So, let’s now introduce you to the Kumo-Astrino twins. They were born with extraordinary beauty, a perfect blend of their parents, Adara and Fuyuki. These enchanting identical young ladies, Tifani and Reika, captivated everyone from the very start. Tifani, the elder by just a few minutes, always seemed to lead the way, her sparkling eyes and charming smile leaving people enthralled. Reika, quieter and more reserved, followed her sister’s lead, her presence no less magnetic but in a more subtle way.

As the twins approached their fifth birthday, their personalities began to shine through, though not always in the ways one might expect from such angelic-looking children. Tifani had a way of drawing all attention to herself, her laugh infectious, her stories fascinating—or at least, that’s how she made them seem. There was an intensity to her, a need to be admired that went beyond the usual childhood desire for approval. She often manipulated situations to ensure she remained the center of attention, whether through her charm or by creating a bit of drama to capture everyone’s gaze.

Reika, on the other hand, was more calculating. She observed those around her with a keen, almost unnerving awareness, always one step ahead in understanding the dynamics of any situation. Unlike Tifani, who thrived on being seen, Reika preferred to stay in the background, subtly influencing outcomes in her favor without drawing attention to herself. If something went wrong, it was never Reika who was blamed—she had a knack for ensuring the blame fell elsewhere, often on those who never saw it coming.

Despite their differences, the twins shared an unspoken bond, a connection that allowed them to work in tandem, almost as if they were two halves of the same whole. This made them a formidable pair, their interactions with others often leaving adults baffled and slightly uneasy, though they couldn’t quite put their finger on why.

As their fifth birthday approached, Adara and Fuyuki planned a grand celebration, a party befitting the daughters of one of the wealthiest families in Japan. But beneath the cheerful preparations and the twins' radiant smiles, there was an undercurrent of something else—something only those closest to the family might have noticed, had they paid closer attention.

Tifani’s insistence on having the “perfect” party, down to the smallest detail, was more than just the whim of a spoiled child—it was a need, an obsession that drove her to lash out if things weren’t exactly as she envisioned. Reika, meanwhile, watched her sister’s outbursts with a quiet, almost clinical interest, occasionally offering suggestions that steered the situation in ways that served her own ends while maintaining the appearance of a dutiful, supportive sister.

The Kumo-Astrino household, with its wealth and prestige, presented a picture of perfection to the outside world. But within its walls, the cracks were already beginning to show, if only in the smallest of ways. Visitors might have left with a lingering sense of unease, a feeling that something was not quite right, though they could never articulate why.

The twins’ fifth birthday would mark the beginning of a new chapter in their lives, one where the hints of their true natures would start to surface more clearly, though still cloaked in the innocence of childhood. For now, they remained the darlings of the Kumo family, their secrets hidden behind smiles that could melt the coldest of hearts. But those who looked closely might have seen the shadows in their eyes, the subtle signs that these were not ordinary children, and that the future held more than just the typical challenges of raising twins.

You see, everything changed when Adara and Fuyuki had their third and final daughter, Yukina Kumo-Astrino. My big sisters didn’t exactly enjoy having to share the spotlight with a new sibling. From the moment I was born, the dynamic in our household shifted in subtle yet profound ways. Tifani, who had always thrived as the center of attention, was suddenly forced to share that space with someone else. For Reika, it was less about the attention and more about the disruption of the carefully balanced world she had so meticulously controlled.

As I grew older, I became aware of the tension that simmered beneath the surface, though I couldn’t understand it at the time. Tifani, who had once been so doting, began to show flashes of impatience and irritation whenever I was around. Her smiles, once so warm, felt forced, her laughter carrying a sharper edge. She often made snide comments disguised as jokes, always delivered with that dazzling smile that made it hard to tell whether she was being serious or not.

Reika, on the other hand, maintained her distance, watching me with those calculating eyes that seemed to see through everything. She never overtly displayed any animosity towards me, but there was something unsettling about the way she observed my every move. It was as if she were cataloging my behavior, storing away every detail for some purpose only she knew.

It wasn’t long before I started noticing the small things—little incidents that didn’t make sense. A cherished toy would go missing, only to turn up later in a place I knew I hadn’t left it. A favorite dress of mine would suddenly be ruined, a stain or tear appearing as if by magic. At first, these seemed like harmless pranks of older siblings, but the frequency and precision with which they occurred hinted at something more deliberate.

Tifani would often be the one to "find" the missing items, her smile bright as she handed them back to me, as if she were the hero of the story. But there was always that flicker in her eyes, a glint that suggested she knew more than she let on. Reika, meanwhile, would offer a quiet word of comfort or advice, always in that calm, soothing tone that made me feel safe—even as I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was somehow orchestrating these events from the shadows.

The adults, of course, saw none of this. To them, we were just three sisters growing up in a household filled with love and luxury. Adara and Fuyuki, consumed with their own lives and responsibilities, were blind to the undercurrents of tension that flowed between us. They looked at us with pride, their perfect daughters, never suspecting the darker truths that lay hidden beneath our flawless facades.

As my own fifth birthday approached, the small acts of sabotage escalated, though never in ways that could be easily traced back to Tifani or Reika. A "coincidental" spill that ruined a new dress, a "misunderstanding" that led to me being left behind during an outing—each incident was small enough to be brushed off as an accident, yet frequent enough to make me feel like something was amiss.

Yet, even in those moments, I was too young to fully grasp what was happening. I still adored my sisters, even as I began to fear them in ways I couldn’t articulate. Tifani’s charm was too potent, her affection too intoxicating for me to believe she could truly mean me harm. And Reika’s calm, measured demeanor always made me feel like I could trust her, even when my instincts told me otherwise.

Looking back, it’s clear that those early years were a time of testing—for both Tifani and Reika, and for me. They were learning how far they could push, how much they could get away with, while I was learning the hard lessons of trust and betrayal, though I didn’t realize it at the time.

That fifth birthday, like all the others before it, was a grand affair, filled with laughter, presents, and all the trappings of wealth and privilege. But beneath the surface, the cracks in our family’s perfect image were widening, even if no one else could see them.

And so, the stage was set for the years to come—years that would bring even more challenges, secrets, and betrayals as the three of us continued to grow, our paths forever intertwined in ways none of us could have predicted.