Rina's unnerving calm finally breaks. Not in an explosion of rage, but in a calculated escalation of her psychological warfare campaign. Operation: Perfect Little Sister enters Phase Two: Weaponized Domesticity and Guilt Induction.
She knows about the sleepover. Maybe not the details, but she knows I spent the night somewhere else, and her prime suspect is Aiwa. Since direct confrontation failed (and possibly because Miki advised against property damage), she opts for a more insidious approach: making my home life so aggressively pleasant, so suffocatingly perfect, that I will be overwhelmed with guilt and confess everything just to make it stop.
My favorite meals appear with alarming frequency, always accompanied by comments like, "I just thought my hardworking Onii-chan deserved a special treat after his long nights of… studying."
My room is kept impeccably clean, my laundry folded with military precision. "Just want to make sure you have a comfortable space to relax, Onii-chan," she says, her smile radiating pure, terrifying sweetness. "You seem so stressed lately."
She starts doing my chores before I even have a chance to. She takes out the trash. She cleans the bathroom. She even organizes my disastrously messy shoe closet. "Do not worry about it, Onii-chan!" she chirps when I try to protest. "Taking care of you makes me happy!"
It is psychological torture disguised as affection. Every kind gesture feels like an accusation. Every delicious meal tastes faintly of guilt. I am living in a gilded cage, slowly being driven insane by relentless, passive-aggressive niceness.
Haruka, observing this new tactic with detached amusement, decides to counter with her own brand of psychological warfare: Operation: Sophisticated Escape Route.
She starts "coincidentally" running into me outside of school more often. "Oh, Rui-kun! Fancy meeting you here," she will say, suddenly appearing beside me at the bookstore or the train station. "This neighborhood is so… mundane. You should let me show you some real culture sometime. There is a fascinating avant-garde art exhibit downtown…"
She positions herself as the cool, mature alternative to Rina's cloying domesticity. She offers intellectual stimulation, sophisticated outings, an escape from the "childish drama" of my home life. She does not flirt overtly; she just presents herself as a calm, rational, and appealingly adult option, subtly highlighting the absurdity of my situation with Rina (and, by implication, Aiwa).
My life becomes a ridiculous tug-of-war between two competing versions of idealized femininity. Rina offers the comfort and care of a perfect (if slightly unhinged) domestic goddess. Haruka offers the allure of sophisticated, adult companionship. Both offers are wrapped in layers of manipulation and rivalry.
Aiwa, meanwhile, continues her own quiet campaign. The snack offerings persist. The shy smiles become slightly more frequent. And she starts leaving little origami cranes on my desk, each one folded from paper printed with tiny 'Starlight Paladin' motifs. It is incredibly nerdy, incredibly sweet, and cuts right through my cynical defenses in a way Rina's cooking and Haruka's art exhibits cannot.
I am being bombarded from three sides by three completely different forms of affection, each one loaded with hidden meanings and potential consequences. My brain feels like it is being pulled in three different directions. I am starting to forget what "normal" even feels like. All I know is that I am constantly confused, constantly flustered, and constantly, deeply suspicious of anyone offering me food, coffee, or origami.