The second time today.

The second time I’d been forced to kneel in front of her. Different place, same pressure digging into my spine.

No, it's worse this time.

Because tonight, there were two girls staring me down, both ready to explode, and neither one I could raise my voice against.

I swallowed, my knee sinking deeper into the tatami as if the floor itself was judging me.

“Alright, Theo. You know why I came here this late at night, don’t you?” Rina’s voice cracked like a whip. She didn’t raise it, but it hit harder than shouting ever could. Her eyes drilled straight through me.

My gaze slipped to the floor. “…Yes.”

“And you also know why I’m here too, right?” Lizzy added, stepping in beside her, mimicking Rina’s stance with frightening accuracy. Her green eyes narrowed, sharp and bright.

My lips parted. I hesitated just long enough to make it obvious.

“…Yes.”

Interrogated by my own little sister.

I let out a quiet breath through my nose, half a laugh that never fully formed. Never thought I’d see the day where I got scolded by my own little sister. Elysia Ciaran—Lizzy to me. Four years younger, but right now she looked like Mom reborn. Bronze hair glinted under the lamplight, her posture stiff, the gaze from her green eyes fierce and unyielding.

How did it come to this?

Even replaying the day in my head felt absurd.

Woke up late.

Fought off some punks and won.

Met a strange redhead who turned out to be a Roxley scout.

That same redhead slipped a recommendation letter into my bag.

Rina found it.

The moment she did, the air changed. She pressed me for answers. I dodged. She pressed harder. My excuses grew thinner, my voice tighter. Eventually, I cracked and told her everything.

When I admitted I’d refused Roxley’s recommendation, her hands trembled.

The silence that followed crushed my ears. She didn’t speak to me again that day. Not even Val could pry a word out of her. I should’ve known it would lead here.

So now, here I was.

Kneeling.

“Now,” Rina said, her lip curling just slightly, “repeat what you said at school. Out loud.”

My shoulders stiffened. “Which part?”

Her eyes sharpened. “Don’t play dumb, Theo. You know exactly which one.”

“…”

My jaw clenched. I could feel my pulse beating in my throat.

Rina’s stare pinned me like a knife. I opened my mouth, trying to speak a word, and then closed it again. No sound came out.

She exhaled sharply and pressed a hand to her face. “Do you even realize what you’re throwing away?” Her voice dropped, strained. “Do you think opportunities like this fall from the sky every day?”

My fingers dug into my knees. I forced myself not to flinch.

“…I know.”

“But you don’t understand it.” She dropped her hand and looked straight at me. “Otherwise, what reason could outweigh this? What could possibly be more important than a chance like this?”

My nails bit into my skin.

Who are you to decide what matters more than others?

The words burned at the tip of my tongue. I almost spat them out.

Almost.

But deep down, I knew she wasn’t wrong—and that knowledge hurt worse than her anger.

Anyone in their right mind would see Roxley as a miracle. Some people would kill just to touch that red envelope. Candidates still had to pass the practical exam, but skipping the written and interview stages was already a blessing. Thousands were cut there every year.

And a red envelope didn’t just mean privilege.

It meant scholarships. No tuition fees. No debts.

A future, handed to you.

I exhaled slowly through my nose.

I didn’t see it as holy.

Maybe there were others like me, people with reasons they couldn’t explain out loud.

Lizzy leaned in, her hands clasped behind her back. Her tone was playful, but there was an edge to it. “Honestly, I think it’d be amazing if you joined Roxley.” She grinned. “Can you imagine? I could brag every single day—my brother, a Roxley Arcane. People would shut up the second I said it.”

She smirked.

I sighed despite myself. Typical Lizzy. Her words only fed the fire, but coming from her, the tension cracked—just a little.

Rina let out another breath, longer this time, then turned to her. “Lizzy. Go to your room. I still need to talk with Theo.”

Lizzy tilted her head, skeptical. “You sure? I could convince him better, you know?”

“Go. To. Your. Room.”

Flat. Short.

Enough to make even me flinch.

Lizzy froze, eyes widening just a bit, then relented with a pout. “Fine…” She trudged upstairs, her footsteps heavy. A moment later, her door shut with a soft thud.

Silence fell faster than it should have.

Too heavy. Too sharp.

Rina’s eyes slid back to me, locking me in place. She didn’t speak right away. She just watched—like she was weighing something fragile, afraid it might shatter if she touched it wrong.

A full minute passed before she finally broke it.

“I don’t want to assume blindly, but…” Her voice softened, careful. “Is your reason because you can’t leave Lizzy alone?”

It was easier to be honest now. Maybe because the hardest part was already exposed.

“…Part of it.”

Her brows knit together. “You forgot I exist?” she asked quietly. “Lizzy’s safe with me.”

“Lizzy still needs her own family,” I said. My voice came out firmer than I intended. “She’s still eleven.”

Rina tilted her head slightly. “As far as I remember, she lights up every time she sees me more than you.”

The words sank deep. Too deep, that I flinched before I could stop myself.

She's right.

Who would choose a brother who wasn’t there when it mattered? After Mom died, I buried myself in motion. I took errands, work, anything that kept me from sitting still long enough to drown. Pathetic, really. I even avoided this house for weeks. Every corner bled with her presence. Every shadow looked like her silhouette.

And that's when Rina stepped in. In a time where I couldn’t be there, she filled the space. It's not a wonder why Lizzy got so attached to her.

That’s why I’d always said her presence was the real blessing, not that cursed red envelope. She filled the space I left behind. Lizzy adored her for it. Part of me even thought… maybe it was fine if I let her take that role.

Lizzy deserved someone better than me.

But there were lines I couldn’t just surrender.

Leaving everything to Rina and her family forever? No. I wouldn’t.

I won’t be that kind of person. I won't throw my family away.

“What if I said I’m the one who doesn’t want to be separated from her?” I stood up. My chest tightened, breath shallow. I clenched my fists at my sides. “I understand your point, Rina. I really do. But how does it make sense to say I should step aside? Should I—her blood brother—leave her to some stranger just so I can chase a dream?”

The shock on Rina’s face hit me harder than any shout could’ve. For a split second, she looked genuinely stunned. Then, her expression twisted. Brows drawing down. Eyes burning.

“Stranger?” Her voice trembled. “I’ve been coming to this house for as long as I can remember, and you still call me a stranger?”

“Then what do you want to call yourself?” I shot back, the words spilling out faster than I could rein them in. “Her mother? Her sister? I admit, you’re like family to her. You’re like family to me too. But you have your own life. Your own goals. Your friends, your homework, your future. You have your own dreams!”

“And I’m sure you do know what my dream is,” she said quietly.

My breath caught.

Damn it.

I forgot.

When we were kids, Rina dreamed of Roxley. I’d cheered for her louder than anyone. Believed in her harder than she believed in herself. But as the years passed, reality chipped away at that dream. She was smart—smarter than most—but not enough to seize the scholarship she needed. 

She knew it.

Slowly, painfully, she buried that dream where no one could touch it.

And then there was me, holding a red envelope she’d never have. Refusing it.

I’d never once stopped to think about how deep that must have cut.

Envy? No. She never showed that.

But whatever it was, it twisted into anger. As if my refusal mocked the dream she’d already mourned.

“…I’m sorry.” My eyes slid away from hers.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Her voice softened.

She stepped closer and gently took my hand, pressing it between both of hers. 

So warm.

“Remember when my Gift awakened?” she said. “You were bleeding all over this hand. I thought you were going to die. I clung to you like this. I was scared. And then the green light came, and the wound sealed.”

The memory surfaced before I could stop it.

“Fifth grade, right? We both fainted in the park afterward. Side effects drained us dry.”

She smiled faintly. “Yes. And the one who carried us home that day was…”

She didn’t finish.

She didn’t need to.

Growing up together meant sharing the same memories. The same scars. The same weight we never learned how to put down.

Her grip tightened.

She looked up into my eyes, searching for something. Then, her voice lowered, carefully knitting her next words.

“When you said Lizzy is only part of the reason you rejected Roxley… is the other part—”

“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate. There was no point. She already knew. “Now you see why I can’t just leave Lizzy, don’t you?”

Her lashes fluttered. Her breath hitched.

“…Don’t you think you’re still too trapped in the past?”

“Would you say the same thing if you were in my place?”

She faltered. Her lips parted as if to argue, but nothing came out. She closed her mouth, opened it again, then finally looked away.

Silence falls fast for the next minute. Then, at last, she exhaled. “…No chance of reconciliation?”

“I haven’t thought that far.”

“I see.”

Slowly, she let go of my hand. The warmth drained from my palm, leaving an empty chill behind.

“Then I won’t push you anymore,” she said quietly. “Maybe I was too harsh. Too wrapped up in my own feelings to notice what was in yours.”

“That’s not a problem,” I said. “Anyone would’ve reacted the same way.”

She gave me a wry smile. “But I’m not anyone. I’m the one who knows you best.”

I snorted. “What are you, my mom?”

“Lizzy’s big sister,” she replied firmly, lifting her chin with a spark of pride.

“I won’t comment on that,” I muttered.

She rolled her eyes and turned toward the door. “Anyway, school tomorrow. I shouldn’t stay too late.”

“Not staying over with Lizzy tonight?”

“Why?” she shot back. “So you can spy through the keyhole?”

“I wouldn’t! And besides, this house doesn’t even have keyholes anymore!”

She laughed, light and sing-song. “I’m joking~”

She slipped on her shoes and opened the door—then paused.

Without turning back, she spoke softly.

“Oh. That reminds me. I almost forgot to give you this.”

She reached into her pocket.

A small red box. Neatly tied with a ribbon.

My heart jumped. I clenched my fist in my pocket, forcing myself not to smile.

“What’s this?” I asked, doing my best to sound casual.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She pressed it lightly against my chest. “Valentine. I guess as Lizzy’s big sister, I should give something to her big brother too, right?”

Oh.

Oh no.

I really couldn’t stop the grin this time. My thoughts scattered everywhere.

“I—uh… wait, I really… then—”

Hold yourself, Theo. Hold yourself. 

I’m not used to this. When was the last time I got a present? Lizzy gave me one on New Year’s Eve, sure—but this was from Rina. Lizzy’s my sister, but Rina is—

“You always overthink things, hm?”

She leaned in.

Closer.

A faint scent of white rose brushed against me. I froze, breath caught halfway in. She was a little taller than me. I always had to look up at her. But now, we were eye level.

“Just take it, won’t you?”

Her whisper seemed to hypnotize me..

That’s… right.

Why am I thinking so hard?

“I see… thanks. Really.”

That was all it took.

She smiled. A soft smile, a simple smile. And she stepped back. By the time I realized it, the box was already in my hands.

“That’s it, then. Goodnight.”

She slipped out. The door clicked shut behind her.

Silence flooded the room.

Her footsteps faded down the street, leaving the stunned me standing there, and still trying to understand what had just happened.

“…Wow.”

I glanced down at the box.

I couldn’t help myself.

The ribbon came off first. Then the red wrapping. Inside was a neatly folded cardboard box, cut with care. I lifted the lid.

Chocolate.

I took a bite.

Sweet.

But… well. She knows I’m not much of a sweet tooth.

A moment later, a faint bitterness followed.