April 29th, Showa Day — The First Dawn of Golden Week
Ever since he had awakened those extraordinary abilities, Kasumigaoka Touji found his required hours of sleep diminishing steadily. His body seemed to recharge its energy in a fraction of the time it once took, leaving him more hours in the day—or rather, the early morning—than he knew what to do with.
And so, on this holiday morning, he found himself awake long before the clock struck six.
Golden daylight already spilled generously across the Tokyo skyline. Due to Japan's geographical placement, the sun always rose with particular eagerness here. In Tokyo, dawn broke around four; up in Hokkaido, it was even earlier, closer to three-thirty—or so his mother, Kasumigaoka Airi, had mentioned once in passing.
Touji-san glanced beside him at his elder sister, Kasumigaoka Utaha, who was still lost in a deep, peaceful slumber. Her breathing was even, and a stray strand of dark hair lay across her cheek. Careful not to disturb her, he slipped out from the covers and padded silently out of the room.
The living room was wrapped in a serene quiet. His parents' door remained closed; they were likely still asleep. Touji-san moved like a shadow—brushing his teeth, splashing water on his face—and after a moment's contemplation, he pocketed his phone and stepped out of the apartment.
****
Thirty Minutes Later
Buzz.
The phone's vibration coincided with his return. The door swung open to reveal his mother, still in her cozy pajamas, her hair slightly tousled from sleep.
"Touji-kun? Where did you run off to so early in the morning?" Kasumigaoka Airi asked, tilting her head with a mixture of curiosity and maternal concern. She hadn't even heard him leave earlier.
"Ah, I just woke up feeling a bit restless, so I took a walk around the neighborhood," Touji replied with a gentle, practiced smile. The morning air had been crisp, and the empty streets held a different kind of peace.
"Are you not used to sleeping here? Was the futon uncomfortable?" his mother pressed, stepping back to let him in.
"Not at all! It's probably just… excitement about our trip later. I guess I woke up too eager," he offered smoothly, crafting the excuse on the spot.
"Fufu, still such a child at heart," Airi-sama chuckled, her eyes softening with affection. She playfully shook a finger at him. "You can wait in the living room or watch some TV. I haven't even started breakfast yet."
"Then let me handle it," Touji volunteered, already moving toward the compact open kitchen. With nothing else to occupy him, why not?
"Hmm…" Airi-sama placed a finger on her chin, considering. A soft, delighted smile spread across her face. "Well, it has been a long time since I've tasted my son's cooking. Very well! I place my faith in you, Touji-kun!"
"Leave it to me," he said, giving a confident OK sign.
As he tied on the apron and surveyed the well-stocked refrigerator, Kasumigaoka Airi retreated to the bathroom to finish her morning routine. The sound of running water and the faint scent of skincare products soon mingled with the beginning sounds of cooking.
***
Around 7:00 AM
Using the fresh ingredients from the fridge, Touji-san orchestrated a veritable feast: fluffy tamagoyaki, perfectly grilled salmon, miso soup with generous chunks of tofu and wakame, a small mountain of rice, and a bright assortment of pickles and greens.
By the time he was setting the table, his father, Kasumigaoka Eiji, had emerged, dressed and reading the morning news on his tablet. Airi-sama, now fully dressed and lightly made-up, was transferring laundry from the washer.
After exchanging morning greetings with his parents, Touji-san headed to the second bedroom to rouse a certain sleepyhead.
Sliding the door open, he found Kasumigaoka Utaha already awake—but only technically. She lay nestled in the futon, the glow of her phone screen illuminating her face in the dim room.
"Nii-san, ohayou~," she drawled lazily, not looking up from whatever she was scrolling through.
"Morning. Breakfast is ready," he stated, striding to the window. With a dramatic sweep, he pulled back the curtains.
Whoosh!
Brilliant morning sunlight flooded the room, painting the floor with liquid gold and making Utaha squint.
"…You should say, 'Onee-sama, it is time to rise,'" she complained, her voice still thick with sleep. A mischievous glint entered her wine-red eyes. "And you should be kneeling on one knee when you say it. That's the proper way to address your beloved elder sister."
Touji-san felt a vein throb gently at his temple. He turned to face her fully, his expression deadpan. "If you don't get up now, you'll get a spanking… Onee-san, you don't want your morning to start with a punishment from me, do you?"
"Tsk—!" She clicked her tongue, but her smile widened. "Nii-san's way of speaking is becoming more and more like a delinquent from one of those certain light novels… Your onee-san is deeply disappointed. What happened to my pure, respectful little brother?"
She sighed theatrically, her face a mask of exaggerated sorrow. A single, slender finger, pale as a spring onion stalk, emerged from under the blankets to point accusingly at him. "Also, violence is never the answer! Don't tell me Nii-san is evolving into an abusive type! How terrifying!"
Touji-san narrowed his eyes. He marched to the bedside, placed a hand on his hip, and looked down at her from his full height, casting her in his shadow. "Isn't this exactly what you wanted? A scoundrel of a little brother who does this and that to you?"
He let the loaded question hang in the air for a beat. "I'll count to three. If you're not up, I'm carrying out the sentence."
"Three…"
Utaha's eyes sparkled with unbridled amusement.
"Two…"
She didn't move a muscle.
"One."
"MAMA—! Mmmph?!"
Just as the syllable left his lips, Utaha took a deep breath and let out a cry. Touji-san's reflexes, honed by his abilities, were instantaneous. He lunged forward, bending at the waist, and firmly covered her mouth with his hand.
"Utaha! Can't you take a joke?!" he hissed, his voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief. "To think you'd actually try to snitch to our parents…!"
He could already imagine the wildly misinterpreted tale she'd spin.
"Mmmph! Mmmph!" she protested into his palm, her eyes wide with faux indignation. She grabbed his wrist with both hands, trying to pry it away, while her legs kicked out at him from under the covers in a futile, kangaroo-like struggle.
With laughable ease, Touji-san used his free hand to gently pin her flailing legs. Then, in two swift, decisive motions—
Pat. Pat.
Two firm, unmistakable spanks landed.
Utaha-san froze. All struggle ceased. A profound, stunned silence filled the room, broken only by their breathing.
****
A Short While Later, at the Dining Table
The family of four sat together for a shared meal, an arrangement that felt both familiar and nostalgically precious. The seating order was the same as at their own home.
"Fufufu… you two are quite passionate first thing in the morning, aren't you?" Kasumigaoka Airi remarked casually after savoring a bite of the delicious tamagoyaki. Her knowing gaze drifted between her two children, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
Touji-san's chopsticks paused mid-air. Across from him, Utaha-san's posture stiffened almost imperceptibly before she mastered herself.
"W-What passion?!" she countered, her voice a pitch higher than usual. She swiftly donned the mask of the wronged victim. "Mama, you need to discipline Nii-san properly! He threatened to hit me if I didn't get up! He's becoming more violent by the day, always bullying his poor, defenseless onee-san!"
She even brought a hand to her eye, dabbing at a completely non-existent tear.
"Ho? Is that so?" The combined gaze of the Kasumigaoka parents shifted and settled on Touji. The weight of their attention was palpable.
"That's a blatant falsehood!" Touji-san declared, setting his chopsticks down with a click. "Slander! Defamation of character! The events did not transpire as described!"
He shook his head emphatically. Under the table, his knee gently nudged his sister's leg—a silent warning to cease and desist.
"My, my… one says black, the other says white. As a mother, it's so hard to know whom to believe~" Sherlock Airi rested her delicate chin on her interlaced fingers, her expression one of exaggerated judicial dilemma.
"You should believe me!""You should believe me!"
Touji and Utaha spoke in perfect, unintentional unison.
Airi-sama's eyes flicked between them. A slow, cunning smile spread across her face. "Since you both insist I believe you, and that puts your dear mother in a bind… I've decided!"
She paused for effect, wiggling a raised finger.
"I shan't believe either of you! As punishment for troubling your mother's heart with your conflicting testimonies…" She gestured grandly toward the kitchen. "…the two of you shall be jointly responsible for cleaning the kitchen and washing all the dishes after this meal!"
A beat of absolute silence.
Kasumigaoka Touji: "…"
Kasumigaoka Utaha: "…"
From the head of the table, Kasumigaoka Eiji, who had been observing the entire theatrical exchange in serene silence, finally let out a soft, warm chuckle into his bowl of miso soup. It seemed some family dramas were the best entertainment of all.