Chapter One: Like Sister, Like Brother

There are some things you shouldn't think about, because thinking about it will ultimately serve to make you comfortable with the topic, even if you, as an individual, do not like the subject matter. It should be avoided wherever possible, and of course, without a doubt, you should not experience the subject matter, period.

Unfortunately for me, I consider myself forcibly acquainted with the subject matter in question.

Yes, you know what I'm talking about. Those cases that are always so hard, so opaque… labels printed with a palette so vibrant, the protagonists so endearing you wish you could reach out, hug them and swear an oath to forever protect them… shit, there I go again.

It wasn't always like this. I didn't always have the smiling faces of adorable little sisters swirling in my mind wherever I was, whatever I was doing. Their childish voices, so kind, so gentle, squeaking out an affectionate "Onii-chan!" and blowing away my worries and every care, every responsibility. If I told you that my own, dare I say, equally cute little sister was directly responsible for this infatuation, would you believe me? No, we aren't – I shudder at the very thought – that way.

Whether you believe it or not, it's true – one hundred percent, with not a single lie. Why would I lie about this? Do you believe me to be some kind of siscon? All right, I'll hand it to you; you've gotten me there. I, Kyousuke Kousaka, have siscon tendencies. But only in the fictional sense, I swear! I absolutely have not, lately, been imagining situations where I've secretly placed her in the place of genuinely lovable little sisters. Kirino is not lovable. No sir, she is not, absolutely not.

Which is why, I am in my little sister's room, sitting on her bed, and am not having these thoughts. I didn't think about this at all, you hear?

"Well, did you want something?"

There we go; my aloof self is shining through.

"Did… did you finish it?"

Of course, it has to be about that. Lolling my eyes upward, I sigh, and say, "Yeah."

"… and?" she asks expectantly.

Damn it, why does she always insist on a verbatim recount of everything I do with my little sisters?

"I… we, we kissed, and I chose to push her down, and then we… we did it."

"Did you go from behind?"

"Yeah."

"Fool!" she exclaims, punching the air. "You're supposed to make her comfortable; if you do it from behind you make her self-conscious. You missed out on an entire scene! You needed to…"

It is unfathomable to me how she can calmly describe the optimal way to deflower one's own little sister comfortably as if it is a perfectly natural thing to talk about. Within otaku groups or on Internet forums, it is possible – but in her own room, and with her own brother? I can't help but feel my face heating up, ever so slightly.

"… facing you like I am, on her back, you can unlock the bonus scene where she'll c-"

"Stop stop stop! You'll spoil it! Moreover, what the hell are you doing?"

Occupied as I was with my thoughts of disbelief, I hadn't noticed her climbing onto her bed. So here she was, resting on her pillow with her legs spread and her arms outstretched. If I told you she's wearing a skirt today, and I can't help but stare at her pink, fluffy, teddy bear panties, what would you say, I wonder?

In that momentary pause, Kirino notices the direction of my eyes too. Time runs really fast in these situations, so it might just be me, but I can't help but feel a few extra seconds tick by, as if she's pondering, or perhaps inviting me, to stare at her crotch area for a little longer. But time is passing, and suddenly I feel her foot colliding with my face.

It hurts a lot. I can feel my nose scrunching under the force of the collision. As I tumble back, my head hits the floor with a loud thud. Blood is quickly teeming out of my nostrils. But even so, when I should be groaning, I can do nothing but think with a perverted grin that even her socks smell nice. I think I'm realizing the gravity of what I'm becoming.

"Gross! Pervert! Molester!" she screams the three words that are so characteristic of her, kicking my thighs with indifference as my blood starts to form a larger and larger pool on her lime colored rug. I wonder what she was wearing when she modeled for the money to buy this rug. I should take a look at Dad's exhaustive collection of her shoots. If she doesn't kill me here, that is.

It seems I'm in luck. Suddenly, the kicking stops, and I feel her hand on my cheek. She kneels down, her locks dangling beside me. Is that concern on her face?

"Are you ok, aniki?"

She dabbles several tissues in an effort to stem the flow of blood, pinching my nose hard.

"Ummnnnph, yerh, aime lark dose anme karakters beeding oba exsciment."

"What was that, aniki?" she says with an affectionate voice, her eyes slightly lowered, a small smile plastered on her lips, almost like a mother tending to her crying child.

Thank goodness I can't speak properly. I keep repeating the statement over and over, and she asks, each and every time, for me to repeat it, the flow of blood diminishing with each garbled response, until…

"There!" she says with satisfaction, clapping her hands together. "Now, what were you trying to say, aniki?"

I know this is bad, but I can't help myself. It's as if there's something about her that makes me want to be honest around her.

"I… was… like those…"

"Speak up, I can't hear you!"

No, no, there's no way I'm speaking up. No way I'm telling my little sister I felt aroused at the sight of her panties. Not only is it incredibly perverted for me to be feeling such feelings for any girl Kirino is my sister! My little sister, who I most certainly cannot, as dictated by every society on this planet, have sexual feelings for!

I suppose that's why my mouth is moving of its own accord.

"I was like those anime characters bleeding over excitement."

Holy shit… did I just confess?

Without warning, her fist soars in the direction of my face. I swerve to the left, narrowly avoiding the attack. I think she might've gotten a few hairs. I push myself to rise; she's a meter or two away from me, and closing. Her footsteps are slow and measured, like those of a lumbering giant. I can hear her hoarse breathing, see her shoulders rising and falling in tandem, her face red with anger and… embarrassment?

"I always knew you were a pervert, aniki. You've confirmed it now. A pervert and a disgusting siscon."

She lunges at me, her teeth bared like a rabid cat. I'm tempted to move, but I know that if I do, she'll collide with the wall behind us. My brotherly instincts kick over, my desire to protect her seizing the reins. I meet her attack, arms outstretched as she pushes both of us back.

Like the good brother I am, I cushion her against the collision. I can smell the fragrances of her shampoo as pain shoots through my backbone and, for the second time in less than an hour, I receive a concussive shot to the back of my skull. When I'm old and my bones are brittle, when each muscle movement leads to pain, I'll look back and curse you, Kirino.

"Let go of me, let go of me!" she screams while pounding my chest furiously. But for some reason, I don't let go, I hold onto her tighter, like one of those fantasies I've been having lately, until gradually she begins to tire, the time in-between each blow to my chest increasing until finally, it stops.

Saying nothing, she buries her face within my embrace, and together, we slide down onto the floor, silence replacing her screams. Together, we sit there for a time, Kirino in a fetal position, and I holding her. I don't know what to do, I know I need to get out of here, I need to clean myself up, give my poor abused skull an ice pack, and figure out how I'm going to wash the bloodstain off her rug, but this position, it's too sweet, too rare for me to break out of.

She breaks the silence first.

"Aniki… did you mean what you said?"

It comes out as barely a whisper, but in the dead silence, I hear it. I don't know what forces are guiding me along this path, but I'm done with restraining myself. I let out a grunt to affirm her question.

"Is that… yes?" she asks uncertainly. It's almost as if there's a hint of fear in her voice. Like she's afraid of my answer.

"Mmm…"

For the first time, she looks up at me, her eyes fierce with amazement.

She grips onto my shirt tighter. I can feel it; I can feel what's coming next. I know, I should stop it, I should backtrack, tell her I'm not serious, but those lips, they're way too cute. I resign myself to her; I break down my inhibitions as she stretches her body up to meet mine, with her eyes closed and her mouth extended forward. A weird sense of déjà vu sweeps over me, and I know, in the seemingly endless tide of eroge she throws at me, that this is one of those scenes that would fit perfectly in at least one of them, if there isn't a scene just like this one already. If I haven't already played through one of these scenes, if I haven't deliberately guided our actions to wind up like this. Have I? My heart is thumping fast.

Sometimes, I think my life is one bad manga or anime adaptation.

"What are you doing, Kirino? With him?"

We both swerve around in panic, breaking our embrace and jerking ourselves up as normally as possible. I must point out I am particularly panicked. If this person is who I think it is, my life is about to end, and no amount of begging for mercy will change my given path. Going from talking with my little sister about eroge to death row, all in the space of an hour, huh? You're beyond cruel, life.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend, Kirino. Let alone a boyfriend like him!"

I look to see a redheaded beauty standing at the door.

I believe it's safe to say we've had a divine intervention here. My sister has not taken my first kiss, and the person standing at the door is not the blue-eyed monster made executioner whom I believed it could only possibly be.

"Ka-Ka-Ka-Ka-Kanako, w-what are y-you d-doing here?" Kirino stutters lamely, a blush creeping up her face.

"You owe me, remember?"

"Oh, right, here…" She fetches something from her table and hands it to her. All the while, Kanako is grinning at me.

"You must be quite the charmer for Kirino to have fallen for you, Manager-san."

Another silent sigh of relief – she still doesn't recognize me from the first time.

"You know, Kirino… you can keep it if you share him with me…"

Kirino's face is becoming even redder. "I-it's not what you think!"

"I'm just kidding," she responds, laughing and flipping her hands about nonchalantly. "I'll leave you two alone then…"

With a wink at me, she closes the door behind her.

I take the moment to follow her out. But as I reach for the handle, I feel a tug from behind. Turning, I see Kirino with her face cast downward. She's still blushing furiously.

"What is it?" I ask nervously. Surely she isn't planning on asking me to continue… that.

"It's nothing," she replies, shaking her head. "Mom and Dad aren't home… I'm going to make dinner. For both of us."

She strides out of the room before I can respond. And her face was still red, if not redder. This is not good, not good at all. I hope she doesn't do anything to the food…

"Wait up, I'll help you out!"

As I follow her out the door, I can't help but want to nurture the nagging feeling within me that's crying out for her to indeed do something with the food… lace it with something – anything – to put me in another questionable situation with her again. And I can't help it. Even if one part of my mind is screaming at me, screaming, "She's your little sister!" I think the time has past where I can still deny it. And yet I know, I know this isn't right, I know that I'm but a thread away from ruining both our lives.

Then there's the shock, too. It's at the very forefront of it all.

"Kirino is receptive to a siscon of a brother! She likes me after all! She lied! She's a brocon!" is all I can think of as I exit her room.

I suppose I should wash off this blood and change into something before I head down. Why did I volunteer anyway? I should be getting away from this house as quickly as possible, running full pace over to Manami's to stay the night – no, stay forever, never return. For what I'm becoming, I should be self-imposing exile from this household. Maybe I can stay with Akagi. Find a part-time job. Pay him rent. Any place is better than here.

I step out changed with a determination to run. Even if it's only for a night, I need to get the hell out of here. Only, I find her there, at the bottom of the stairs, facing my direction. My resolve crumbles at the sight of her.

For a moment, I swear she looks rather cross. But a blink of the eye, and any indication that she is is gone.

How long has she been standing here, anyhow? Has she been here since I offered to help her…?

As she sees me approach, she inhales deeply. In the most feminine, high-pitched voice I've ever heard from her, she says:

"If… if onii-chan wants to see my panties, onii-chan can ask anytime…"

To demonstrate, she lifts the hem of her skirt up. Just enough to crack another service shot.


Author's Note

I'm so sorry this has turned out so unbelievably perverted.