carelessly piled up too, like they were being used as a blanket. At a glance, I couldn’t even tell which side the pillow was on.

And the absolute worst was the desk area. Three monitors lined up, a keyboard glowing in rainbow colors, a giant mouse pad with a mouse, and a big stand mic—it could’ve been impressive, the setup of a promising pro gamer.

If it weren’t for the half-drunk plastic bottles, empty energy drink cans, and even instant ramen containers stacked high beside it all.

An unreset room.

This was what happens when you let the traces of daily life pile up without ever hitting the reset button. This room was Kichijoji Meru’s life, condensed into a single space.

“It’s not that messy,” Meru said, hopping from spot to spot like she was crossing stepping stones to avoid the trash as she entered her room.

“I threw out some garbage yesterday. It’s clean today.”

“Clean where!?”

Snapping out of the biggest culture shock of my life, I shouted.

“This is a human living space!? A jungle’s got more order than this!”

“Jungles don’t have PCs,” she shot back.

“That’s not the point…!”

What’s that overflowing trash bag by the desk? PC peripherals? No way…!

“Well, I’ll leave it to you!”

Chinana snapped a quick salute from behind and darted into the next room—her room, apparently.

This is bad.

No wonder they hired a housekeeper. This is the kind of mess that needs a professional crew.

“Forget the laundry. We’re cleaning this before you catch some disease and die! Got it!?”

“Ugh… fine, whatever. Just don’t touch the keyboard or mouse.”

Why am I the one sounding like the unreasonable one!?

And so, I got to work on the great cleanup of Kichijoji Meru’s room.

But five seconds in, I hit a snag.

Out of nowhere, Meru said, “Here we go,” and yanked up her oversized T-shirt.

“Eek!?”

I let out a yelp.

Tossing the baggy T-shirt onto the bed, Meru stood there in just a bra and panties. “Umm…” she mumbled, getting down on all fours to rummage through the pile of discarded clothes.

“What the hell are you doing!? I don’t care if I have a sister—there’s a limit!”

“What?”

Meru pulled out a shirt, pants, and a hoodie from the pile, then turned to face me, still in her underwear.

Her body, hidden under that baggy shirt, had curves that didn’t seem possible for someone younger than me. No way I could treat her like my little sister. Especially her chest—it was way beyond middle-school territory. The soft arcs jutted out so far she probably couldn’t see her own feet. If she sat at her desk, they’d probably hit the keyboard.

“Cover up a bit! Aren’t you embarrassed!?”

“Nah. It’s not like my nipples are showing.”

Meru starts putting on the shirt she dragged out, fumbling a bit.

“You're here for work, right? If so, just brush this off like it's no big deal.”

“Ignore!? This is a whole different ballgame from washing underwear!”

“Why? Everyone else walks around like this after a bath. Isn’t that just part of doing housework here?”

From behind her long bangs, Meru gave me a testing look.

“Or what, are you looking at us like that? ‘Cause if you are, I’d rather you quit right now.”

“…Ugh…”

It didn’t sit right with me, but she had a point. Bringing those kinds of feelings into this job was a no-go. They wouldn’t be able to live comfortably otherwise.

A doctor doesn’t get worked up during an exam—so I’ve gotta forget I’m a guy while I’m on the clock.

“—Fine, whatever! Just think of me as a Roomba or something!”

“Roombas are a bit cuter, though.”

Isn’t this workplace harassment?

Mulling over the state of modern Japan’s labor conditions, I got to cleaning.

First, I flattened every empty delivery box I could find and hauled them outside. That cleared some space, so I folded clothes, sorted them, tossed trash into bags, and vacuumed the exposed floor.

All the while, Meru sat at her PC, headset on, gaming. Every now and then, she’d mutter sharply into the mic: “Moving.” “Shield’s down.” “Follow me.”

To an outsider, it might just look like playing games… but there’s a certain intensity to someone who’s serious about it. Her back radiated that vibe.

No wonder she went pro at a middle-school age. Though, it’s March now—I heard she’s a year below me, so she’ll be a high schooler come April. …Or, wait, could she be dropping out?

After about an hour of silent cleaning, the room was finally somewhat presentable. Meru let out a deep breath and took off her headset.

Seizing the moment, I spoke up.

“It’s looking a bit better now.”

“Hm? …Whoa.”

She turned around, still seated, and her mouth dropped open at the sight of the reclaimed floor.

“Fast. Cleaning speedrun.”

“It’s nowhere near done. We’d need to throw out way more to finish. Why do you have so many mice, anyway?”

“Trying out different ones. Might use ‘em someday, so don’t toss ‘em.”

“You’re not gonna use them…”

Classic hoarder logic.

As I neatly stacked some textbooks lying on the floor, I continued, “Middle school textbooks, right? You’re graduating soon, so you don’t need these anymore?”

“Yeah. Toss ‘em.”

“They look brand new, though… So, you’re moving on to high school, right?”

“…Why?”

“Just thinking, next month you’ll be my kouhai.”

Our school’s a combined middle-high. I heard Meru and Chinana are both in the middle school division.

Meru swiveled back to her monitor and muttered, “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“I told ‘em I don’t have time for school, but somehow I got enrolled anyway.”

Enrolled without noticing? Guess that’s what happens when your mom’s the school director.

Looking down at the barely touched textbooks, a thought hit me.

“You… don’t go to school, do you?”

“…That's a problem?”

She sounded a bit annoyed as she gripped the mouse with her right hand and started clacking away at the keyboard with her left.

“Obligatory education’s just a formality. You graduate either way, so what’s the point?”

“Not trying to judge your life, but don’t you think it’s a waste? You only get to go to school now.”

“Ran-nee said you’re all about studying and don’t have any friends. Sounds like you’re not exactly living it up either.”

“…”

Ouch. That was a stronger counter than I expected. For me, studying is the point of school…

“Besides, gaming’s a now-or-never thing too.”

“…Huh?”

“You don’t know? Tons of FPS pro gamers retire in their early twenties.”

“…Is an athlete’s career really that short? It’s practically like being a female idol.”

“There’s less than ten years left. Maybe my peak is right now… When I think about it like that, I can’t afford to waste time at school.”

Hearing those words, spoken with such urgency, it was like the resolution of this grimy room sharpened just a bit.

Skipping the hassle of meals with complete nutrition packs, not bothering with anything resembling cleaning… It’s as if she’s stripped away every ounce of energy that isn’t dedicated to gaming.

I don’t necessarily think that’s a good thing, but earlier, she questioned my sense of professionalism. If that same mindset applies to her, then that’s—

“—I respect you.”

“Huh?”

At my words, the pro gamer whipped around, her face a mask of surprise.

“You’re filling your life with your own strength, aren’t you?”

I don’t have any standout talents.

So all I can do is throw myself into studying or picking up part-time jobs.

The noble person harmonizes but does not conform; the small person conforms but does not harmonize—I respect someone like her, a kunshi, who fights with her own power without bending to others.

Meru’s mouth hung open for a moment.

Then, with a quick flick, she averted her eyes and turned back to her monitor.

“…You finished cleaning?”

“Huh? Oh… mostly, yeah.”

“Then get out. I’ve got a practice match coming up.”

Alright, alright.

Guess even time for conversation is too precious. I shrugged and headed for the door—

“Thanks… for cleaning.”

—I heard those words on my back.

When I glanced over my shoulder, she was already wearing her headphones. Watching her back, I let a small smile tug at my lips before finally opening the door.

Seems like the time it took to say thanks wasn’t a waste after all.

‘My, aren’t you diligent. Or perhaps just a perv?’

As I was prepping dinner in the system kitchen on the first floor, the living room wall monitor flicked on, revealing an illustration of a blonde high school girl.

“Yo, picture.”

‘That’s a discriminatory term, y’know. Coming from a mere protein-based lifeform like you.’

Was it now? I’ll watch my words from here on out.

“I’m diligent. And a gentleman.”

‘Hmph. Bet you don’t even have a girlfriend, huh, buddy?’

My cheek twitched.

“Why’s that the conclusion?”

‘You’re the type who’d say something like, “Girlfriends are just a waste of time,” without ever having had one, right?’

“Why do you keep going there?!”

The eldest sister, Kichijoji Kikuri, let out a kukuku laugh, like some cartoonish villain.

‘Well, a self-conscious guy like you might actually be a good match for Ranka. She’s pretty damn self-conscious herself, after all.’

“Anyone who’s a streamer is probably like that.”

‘Sure, but in her case, there’s a hefty dose of man-hating mixed in, y’know?’

“Man-hating? Even though she’s a streamer?”

At my words, Kikuri let out a deep, exaggerated sigh, so pronounced even her Live2D model made it obvious.

‘You’ve got this vibe like you’re mistaking streamers for some kinda secret-account party girl or something.’

“Not that far, but… in terms of being swallowed by the void of validation, it’s kinda the same deal, right?”

‘That’s where we differ, pal.’

“Then enlighten me, VTuber. Why do you lot dance some incomprehensible routine in the school hallway or post your own songs when you’re not even a singer?”

‘Very well then. It’s to set ourselves apart from others!’

Her answer came quickly, loaded with meaning, and it threw me off balance.

‘Self-expression, validation, call it what you want—but at its core, this kind of creative stuff is a way to establish your existence. In a world drowning in information, it’s how you keep from sinking.’

“…You’re an illustrator by trade, right? Is that why you draw?”

‘I mean, the world’s overflowing with all sorts of stuff, yet it’s still so damn boring. Gotta kill time somehow, don’tcha think?’

I was supposed to be good at reading comprehension, but her way of talking felt a little… offbeat. It didn’t fully click—but somehow, it felt like she was saying something profound.

“Too many options, so you don’t know what you should do… something like that?”

‘Yeah, sorta like that. I mean, back in the Jomon era, people just made pottery and called it a day, right?’

“I’m pretty sure the Jomon folks weren’t just churning out pots nonstop—but either way, I don’t totally get it. Isn’t it just about wanting attention in the end?”

‘Maybe. But even so, isn’t it pretty great to have something you wanna do, Study-Boy?’

…Ouch. That hit a nerve.

‘Think about what Ranka really needs. Thinking’s your strong suit, isn’t it?’

What she needs, huh…

What goes on in a streamer’s head—let alone someone living in this bizarre world of voice actors, pro gamers, and illustrators—I can’t even begin to imagine—

Wait.

“Hold up, you’re all freelancers, right?”

Just then, as if on cue, Chinana and Meru came clattering down the stairs.

I glanced at the desk calendar and turned to them.

“March is almost halfway done. Are you all done with your taxes?”

‘““…””’

Time seemed to freeze for a moment, and all three sisters simultaneously averted their eyes.

Let me explain.

Tax filing is that thing you do to avoid committing tax evasion.

◆

I got caught up taking pics for Insta while hanging out with friends, so I ended up getting home late.

I wonder if Chinana’s already eaten. The other two are always doing their own thing, so I don’t worry about them much.

“I’m home~! …Huh?”

The moment I stepped into the entryway, I noticed something off.

A pair of men’s sneakers, lined up perfectly at the heels…

—That jerk! After I told him yesterday he’s not hired, he’s back again!?

I kicked off my shoes and stomped into the living room.

“Hey! I said you’re not hired—”

Before I could finish, that guy—Kiminaga Shikimi—came barreling out of the living room.

He grabbed both my shoulders, and I froze, totally thrown off.

“W-What’s your deal…? That scary face doesn’t—”

“Hand over your receipts.”

“Huh?”

“Your payment statements too! Right now!”

His intensity hit me like a truck, and I found myself nodding like a bobblehead.

Receipts? Payment statements? …Oh, taxes?

I followed Kiminaga as he stormed back into the living room, where Meru and Chinana were huddled awkwardly in the corner. Hanasaka, the pet cat, was curled up on Meru’s lap.

“God, I can’t believe you guys! Who lets it slide this bad? The deadline’s less than a week away!”

Grumbling under his breath, Kiminaga plopped down in front of a laptop on the glass table. Around it, stacks of receipts and invoices were neatly sorted into bundles.

Chinana looked away, like she was trying to escape.

“I didn’t earn enough last year to file…”

Meru hunched even further, her back practically a perfect curve.

“I only went pro this year, so…”

Kikuri-nee, on the monitor, darted her eyes back and forth.

‘I figured I’d just toss it all to a tax accountant… but then it just kinda slipped…’

And then Kiminaga fixed me with a dead-eyed stare.

“You?”

“…Uh, well, my mom took care of it for me until last year…”

Why do I feel like I’ve done something awful? There’s still a week left!

Kiminaga turned back to the laptop screen, letting out a deep, heavy sigh.

Then he spoke.

“You’re a failure as an adult.”

Ugh! That stings…!

But why do I have to take this from him? Just because he’s got a bit of common sense, he thinks he can act all high and mighty—!

“But that’s why I’m here.”

My half-formed complaint got caught in my throat at his words.

“My job is to cover for your shortcomings so you all can focus on what you’re supposed to do.”

Kiminaga said this while typing smoothly at the keyboard.

“I’ll do my job. You do yours.”

And with that, he buried himself in the screen full of numbers, falling completely silent.

Not wanting to disturb his work, I moved to my room, where my sisters filled me in on his performance today.

“His mouth’s a bit rough, but he’s serious about his work. Didn’t even flinch at Meru-nee’s bra.”

“When I started changing, he let out this girly scream. I told him it’s normal, and he got it, though.”

‘His cooking’s legit delicious!’

What are these two idiots doing? Don’t these middle-schoolers have any sense of caution?

Anyway, the gist was that he’s got no issues with his work. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna accept him. If it’s just housekeeping, we could hire some middle-aged lady instead of a guy like him. Sure, a housekeeper probably wouldn’t handle tax filings, but we could just get a tax accountant for that.

Why the hell did Mom send a guy to the house where her daughters live?

Still stewing in frustration, I finished up some video editing I’d been working on, and before I knew it, the night had grown late.

Is he still at it…? How long does it take to do taxes for four people?

I quietly slipped into the hallway and peered down at the living room from the open landing.

There, at the table, was his back. But it was hunched over, his face planted on the table.

…Is he asleep?

I tiptoed down the stairs and peeked at his face. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing steadily, fast asleep.

He had the nerve to call us adult failures, and he’s napping?

I couldn’t help but scowl—until I noticed what was on the laptop screen.

“…My video…”

From last summer, I think… A vlog from a domestic trip.

Why’s he watching something this old? The question dissolved when I saw the receipt by his hand.

A receipt from that trip…

Was he looking for expenses? If something showed up in the video, it could count as work-related, and the more he found, the more it’d save on taxes. Was he going through my videos one by one, just to help me out…?

He’s like an actual tax accountant. This isn’t even supposed to be part of his housekeeping gig, yet he’s stayed up this late…

…Maybe I should throw a blanket over him.

No, wait, wouldn’t that be awkward if he caught me? Should I wake him up instead? But, like, Chinana and the others said he’s been working nonstop since noon…!

“…Ngh…”

While I was panicking back and forth, Kiminaga let out a small groan.

He slowly lifted himself up, rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

“Fell asleep, huh…”

Then he looked up and saw me, just standing there watching.

“You woke me up?”

I awkwardly averted my eyes.

“W-Well, yeah…”

“Thanks.”

His straightforward gratitude caught me off guard.

I thought he hated me as much as I hated him.

Our lifestyles are just too different. I can’t imagine a life without friends, but he seems perfectly fine living without goofing off. I can’t picture myself working some corporate job, but he probably thinks that’s the “right” way to live.

If it weren’t for this, I’d never have spoken to him. Heck, we were in the same class for a whole year and never said a word to each other.

Saying thanks so honestly to someone I can’t stand—there’s no way I could do that. “…You were watching my videos, right?”

Was I embarrassed? Annoyed?

Feeling some kind of way, I threw out a testy question.

“What’d you think? Pretty cute, huh?”

“No clue.”

My cheek twitched.

Kiminaga propped his chin on his hand, staring at my video.

“Dancing the exact same dance as everyone else, winking with a practiced pose, showing off some generic morning routine… There’s not a shred of entertainment value. And this makeup video—what’s the deal? The before and after are practically identical. It’s just you flexing, ‘I’m cute even without makeup,’ isn’t it?”

…I mean, I knew he’d say something like that when I asked, but did he have to tear into me that hard…?

Whatever! A tactless, socially clueless guy like him isn’t my target audience anyway!

“But this travel vlog was interesting.”

The unexpected comment made my heart skip.

“I can feel the taste in your choice of scenery. The narration’s easy to listen to. You clearly put a lot of thought into the editing. You do it yourself?”

“Y-Yeah…”

“Thought so. No receipts for outsourcing. If that’s the case… this upload frequency is impressive.”

—Stop it. Don’t let this make you feel validated.

I’ve gotten thousands, tens of thousands of likes like this. This is just one more.

I’m not gonna let something this small make me happy.

This guy’s the enemy. A guy doesn’t belong in our living space.

I tightened my lips, trying to smother the warmth in my chest with sharp words.

“Thanks for the praise. But my upload frequency might take a hit! I’ll have to reshoot every time your traces show up in the frame!”

The moment I said it, I realized it sounded like I was okay with him being here.

I scrambled to come up with another jab, but Kiminaga cut in.

“No need to tell me. I’m quitting once this is done.”

“…What?”

Kiminaga turned back to the accounting software, his face calm.

“You’re right. It’s not right for a guy my age to be doing housekeeping in a house full of girls your age. I’ll ask the chairman to let me quit.”

“But… what about school?”

He said it at the start, didn’t he? He was assigned this job as a condition for overlooking him breaking the school’s no-part-time-job rule. If he can’t do this, he might get expelled.

Kiminaga moved the mouse, letting out a small chuckle.

“I’ll just grovel or something.”

How can he… say that so lightly?

Isn’t he scared? Isn’t he pissed? His hard-earned place is at risk, and he has to throw away his pride to keep it—how can he be so calm about it?

I don’t get it.

Why am I… so frustrated?

“…Whatever. Good riddance.”

All I could manage was a half-hearted jab.

Kiminaga didn’t bother responding.

By the time the date changed, the tax filing was finally done.

Kiminaga informed us and headed straight for the door.

“Is that okay? The last train’s already gone…” Chinana said, worried.

Kiminaga shrugged it off.

“I came by bike anyway. No problem. It’d be a bigger issue if I stayed here overnight.”

“…You’re really quitting?” Meru asked quietly.

Kiminaga’s lips twisted into a wry smirk.

“You’re half the reason, y’know. Flashing your damn underwear like that. If seeing that’s part of the job, some law’s gonna have my head.”

‘Aww, I was looking forward to a life where food just magically appears!’

Kikuri-nee chirped carefree, and Kiminaga gave a sarcastic shrug.

“Next housekeeper better not let themselves in unannounced. Or your little sister’s gonna end up flashing her ass again.”

He opened the front door.

As that door slammed shut, come tomorrow, we’d go back to being nothing more than classmates who don’t give a damn about each other.

Me, the popular kid in class.

This guy, the friendless nerd who studies his ass off.

Just strangers sharing the same classroom, faces and names barely registering.

And that’s fine.

That’s how I wanted it from the start. If there’s a guy in the house, his voice might slip into my stream and start a shitstorm. Or, like what happened with Meru, I might end up showing something careless. Sure, he didn’t see anything like that today, but in a house full of nothing but gorgeous girls, who’s to say a mistake won’t happen eventually?

This is fine.

Whatever struggles this guy ends up carrying because of it—hell, just a couple days ago, he was nothing more than another faceless “like” among thousands, maybe tens of thousands.

“See ya,”

With that simple goodbye, the door slammed shut with a bang.

The entryway was empty now. Nobody stood there anymore.

“Damn, he was some good material, though,” Chinana said, her voice dripping with regret.

“No helping it. It’s true that having a guy around complicates things…” Meru said, her tone cool and measured.

'I didn’t have anything to do with it, y’know,' Kikuri-nee said, her voice so blatantly fake it was almost laughable.

And then, all three of them turned to look at me.

Kikuri-nee’s just a standing sprite, so maybe I only thought she was looking.

“…Ugh, what’s that supposed to mean?! Stop acting like I’m some stick-in-the-mud!” I snapped.

“Let’s be real, your head’s kinda rigid, ain’t it?” Chinana shot back.

“And you get all hysterical when you’re pissed,” Meru added.

“I’m just saying what needs to be said because your sense of chastity is totally screwed up! Besides, that guy’s gotta be better off quitting a job that ignores labor laws and makes him work this late, right?!”

“Hmm… but speaking of that, why’s Kiminaga-senpai even working a part-time job in the first place?” Chinana tilted her head like a curious bird, tossing out the question.

I tilted my head too, puzzled.

“Money, obviously. For his phone bill or something…” I said.

“Apparently, he doesn’t even have a smartphone. I asked him at lunch,” Chinana replied.

“Huh?” I blinked.

In this day and age? A high schooler?

“Said he handles the bare minimum with some half-dead flip phone. That’s what he told me when I asked for his contact info.”

“Then why the hell does he need money? He didn’t seem like the type to play games either…” Meru tilted her head now too, and my suspicions only grew.

Money for hanging out with friends? That guy? That’s the last thing he’d need. So why’s he breaking school rules to work…?

'Well, duh, to help his family, right?' Kikuri-nee said casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

All three of us sisters, heads still tilted, turned to stare at the monitor displaying Kikuri-nee.

“Kikuri-nee… you know about him?” I asked.

'What? Didn’t I mention? Kiminaga-kun grew up in a children’s home, got taken in by a family running a small business, but their company tanked when he was in middle school. Now he’s dirt poor, working part-time to help with the family finances while aiming for a national university with free tuition—y’know, that whole deal.'

“I didn’t hear a damn thing about that!” I shouted.

'Oh… whoops. That’s why you were so harsh on him, huh? Sorry ‘bout that. I was just thinking, “Man, how can you be so hard on a struggling kid trying his best?”'

“It’s all your fault, you know!” I yelled.

Why the hell is our eldest sister so bad at communicating?!

But thinking back, something clicked. Kiminaga started getting known as a straight-A student around the end of our first year in middle school. If his family’s company went under around then, and he started studying like crazy to qualify for a tuition waiver as a top student, it all made sense.

“I see…” Meru murmured, staring at the closed front door.

“That guy… he’s just like us, isn’t he?”

Her words jogged my memory.

Even though he said he didn’t get it, he still acknowledged the effort I put into my videos.

“Living and struggling is just normal. Hardly anyone’s not fighting to survive. Still, this shitty, unfair reality, this infuriating life—we’re all trying to make it our own, with our own strength.”

In that one regard, we were the same.

“…Haa…” I let out a single sigh.

Then I slipped my feet into comfy sneakers at the entryway.

“The spare room’s… kinda messy, so get the futon ready. And reheat the bath,” I said.

“Got it!” Chinana gave a sharp salute, and Meru nodded quietly.

And then I opened the door.

To make sure we’d have someone to cook tomorrow’s dinner.

◆

I don’t have many memories of cursing my fate.

To begin with, I was a kid in a children’s home. The Kiminaga family, looking for an heir to their company, came and found me. They took me in.

So even when their company went bankrupt just two years later, leaving us dirt poor, stripping away my purpose as their heir and turning me into just another mouth to feed—I never thought of it as misfortune. All I felt was gratitude for being taken in.

But still.

I knew I had to do something. I had to make things work—on my own.

I don’t rely on others.

That belief, forged by watching that man as a cautionary tale, was something I swore to uphold.

This time was no different. Getting caught working was my screw-up. I couldn’t let that burden fall on those four sisters.

I’d beg the principal, grovel if I had to, to get an exception to keep my job. Or I’d transfer to a high school that doesn’t ban part-time work.

I got into this school back when we were still well-off, starting in middle school, and it’s got advantages for university admissions. To help the Kiminaga family long-term, a college degree is a must. But if I can just get into university, the high school itself doesn’t matter. I’ll pass the entrance exams on my own strength, without relying on the school’s clout. Simple as that.

That’s all there is to it.

“—Wait!”

A sharp voice startled me, and I turned around without thinking.

For some reason, I’d been walking while pushing my bike. Maybe I thought it was safer on a dark street. Maybe I was just exhausted from work. Whatever the reason, that whim put her there.

On a Tokyo night street that never sleeps.

In the middle of a sidewalk lit up by dazzling streetlights.

A girl—Kichijoji Ranka, breathless and cheeks flushed red from the cold, stood there, as she stared straight at me.

“W-What’s up?” I asked, startled again by the look on her face.

“Did I Forget something? Nah, I’ve got my wallet and phone…”

“That’s not it!” she snapped.

She pressed a hand to her chest, steadying her breathing, then swallowed hard before finally speaking.

“It’s just… I mean…”

“What? Spit it out already. If you’ve got something to say, just say it straight.”

“Ugh, fine! I’m saying I’m sorry, so don’t quit!”

Her words echoed through the quiet midnight street, catching me completely off guard.

“…Huh?”

“Chinana and Meru seem to like you… and I know I went off on you too hard. But I’m still pissed about you seeing my panties! That was Kikuri-nee’s fault, but you still owe me an apology!”

“S-Sorry…” I mumbled, overwhelmed by her intensity.

What the hell? Why the sudden change of heart?

“I’m… sorry too,” she said.

Kichijoji bowed deeply, then quickly straightened up.

“I thought there was no way you’d get what our lives are like… We’re all just a bunch of misfits who can’t ride society’s rails, living selfishly in our own way… Even Mama said, ‘Live however you want,’ and she barely ever comes home… And none of us even think that’s weird…”

…I’d always felt something was off.

That house was overflowing with traces of the four sisters’ lives, but there wasn’t a single hint of the principal—the supposed head of the household. So, that’s because the principal doesn’t actually live there, huh?

“But when I heard you’re struggling with your own family stuff, trying to make it work on your own without relying on adults—ugh! Anyway!”

Maybe she got embarrassed, because Kichijoji’s words came out all jumbled and rough.

“We’re different breeds, you and me, and that ain’t changing anytime soon! I don’t like you, and I bet you don’t like me either! But—”

Her eyes, blazing with a fierce spark, locked onto mine.

“You’re useful to us, and we… at least in this situation, we can be useful to you. Not leaning on each other, not bending to fit. We can work together, each for our own sake—so…”

…Work together…

Not leaning, not conforming.

“Rely on us, alright? You’re in a bind, aren’t you?”

With a dependable grin, Kichijoji Ranka declared it.

“I’m sick of delivering food anyway.”

—A gentleman harmonizes without conforming; a small man conforms without harmonizing.

A truly wise person… doesn’t lean on others but cooperates with them, huh?

With a twinge of frustration, I flashed a wry smile.

“Might catch you changing or something,” I teased.

“I’ll be careful. You better be too,” she shot back.

“Your streams might pick up my voice.”

“That’d be a huge problem. But, well, that’d be your screw-up too, so—”

The most famous high school girl in Japan smiled, more captivating than any video she’d ever made.

“—if it blows up, you’ll take responsibility, right?”

I let out a small chuckle, like a sigh, then turned on my heel and started walking in the opposite direction of the house.

“If a bow and a shaved head will cover it, I’ll do it as many times as it takes.”

And so, after spending the night at the Kichijoji house, I left their front door early in the morning.

“Thanks for the hospitality. Kinda ironic, since I was supposed to be the one helping you.”

“No big deal. You got stuck late because of the work we asked you to do,” Kichijoji said, dutifully seeing me off at the apartment building’s entrance. Then, as if remembering something, she said, “Oh, right,” and pulled her smartphone out of her pocket.

“Give me your contact info. LINE, Instagram, whatever. Isn’t it inconvenient otherwise?”

“I don’t do social media,” I said.

“Huh? …Not even LINE?”

“I’ve got a phone, though.”

I pulled out the trusty flip phone I’d been using since middle school.

Kichijoji’s eyes went wide when she saw it.

“Oh… right. Chinana mentioned you use a flip phone…”

“It’s pretty handy, y’know. This bad boy’s got email functionality!” I said proudly.

“Nobody uses that anymore!” she retorted.

No way…! I send picture messages (dead term: “photo emails”) back and forth with my little sister every day like we’re email buddies (dead term: “pen pals via email”)!

Kichijoji let out a sigh, like she was utterly exasperated.

“Fine, whatever… I’ll buy you a smartphone next time.”

“No, I can’t let you go that far—besides, smartphones amplify people’s need for validation. They’re a tool humanity’s not ready for—”

“It’s us who’re inconvenienced! Just take it as work equipment. For now, give me your number and email.”

“…Alright.”

If it’s for work, I can’t argue. I recited my number and email to Kichijoji. Guess it’s finally time to say goodbye to this phone… Lately, it’s been taking five seconds to respond to a single button press, so I knew this day was coming.

Kichijoji grudgingly typed my contact info into her smartphone, then glared at the screen with a look like she was staring at something suspicious.

“Email… doesn’t even show if it’s been read?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“This caveman… Anyway, reply to my messages right away! Ignore me, and you’re dead!”

“Huh? That’s a given,” I said.

“…What?”

For some reason, she looked shocked, her eyes wide again. I continued.

“If someone ignored their boss’s messages, I’d be the one ready to kill them.”

Reporting, communicating, and consulting—it’s basic for anyone who works, not just salarymen. Doesn’t she know that?

“W-Well… normally, people would find that annoying…”

Kichijoji’s eyes darted around nervously, and she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, half-hiding her face. Maybe it was the morning sun, but her cheeks looked a little flushed.

Then she abruptly turned away and muttered under her breath.

“…Gross.”

“What’d you say?!” I snapped.

That’s workplace harassment, even if she’s my boss!

Just as I was about to make a perfectly reasonable protest as a worker, Kichijoji slapped her cheeks with both hands, like she was crushing her own expression.

“Don’t get the wrong idea over some stupid work messages! Just don’t act all high and mighty when you reply instantly at least three times a day, okay?!”

“You’re gonna contact me that much?”

“For now! I’ll let the others know too! See ya!”

Kichijoji spun around and jogged off.

Or so I thought—she stopped after about five meters, turned back with a slightly annoyed look, and said in a faintly embarrassed voice:

“…Let’s get along from now on.”

I don’t really get her… She’s so high-energy.

But I’ll give her points for being polite.

“Yeah, same here,” I replied.

Kichijoji gave a little huff, turned back around, and disappeared into the elevator. I stepped out of the apartment building.

Walking through the crisp morning air of Daikanyama, I headed toward my home in Ebisu. It’s still a fresh route for now, but I’ll get used to it eventually. Doing housework for a group of beautiful sisters from my school is a weird gig, but it’s not so different from my other part-time jobs—

As I was thinking that, about twenty minutes into my walk, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Already a message from Kichijoji?

I pulled out my phone and opened it—and there it was.

“…What…?”

A short message and a single photo.

The photo looked like it was taken of a printed picture. It was dim and hard to make out, but I could just tell it was a photo placed on a white table.

The problem was what was in the picture.

Four kids.

Probably around middle elementary school age. Young kids standing side by side, smiling.

I recognized them.

On the far left was Chinana.

On the far right was Meru.

In the middle, to the right, was Ranka.

And in the middle, to the left—

“…Me…?”

It was me.

I still have photos from my time at the children’s home. No mistake.

A picture of me as an elementary school kid, standing with the Kichijoji sisters—