OreImo: My Little Sister Can't Be This Much of a Bitch

05

I should have known, I mused, sitting down at one of the small white tables in the McDonalds we'd wound up in and placing my tray in front of me. Kirino sat to my left, while Saori sat across from me and Kuroneko claimed the seat directly across from my sister.

"So, what's this about?" I asked Saori, playing the part of her straight man in this, as though I didn't know her and have some idea of what she had planned.

"Ah, well, I wanted to get to know the members I didn't get a chance to speak to," Saori smiled, her gaze shifting to Kirino and Kuroneko.

Opening my phone under the table, I switched my keyboard layout over to English and swiped out a message to Kuroneko.

Kyoka: I'm closer than you think, detective kitten.

Slipping my phone back into my pocket as Kuroneko's dinged and she dug it out of her purse, I met Saori's eyes through her glasses and winked. A quiet growl from Kuroneko drew our attention and she swiftly tucked away her phone.

"What's wrong, Kuroneko-shi?" Saori asked, turning a concerned look on the smaller girl.

Kuroneko frowned and shook her head. "It's nothing."

"I promise, I'm here to help any way I can," Saori offered. "Even if it's just to listen."

Eyeing the taller girl suspiciously from the side of her eyes for a moment, Kuroneko nodded. "I was merely having an argument with your subordinate, Saori-san."

"My subordinate?" Saori asked, her lips twitching into a grin. "And please, let's drop the formalities. Just call me Saori."

"It was Kyoka."

Kirino winced. "I've spoken to her. She's a bitch." Her eyes went wide and she covered her mouth, shooting a sheepish look at Saori. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. The irony of that statement coming from her of all people. About me. I might just die.

"No, no, it's fine Kiririn-shi," Saori dismissed Kirino's concerns. Turning to Kuroneko, Saori smiled. "Kyoka-shi isn't my subordinate. It's more of a mutually beneficial relationship."

Surprised she can say that with a straight face. Totally thought she'd make that little perverted giggle…

Kirino and Kuroneko both raised eyebrows at that before the smaller of the two turned to my sister and asked, "You're sure Kyoka is a woman?"

Kirino frowned. "Well, no. I mean, I assumed with the name… I suppose it could be a guy. Isn't there some silly rule or something like that about that sort of thing?"

"All women on the internet are men, all girls are federal agents," Saori and I answered together, before trading an amused look and a quiet laugh.

"Ugh. Disgusting," Kirino muttered.

I turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "What do you find disgusting now?"

"You two," she deadpanned. "You're too much alike. You're you and she's..."

"Calling herself Saori when she looks like that. I'm surprised she can even say her name," Kuroneko added. "It's shameless. It's not even funny as a joke. Call yourself 'Psycho Gundam' or 'Bigzam' from now on. And that manner of speech, and those clothes…"

"Like a gross otaku from a decade ago," Kirino took Kuroneko's verbal setup and went in for the kill.

Police? Yes, I'd like to report a murder. Shooting Saori an amused look, I said, "You shouldn't just take that kind of abuse."

"It's fine," she waved her hand. "Little insults like those are like water off a duck's back." Turning a leer on me, she added, "Feel free to verbally abuse me if you like, Kyosuke-shi."

"On the subject of clothes," Kuroneko began, putting down her coffee to regard Kirino across from her, "Why did you come here in that getup? Fashion like that doesn't belong in an IRL meetup in Akiba."

I palmed my face and sat back, gesturing for Saori to move away slightly. "Oh, here we go," I muttered under my breath as Kirino's eyes lit up as though she'd been mortally insulted.

"Should we intervene?" Saori asked, and I shook my head.

"Not yet."

Watching the two of them tear into each others' favorite anime, I caught Saori lowering her prop glasses to send me a pleading look over the top of them as the 'discussion' began to get truly heated. The things I do for you…

"Okay," I cut in, drawing their attention to me. I grinned and said, "Now, now girls. There's no point in arguing over whose anime is better. Kirino, we've talked about this before. Meruru is blatantly trying to cash in on the trend set by Sailor Moon, Cardcaptor Sakura, and later Nanoha. It's moe shit at its worst. At least Madoka had the decency to be daring and go full Evangelion with their deconstruction."

Kirino growled quietly, low in her throat, while Kuroneko covered her lips with her hand and gave a quiet, malicious laugh at her expense. Turning to Kuroneko, my grin became shit-eating. "Don't worry though, Kirino-chan. Kuroneko's taste is equally shit. Maschera is basically Code Geass, with more Code, less Geass, and no mechs but all of the pointless speeches and then some. They look like they bought their character designs from CLAMP but didn't pay enough for original designs, so got a Lelouche clone and a Yuuko clone. And make no mistake, the main character is a Lelouche clone—down to the opera outfit and the tendency towards grandstanding and overly complicated plans. The mask was also blatantly copied from Hei's in Darker than Black."

"You, you," Kuroneko hissed quietly, red eyes narrowed into a glare as she fumed at me, temporarily at a loss for words as Kirino took her opportunity to laugh. Then red eyes blinked under her new deerstalker as a look of realization crossed her face and she pointed at me. "You!"

"Me," I agreed.

"Him?" Kirino asked, forgetting for the moment that she was supposed to be mad at Kuroneko.

"I would recognize that argument anywhere," the loli-goth muttered. "You are Kyoka."

Kirino's confused look increased. "What? No, he's just my idiot brother. I mean, sure, that person said pretty much the same to me about Meru...ru… It is you!"

Saori laughed quietly from her chair, drawing the pair's attention. "You knew!" Kuroneko accused, shifting her pointing finger to Saori, who raised her hands in surrender.

Standing from the table, I looked down on Kuroneko and grinned as I fished out my phone and began tapping out a message. "Kosaka Kyosuke. In the maid cafe." I hit send.

Kuroneko's phone pinged and she immediately opened it before reading off the message there. "'With the cell phone.'"

"Congratulations on solving your first case, detective," I smirked, reaching down to muss the hat atop her head, and subsequently the hair underneath.

Kirino turned an irritated look on me. "You got her the hat?" she asked, and I nodded. "Why didn't you tell me you knew these people?!"

I sat back down, looking at Kuroneko and gesturing for her to do the same. To my surprise, she did—as opposed to simply abandoning us and storming off. Maybe I shouldn't have been all that surprised, given that whole saying about curiosity and cats. "Because, sister dear, if I had you would have just turned up your nose and refused to meet my 'weird, smelly, otaku' friends." Gesturing at Kuroneko and Saori, I asked, "Are they really that bad?"

Kirino eyed Saori and Kuroneko for a moment, twiddling her fingers in her lap before looking away. "No."

Spotting a chance to strike, Kuroneko asked, "How long have you known Saori?"

I looked to the girl in question who beamed a catty smile. "About two years now." Turning an amused look on Kirino, I said, "She's actually been over a time or two. But since you assumed it was Manami, you stayed in your room rather than risk confrontation."

Kirino sucked her teeth and I shot her a mild glare in rebuke—she knew damn well how much I hated that fucking teeth sucking tchip. "Why help moderate the forum?" Kuroneko asked.

"Partly because I'm the one who suggested she start it, partly because I have the experience to do it. Managing all the different personalities on a popular forum like Saori's is like herding cats. Having me act as the law means Saori can be the kind 'onee-sama' that you girls can turn to without the specter of potentially being banned hanging over your heads." A faint smirk crossed my lips as I added, "Or, to put it another way, if Saori is mommy everyone goes to about their boo-boos, I'm daddy who lets the kids know when it's bed time and that no means no."

An evil smirk crossed Kirino's face as she turned to Kuroneko. "Well, well. It seems as though I have the upper hand."

Kuroneko's red eyes shot to my sister. "Only if you admit to being such a lowly, worthless pig that you have to go running to your 'onii-chan' to fight your battles for you."

"Pig? That's funny, coming from a washboard like you," Kirino retorted.

The smaller girl's hands fisted at her sides. "Step outside, bitch. I will carve the true meaning of fear into you."

I turned back to Saori. "I tried," I shrugged. "Let them fight it out. It's like introducing a couple of dominant female cats to each other. They need to establish a pecking order."

"I think I know what happens from here," Ruri muttered, tossing me a mild glare as she hugged my pillow to her chest.

Grinning, I asked, "You sure you don't want me to continue and give you Saori's and my play-by-play commentary as the two of you verbally assaulted each other?"

Ruri's glare intensified. "I'm sure."

"Okay then," I shrugged. "For some reason, the two of you decided to go look at doujins."

"There was a perfectly logical explanation for that!"

I raised an eyebrow at the small girl on my bed. "Namely, trying to prove a point to my sister in a case of bringing an internet argument into real life?"

Closing her eyes in defeat, Ruri nodded. "Yes," she admitted.

"You see? Meruru doujins are aimed at an adult male target audience. She is simply a hole for their lust."

I turned an amused look on Saori and asked, sotto voice, "Only one? What about the other two?"

Saori snorted quietly beside me as Kuroneko turned a glare on us. "Shh!" the tall girl shushed me.

Kirino rolled her eyes and marched over to the display for the Mascara doujins, forcing the rest of us to follow. "And Maschera is all just BL."

"Ne ne, Kyosuke-shi, what do you think of this one," Saori asked, picking up a title and waving it under my nose.

"I think you're going the right way for a smacked bottom," I muttered in English. Saori and Kuroneko caught that immediately. Kirino, having heard that phrase before in another context, winced and quickly stepped away from the yaoi display, moving for another Meruru display.

Saori and I moved to the side as the pair of Kuroneko and my sister began to browse the displays together. "Success," Saori muttered, sending me a smile.

"I think so," I agreed. The pair definitely rubbed each other the wrong way, intentionally, but for all that they appeared to be getting along even as they argued the minutiae of their shared interest in anime. Turning a questioning look on the tall girl at my side, I asked, "So, keepers for you?"

"Hmm," Saori hummed quietly. "I think so. Kuroneko-shi is the cutest thing and given her cosplay it would probably be easy to get her into other outfits." She was literally salivating at the thought and I reached out and wiped the drool away from her lips, only to have those lips quickly enclose my finger and swiftly suck it off with a pop as my finger left her mouth. "Your sister has a kind of refined, unique beauty—exotic, but also familiar. I think it's the hair that does it for me."

"I figured as much," I rolled my eyes. "Blame mom. She's the one with the reddish hair and more caucasian features. Pretty sure her mother was a halfa. And remember what I said. I won't be held responsible."

Chuckling, Saori shifted over and bumped her hip against mine. "Jealous, Kyosuke-shi? Don't worry, I won't trade you in for the younger model." Leering, she added, "I think I want the set."

Shaking my head, I gestured towards where the pair were paying for their purchases. "Come on, I think we're done here."

Kirino and Kuroneko rejoined us and Saori asked, "Are we ready to head to the station?"

"You were both gone all day. Where'd you go?" Yoshino asked, resting her chopsticks in her rice bowl for a moment.

"Shopping with some friends," Kirino answered quickly.

I rolled my eyes. "I introduced her to Saori, who brought a friend along."

"Oh?" Yoshino smirked at me. "I do like Saori-chan. Manami and Saori—my son is a ladies man."

"It's not like that," I sighed, ignoring her antics. We had been over this more than once.

"Sure, sure," Yoshino nodded.

Our father, Kosaka Daisuke, turned what he thought was a knowing look on me. "If you get them in trouble, I expect you to take responsibility."

I placed my chopsticks down and met his stern look with an unamused look of my own. "I have a job. I make straight 'A's. I'm fluent in English, Arabic, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, and am studying Korean in my free time to expand my market and raise my value as an employee with a view to eventually starting my own business. I have plans to go to college and get a degree in business and finance, specifically to further that goal. I intend to buy a car as soon as I turn eighteen—in fact, I already have the money saved up. I intend to move out after graduation and get an apartment, which I'll likely share with Manami and possibly also Saori so we can split the bills. If I do by some twist of fate manage to knock up Manami or Saori, by the time it happens I'll have enough saved to pay for it out of pocket. Were you as prepared for your adult life at my age, father?"

Daisuke opened his mouth to comment but Yoshino beat him to it. "He has you there, dear. On all counts." Daisuke frowned and went back to his rice, silently nodding to acknowledge the point. "Did any boys hit on you, Kirino?"

"No, mom," Kirino sighed. "We were all together and Kyosuke was there. Besides, even if they did, I'd ignore them—"

"Don't go too far. Work is fine, but if you wear clothes like that all the time you might make a mistake," Daisuke cut her off.

"Father, you know Kirino works hard—" Yoshino began.

Kirino started to stand but my hand on her thigh caused her eyes to go wide as I forced her back down. "Sit," I ordered quietly before locking eyes with our father. "I've already warned her about that," I told him. "Tell me, did you do a background check on her manager?"

"No, I—"

I cut him off. "No. I did."

"You did what?!" Kirino hissed.

I turned an amused look on her. "I hired a private investigator as soon as I found out about your job. Retired cop, good guy, met him through Saori. He says your manager is clean for now, but he was friends with a guy who did exactly the sort of thing I warned you about." Kirino's eyes went wider and I continued before she panicked. "They're no longer friends, apparently. Doesn't mean he'll stay clean." Turning back to Daisuke, I asked, "Did you approach him when you found out she took the job? Warn him not to lay his filthy hands on Kirino?"

"He seemed like a nice enough fellow."

"Uh huh," I snorted softly. "And while you were cozying up to the slimeball, I was putting the fear of God into him."

Kirino's eyes narrowed. "What did you do?" She blinked and followed that up with, "Is that why he won't be alone in a room with any of us now?"

"Yes. And as far as the law is concerned, nothing. No police report, no crime," I shrugged. "But let's just say he no longer takes stairs and he always checks to make sure no one is behind him when he uses elevators now."

Daisuke turned his gaze to Kirino and jerked his head towards the stairs. "Thank you for the meal," Kirino excused herself quietly.

As soon as she was upstairs, our father turned to look at Yoshino. "More tea, dear?" she asked, clearly refusing to be sent away as Kirino had.

"Please," he murmured before focusing his gaze on me. "What should I do with you?"

"Thank me for doing your job," I deadpanned.

The older man's fist pounded quietly on the table, rattling the plates and glasses there, and Yoshino sighed. "Don't antagonize your father, dear."

I turned a half-amused look on her. "Men butt heads to establish dominance. The males of every pack animal fight to prove their place in the hierarchy. It's the way of things." Shifting my gaze to Daisuke, I added, "The son doesn't usually usurp the father until much later in life, however there are always exceptions."

"I can still take you in a fight," he grumbled.

I snorted softly. "Please. When's the last time you worked out? Do you know what I do with my mornings?"

Everything I had done since basic in my second life, plus martial arts katas and working over a punching bag on top of it. I'd been building up that routine since I was old enough to walk and adding something new every few months as my body adjusted. Being a 'soup sandwich' my first life lead me to joining the military out of high school in my second life and seeing the difference it made the second time around had decided my course for me the moment I became self-aware in this new time and place. I only looked scrawny in my school uniform. Under my uniform? Well, there was a reason Manami and Saori both enjoyed using me as their personal body pillow.

Chuckling, I offered, "Meet me outside tomorrow. Five a.m.. We'll see how long you can keep up. Because a fight isn't all about that first punch. Sure, you're a grown man and you've got several kilos and some height and reach on me, and I'm still growing—you could probably overpower me in a straight up knock down, drag out fight. What happens when you miss? And continue missing, because the guy you're fighting is faster and better, and keeps laying into you when you can't strike back? What happens when you eventually get tired and you're just a big, slow target and he starts lighting you up with punches and kicks?"

"We could hash this out right now," he offered, a feral, eager grin spreading across his face. Apparently, he liked the idea of a good fight almost as much as I did.

"Let's go, old man," I began to rise from my seat when Yoshino's hand flashed out and caught my own.

Her other hand had caught Daisuke's as well, just as he was getting out of his own chair. "Boys." She turned a glare on me. "Son." Her glare turned to Daisuke. "Husband." We both winced. "Behave. Or you'll be sleeping on the couch," she warned my father before her gaze shifted back to me, "And I'll get Manami to guilt trip you."

"That's not fair," I grunted, dropping back into my seat as she let go of my arm.

Daisuke sighed, sending an amused glance my way. "Your mother rarely plays fair."

"What was that, dear?" Yoshino asked with a falsely sweet tone of voice that had Daisuke and I both wincing. We both knew that tone. It was the 'agree with me or you're in the dog house' voice.

Clearing my throat, I stood up and gathered my dishes. "Right then. I'm heading upstairs. Work to do, then studying. Maybe I'll see about dropping another few hundred thousand yen into the stock market," I shrugged, putting on a face of nonchalance as I rubbed my point in. "Thank you for the meal," I excused myself.

It was dark by the time I finished my work and studying for the day. I didn't really have a set schedule as far as my job went, nor did I have to show up at an office. It was honestly perfect for me in that way. So long as I produced results within the deadline, my employer didn't care—and I always turned in things weeks or months before deadline, giving them time to review what I had sent over so we could hash out last minute revisions if necessary. Turning over what I knew of my past lives, I picked a few stocks from companies that I remembered would show promise in international markets along with a few I'd been keeping my eyes on that were similar to those I was familiar with and shuffled some of my saved money around. I needed to do some research soon so I could go ahead and put money in now to take advantage of the disaster I knew was coming. I still had a year before I could buy my car, so if I could make the money back from my job and use this money to make more money, then that was the most financially sound thing to do.

Yawning, I pushed out of my chair and checked my messages. Both Saori and Kuroneko had messaged me about today, so I took a minute to reply before stepping into the hall and going to knock on Kirino's door. My sister opened her door and frowned at me. "What?"

"So, how's it going with Saori and Kuroneko?"

"They messaged you?" she asked, and I nodded. "We've exchanged a few messages. The dark one lives near here. I suppose you know where the tall girl lives."

"I've been there," I agreed. "It's pretty far."

Kirino nodded—apparently Saori had told her where she lived. "We were talking about the next IRL meet-up. Well, I can't really help it, so I thought I might go."

"Careful, your tsundere tendencies are showing," I pointed out, earning a glare as she crossed her arms under her breasts.

"I am not," she pouted.

"Please. You sound just like one."

She stepped back into her room and slammed her door. "Shut up, idiot!"

"Proving my point," I called after her, earning a kick to her door in answer. Laughing, I headed for the bathroom to shower for the night.

"I thought you said she was all tsun, no dere."

I rolled my eyes. "She is. To me. To you and Saori, she's a classic tsundere. More of one than you are."

"As though I would—" Ruri paused, catching herself as a rueful look crossed over her face. "Perhaps you may have a point."

"That's okay though. It makes you look cute, occasionally," I teased, earning a blush in response.

Clearing her throat, Ruri attempted to steer the conversation back on track. "Next was Summer Comiket?"

"Comiket and Ayase. And Kanako."

"I don't like them," Ruri frowned. "Ayase is…"

"Yandere," I supplied flatly, earning a nod. "Kanako is a brat and an acquired taste, so I don't blame you there, but Ayase is actually nice once you get to know her."

Ruri frowned. "She has a crush on you."

"I'm aware. I'm more worried about Kanako than Ayase."

"Why?" the dark-haired girl asked.

"Because while Ayase has a crush, she won't do much beyond ask me out—which I'll probably politely refuse by explaining that things are too damned complicated for her to date me. Kanako, on the other hand," I shrugged, "she knows things are complicated and doesn't care."

"Why?" Ruri asked, palming her face. "Why go that far when someone has said no?" I looked away and she glared at me. "You have said no, haven't you?"

"Not in as many words."

Ruri let out a quiet growl. "It's one word. One syllable in both English and Japanese! Why haven't you?" When I said nothing, she groaned quietly. "It's because you enjoy winding her up, isn't it?"

"It's because I enjoy winding her up and seeing her flustered," I agreed. "Just like I do with you, and Saori, and especially Manami when I can manage it."

Snorting softly, the loli-goth on my bed rolled her eyes. "Only because Manami is impossibly cute when you stir her up." Sighing, she said, "Well, go on."

"Okay. I suppose it began when Kirino heard about Comiket at school, eavesdropping on the otaku again. Though, the setup for Ayase entering the picture came later that day at her photo shoot, when she turned Ayase down when Ayase wanted to hang out with her that Sunday."

"That was the day she complained about the plot of Mascara. If I recall correctly, she was playing eroge while on the phone with me."

Sighing, I leaned back in my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Why am I not surprised?"

"She started breathing heavily after I told her I was helping my little sister take a bath."

I groaned. "I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize for your sister's loathsome habits," Ruri said. "She is not your responsibility."

"Fine." I sighed, thinking it over for a moment before saying, "Actually, before Comiket was the incident Sunday."

"The day we went shopping together and she bought the eroge and dvds?" Ruri asked. "What happened?"

I shot her an amused look. "The worst possible thing. Dad found out about her habits."

I was intercepted in the hallway in front of the door leading into the main part of the house by a worried looking Yoshino before I could make it deeper into the house. "What's wrong?"

"It's Kirino," she answered quietly. "Your father bumped into her and she dropped a dvd. The case opened when it hit the floor and he saw something… indecent. I've never seen him so angry."

"Fuck," I hissed, reaching up and palming my face. "Well, it had to happen sooner or later. I warned her."

Yoshino blinked. "You knew?"

"That Kirino plays adult games of a very specific nature?" I asked and Yoshino, for once, blushed as she nodded. "Yes. She told me a while back and asked for advice."

"What did you tell her?!" Yoshino asked, unsure whether she wanted to be angry, upset, or worried and settling on a mixture of all three.

I shrugged. "Keep it secret, don't let it affect her personal life, and don't waste all her money on it. So far, she's managed two out of three of those. How bad was whatever was in the case?"

"I'm not sure…"

I hated having to ask, but I did anyway. "Little girls on the cover?" I asked, and she nodded. "Oh hell."

There was a sound from the living room that I couldn't place and Kirino came running out, quickly pulling on her shoes before running out the front door. "Go after her!" Yoshino urged.

"Go up to my room. Look in my desk. Third drawer down, right hand side. There, you'll find a collection of color coded binders. Grab the red one labeled FUBAR, all English lettering down the spine. Take it to dad and sit on him until he reads it if you have to. I'll be back," I told her, pulling on my shoes and heading outside. I caught sight of Kirino heading down the street and took off after her. 'I wish I had a bike. Or a motorcycle.'

Kirino was good at track and field and had a decent head start, but my longer legs and stamina allowed me to keep up. As soon as we hit the crowds and she slowed down, I slowed my own pace and gave her space, tailing her from a distance. Eventually, she found her way into an arcade and began smashing on a set of drums, yelling at the top of her lungs. I let her get it out of her system for a few minutes before I realized that she had no intention of stopping and this could take a while. Walking up behind her, I put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey."

Kirino spun, her right elbow coming back to attempt to hammer my nose into my skull, her eyes blazing in fury as she found a new target to attack. I caught her arm with my free hand and squeezed hard enough to make a point. She pulled her arm away and I let her. "You followed me. Why?"

"Why do you think?" I rolled my eyes.

"Gross," she said, turning her face away.

I resisted the urge to tell her to fuck off. Instead, I said, "Tell me what happened."

"Fine," Kirino spat, spinning on her heel and stalking off. "Not here."

I followed her to a family diner and caught up to her just outside of it as she was opening the door. Catching her free hand, I pulled her away. "Not here either," I warned. "Unless you want to air your dirty laundry in public. Come on, there's a park nearby."

Strangely, Kirino did not immediately yank her hand back as I pulled her along through the crowds towards the park Manami and I frequented. Finding our usual secluded spot, I released her hand and dropped onto the bench, then patted the spot beside me. Kirino sat down silently and I had to eventually ask, "What did dad say?"

"That he doesn't have any complaints about my makeup, my clothes, or my bags since I worked and paid for those myself. He said the news says the games I like are a bad influence on children."

I snorted softly at that, earning an angry look from her. "Called it."

"Shut up."

"No. No, Kirino, I will not shut up. I told you so. From the day you asked me for help, I told you that he would say something like that, because most people are sheep and believe everything the television tells them," I rubbed it in. Sometimes, the only way for someone to know they've done wrong is to have their noses rubbed in it. Repeatedly, if necessary. Most especially while the mistake is still fresh and they're still hurting over it.

"Fine! Yes! You were right!" she yelled, starling some nearby joggers. We both ignored them. "Does that make you happy?!"

"No," I denied. "What else did he say?"

"He said everything—my favorite anime, games, even the meet-up I went to today were worthless!" She lunged for me, and for a moment I thought she would try to hit me again. Instead, she threw her arms around my chest and broke down crying. "I couldn't say anything back…" I held her until she finally stopped shaking and, with the most pitiful voice I'd heard from her in years, asked, "What do I do?"

"Do you want to give it up?" I asked, and she shook her head. "Are you willing to sacrifice your friends and your social life for it yet?" Another shake of the head. "So you still want to have your cake and eat it too."

Kirino nodded, quietly answering, "I know it's unreasonable, but I do. I love them both equally."

"I've said it before: life doesn't always work that way—especially people. But fine. I'll help you out, just this once. Luckily for you, I planned for this contingency in advance. Kuroneko lives nearby. Go hang out with her for an hour or two."

Kirino let go as I stood. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to stick to the plan, and that's all you need to know."

"You should have left her to her fate."

I shrugged. "I could have. I probably should have, too. But I figured she deserved a chance, at least."

Ruri sighed and asked, "Why do you go to such lengths for her when she clearly hates you?"

"Because she's my sister—idiot and bitch that she is." Turning a grin on her, I added, "Besides, I'd go further for you. Or Manami, or Saori. Even Kanako."

"Kirino's with a friend. Mind giving us the house for half an hour or so?"

Yoshino sighed before nodding as a small smile played across her face. "Fine. I'll go buy some beer or something."

"Thanks."

Reaching out, she patted my shoulder. "Do your best."

I waited for the exterior door to close before entering the living room. "I'm home," I called, finding Daisuke sitting in his preferred chair in the living room. Spotting mom's empty recliner directly across from him, I dropped into it and crossed one foot over my knee. "Let's talk about Kirino."

He met my gaze and gestured towards the dvd box, open to display its contents—filth. "You knew she had these things."

"Since she told me, because she was afraid to speak to you about it, because she knew you'd react this way. Yes."

"Do not try to shift the blame onto me—" he began and I held up a hand.

"I'm not," I interrupted. "Kirino is responsible for her own actions. You are responsible for her decisions regarding informing you of those actions. There is a difference."

"It's the same thing," he argued and I shook my head.

"No, it's not. She knows she can lead you around by the nose at times, but with things like this she knows you tend to overreact. Quite frankly, you scare her. It's good, in a way, because it limits the stupid things she does and makes sure that what she chooses to do she tends to keep quiet. In others, such as this, it's bad—because she keeps those stupid things quiet and then has an accident and everything comes out at once." I gestured towards the red binder. "Did you read it?"

"Yes," he answered. "What of it?"

I palmed my face. "If you have to ask 'what of it' then you didn't read it, or you failed half of the equation of 'reading comprehension,' namely the part where you comprehend the thing you've read."

"Do not backtalk me," he grumbled.

"Then don't act intentionally obtuse. Every argument you can make is countered in there—so you either failed to read it, you failed to understand it, or you failed to heed it. Which is it?" I asked. When he refused to answer, I guessed. "You refuse to heed it."

"Why are you covering for her? You can be stubborn after you answer that."

Blinking, I shot him a confused look. "Why wouldn't I? She's my sister. She knows her hobbies are weird—that's why she came to me and asked me for help. I'm helping her. I gave her rules to follow for this sort of thing to protect her and she has. It was bad luck that this happened at all, which means I'll need to add another rule for her."

"You're covering for her simply because she's your sister?"

I frowned. "You look out for family. Any idiot knows that. I don't see what's confusing about it. If you had beaten her manager to within an inch of his life as you should have, I would have told the police there was no way it could have been you because you were with me all day. If he laid a hand on her, I'd expect you to help me hide the body and for mom to say there was no way we could have been involved in his disappearance because we were with her all day. If Kirino fucks up—"

"Watch your language," he growled.

I narrowed my eyes and repeated myself, louder. "If Kirino fucks up I'll cover for her as I can, so long as it doesn't involve throwing myself under the bus for her. Now, answer my question. Why refuse to heed what I've written?"

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. "Because it's a bad influence on her."

Groaning quietly, I picked up the binder. "Fine. I'll play your game. In what way is it a bad influence? She has perfect grades. She gets awards from track. She is employed and makes the money she spends on her hobby herself."

"That was part of our agreement. It was why I let her work as a model," he argued.

"So, you're fine with her making money in exchange for scholastic excellence, but you want to have a say when it comes time for her to spend the money she made? It's unreasonable. Try again. Her hobby is weird, yes, but it is her hobby she keeps up in her free time—mostly in secret—and pays for with her own money. Where should you factor into this equation at all? Why should she not spend her money as she sees fit?"

"This is part of raising a child."

Nodding, I opened the binder. "Let's see… this one falls under 'she's living under my roof.'" Clearing my throat, I began to read aloud. "'What's your point? She pays for it herself, she does well in her studies, and she keeps it to herself. It harms no one.'" Looking up, I said, "Try again. Give me a legitimate reason this time. Something that doesn't boil down to 'because I said so.'"

Pulling the dvd box off the table, he held it up. "I can't allow her to have something so indecent. It's not a question of good or bad. What do you think this symbol means?" he asked, tapping the R-18 logo.

I grinned and flipped the pages in my binder. "'R-18: suggested viewing age of content is set at 18 years old.'" I looked up at him. "'Suggested,'" I repeated. "You can buy it in the store and hand it to me while a police officer watches and there is nothing he can legally do about it. As of March 1, 2006 the only thing legally banned in Japan is Z-rated titles."

Daisuke blinked before a frown crossed his face. "I thought for sure it meant…" he muttered.

I shook my head, flipping the binder around. "You didn't read, idiot. I did the research, printed out the ratings definitions and charts, and sourced it myself. I even provided URLs if you had bothered to read it," I growled the last bit.

"So, you're caught up on the legality of it, is that it? Fine. You're right. She shouldn't be buying these for herself at her age. Yes, it is technically illegal. However, it's only illegal on one end—the retailer. That is the enforcement end. If they don't check ID or otherwise verify the client is 18, then they are responsible for the sale of the material—the same as if a convenience store sold liquor or cigarettes to a minor. It's a misdemeanor at best. Tell me, when you drive, do you always drive exactly the posted speed limit?" I knew for a fact he didn't, so he couldn't bullshit me on this. Our father had a case of road rage that did my American heart proud.

"Well, no," he grumbled, reaching up to stroke his chin.

"And are you going to go turn yourself over to the police for it? Should I turn you over to the police for it?" I shook my head. "It's what's known as a 'victimless crime.' You've broken a rule, yes—but no one is hurt in the process, not even yourself. People argue that drugs are also a victimless crime, but those people are idiots—because the users are themselves harmed."

"You're wrong. The news—"

I flipped the binder over to the section I'd had my finger on this whole time and slammed it down on the table so loud it echoed. Jabbing the printed article with my finger, I demanded. "Read it. Aloud."

The old man's eyes narrowed in a glare, but he picked up the binder. "'We regret to inform our readership that this publication was mistaken regarding the article printed…'" he frowned, going silent as his eyes tracked over the page.

"Flip the page for the article they're referring to," I said and watched as he did so. "That's the article you read, isn't it? I guessed as much because it's the one from the paper you always read. They printed the redaction way back in the back of the paper, months later. The media lies and this is how they do it. They are not to be taken at their word, or with a grain of salt, but with the entire box. Unless you can verify the things they are saying one hundred percent, assume they are lying, exaggerating, or spinning the story for political or financial gain. The days of truth in media are long over—we've returned to yellow journalism. They know it, too. Any time someone points it out, they cry foul. Or 'conspiracy theory.'"

With a frown, he said, "Fine. This specific instance was wrong. But I still feel that these types of games and things will lead a person to be more inclined to acting out the things they see—"

"Red white and blue tab, labeled America. Flip to it. Read. Too Long, Didn't Fucking Read version: America has a population of over 300 million. They have more guns than they do potential gun owners. Gun deaths account for less than one one-thousandth of one percent of all deaths in the States. Video game saturation among those between the ages of ten and thirty-five is something like sixty percent. The majority of those play first person shooter games, or games like Grant Theft Auto—a game notorious for its violence. This is a game where you play as characters who do drugs, kill people with guns, and kill prostitutes to take back the money they spent. Of those polled who owned game consoles, who played violent video games, a large number of them also own guns." I had been one of them, at one point. The exact numbers are on pages one through four of that section. The conclusion? There is absolutely no correlation between violent video games and real life violence. Killing people all day long in whatever your murder simulator of choice is does not leave you any more or less predisposed to picking up a real gun and going on a killing spree. The numbers do not lie."

Pointing at the binder, I drove my point home with a sledgehammer. "Now, apply that to eroge. To loli-con. To whatever fetishist pornographic filth you care to name as far as games are concerned. Games are an outlet—a way for people to enjoy something without actually doing it, not a training camp for actually doing something. Back on the subject of guns, ask any soldier who's played any shooter and he'll tell you that video games have no bearing on real life. You cannot learn how to shoot from playing games. Likewise, even playing the most degenerate shit—rape games, for instance—wouldn't condition you or teach you how to be a rapist. Kirino is in no danger of the filth she plays making her act out on it in the real world unless she was already predisposed to it, in which case it was going to happen with or without the games."

Closing the binder, he placed it on the table and sighed. "You agree that it's filth."

It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway. "Absolutely. She's made me play her games for an 'objective opinion' and they're all filth—I'll never get back those wasted hours and never unsee it. It's not as morally questionable as you can get, but who am I to judge? I'm not the thought police and what she's doing isn't a crime according to the actual police."

Crossing his arms over his chest, he shot me a glare. "Fine. I won't forbid her this hobby, or take away her games."

"Thank you."

"However." There was always a fucking catch. I should have seen it coming. "You will be responsible for making sure she does not harm herself, her reputation, or this family."

I shrugged. "Sure. What's one more thing? I mean, I've pretty much been raising her myself where it matters for the last few years anyway." I turned an irritated look on him. "You're too damn soft on the things that matter, like her modeling and that pervert she works for. Then you turn around and you're too hard on her for shit that doesn't matter, like this," I gestured at the game on the table.

"I know."

I blinked. "Say what."

"I said I know," he repeated. "I've allowed it because you're right. Kirino will always be my little girl and there are times when it is hard to know how we should deal with things. You'll understand one day, when you have children of your own. We've allowed you to put pressure on her to help keep her in line, because she looks up to you."

"Is that so?" I muttered. I had thought for sure we hadn't been caught. Kirino would have never told them and I considered the issue resolved once I'd dealt with it so never saw a need to say anything—it would defeat the purpose of taking care of it myself and destroy the trust I'd built up with her. Namely, that she trusted me not to spread her secrets when she screwed up so long as she faced whatever punishment I felt she deserved for it. Kirino being Kirino, she would rather do that than face the humiliation of our parents or anyone else finding out.

"What do you mean about her manager being a pervert? I thought you said you hired a private investigator." He frowned and added, "Perhaps it's not Kirino I should be talking to about wasting money."

"Please, I gave her that speech the moment she showed me her collection. I use my money when I need it, not when I want something shiny. Making sure my sister's boss isn't going to drug her and prostitute her out to the porn industry is a need." I shrugged. "As for that, yeah, he came back clean. Doesn't mean he's not a pervert. The man photographs young girls. He's not homosexual. He's not married. He's not dating. If he's not into underage girls and desperately hoping one of his clients will fall for him, I'll eat my hat."

Daisuke hummed and nodded at that. "What did you say to him?"

"You really want to know?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do the words 'plausible deniability' mean anything to you? If you don't know the answer to something, you can't be forced to testify and won't be forced to lie if you choose to defend me. You can answer honestly and say you didn't know."

"It's dishonest."

"Yes," I agreed. "Absolutely. Some things are best done in the dark." Standing, I picked up my binder, along with Kirino's dvd. "Thanks for listening."

Pulling out my phone, I sent Kirino a text letting her know it was safe to come home. Moving to the entryway, I picked up a slipper. "What are you doing?" Daisuke asked, curiosity clear in his gruff voice.

I waved the slipper at him. "My job. The less you know, the better. See you tomorrow. That is, if you think you can make the full four miles. I think I'll add a mile soon."

"Tomorrow," he agreed, and I headed upstairs to wait for my sister. Before I passed out of range, I heard him mutter, "Why not four kilometers?"

"You are rude to your father," Ruri pointed out.

"Yes," I agreed. "Because it gets through his hard head. He's the kind of guy who sometimes has to have the truth beaten into him."

Ruri snorted. "Like father, like son."

"That's just a coincidence, considering my past," I shrugged.

"So you say," she retorted, amused. "What happened with Kirino?"

"I gave her the good news. Told her she was allowed to keep her hobby, her new friends, even her eroge. Gave her Rule Seven: No bringing pornographic content into the house unless it's in a secured, sealed container inside a zipped bag. She is to carry packing tape with her to make sure any dvd cases she uses to disguise them stay closed."

Nodding, Ruri said, "It's a good rule. It would prevent accidents like that from happening again."

"I hope," I nodded. "Of course, I'm pretty sure she's not going to forget it any time soon."

"Oh?" Ruri asked, arcing one fine eyebrow.

"As bad as things with dad were, nothing really came of it from him. Me, on the other hand? I spanked her little ass red until she promised to never repeat this particular fuckup again."

Ruri rolled her eyes. "You're horrible."

I shot her a deadpan look. "She enjoyed it."

"What?" the dark-haired girl blinked.

"Her panties were soaked to the point of being transparent. Her thighs were wet from the runoff. And I swear I think she came." I shook my head. "I can't decide if it was the humiliation that did it, the situation in general, or the physical stimulation. Either way, it did not work as intended."

"Forget what I said," Ruri shook her head. "You're both horrible."