“It failed,” he said. “Completely. I lost the scholarship, the lab space... everything.”
Dinner was warm nikujaga —his favorite. They ate in a rhythm of old habits: she stole a potato from his bowl; he retaliated by hiding the soy sauce. But halfway through, his chopsticks stopped moving.
“Ow!”
Rin stared at the empty chair across the kitchen table. Her little brother, Sora, was late.
He rubbed his forehead, bewildered. “What?” baku ane otouto
Rin grinned. Being weird was her job. She was a baku ane —a "dream-eating older sister," the kind who teased, poked, and never let you have a serious moment without turning it into a joke. But she also knew his silences, his tells, and the weight he carried.
Sora stood there, taller than her now, with a tired face that tried to smile. “Hey, nee-chan.” “It failed,” he said
For the first time that night, Sora’s smile reached his eyes. “You’re weird.”