While Taking Care of My Shut-In Little Sister, I Somehow Ended Up Ejaculating Inside a Beautiful Girl

Chapter 3: Catching a Wet, Naked Girl Somehow Led to a Debate About Whether I Got Hard or Not

The reason for Usotsuki-chan’s collapse was quickly figured out.

As I moved to call an ambulance, she weakly stopped me.

“F-food…”

With her eyes closed, she mumbled it like she was delirious.

In short, she hadn’t eaten anything all day.

“You’re a great cook, huh, Yuu-chan~”

“Flattery’s nice, but don’t you have something to say first?”

“Sorry~ And, like, thanks for worrying about me?”

“Say it to Ren-chan too.”

“Thanks, Ren-kun~ Mwah ♡”

“Ugh.”

“What’s with the ‘ugh’?”

Usotsuki-chan looked a bit hurt by my instinctive recoil, but she still had enough energy to tease. Her condition wasn’t back to perfect, but she was recovering, and her color was much better. Sitting up in bed, she seemed well enough to walk without issue.

By the way, the dinner Yuu whipped up for Usotsuki-chan was simple but looked ridiculously delicious—so much so that I was jealous. Yuu called it “zousui” (rice porridge), but it was more like a soft risotto with bouillon-like broth, salad chicken, and vegetables.

To say “I’ll whip it up quick” and actually pull it off so fast? That’s pro-level skill. I want her to make it for me sometime.

“More importantly, Usotsuki-chan, how do you forget to eat for an entire day?”

“Huh? I was just, like, playing online games all Sunday? That’s the vibe.”

Still, to think she hadn’t eaten or barely slept since last night?

There’s got to be a reason for that—but I don’t buy that the excuse she just gave is the real one.

I’m pretty sure she’s dodging the truth.

“What’s really going on?”

“Nothing~”

Usotsuki-chan brushed off Yuu’s concerned question with a vague reply. Yuu looked a bit annoyed but seemed to decide pressing further was pointless and dropped it.

Sure, Usotsuki-chan’s a liar by nature, but her behavior today is definitely off. Still, I agree that pushing her now won’t get her to open up.

“By the way, Yuu, you seemed pretty comfortable here. Do you come to Usotsuki-chan’s place often?”

“Sometimes so.”

I knew Yuu occasionally hung out with Usotsuki-chan, but apparently, she doesn’t visit her house all that often—only on rare occasions, it was said. The last time they hung out was a month ago, I heard.

They seem like oil and water from their usual interactions, but surprisingly, they’ve kept up their friendship without drifting apart.

“I don’t want to take care of babysitting Tsuki-chan or anything.”

“Haha☆ But you still made me yummy food! I love you, you~☆”

“Well, it’s… it’s because Ren-chan asked…”

True, Yuu’s only helping out reluctantly because I asked, but her natural kindness still peeks through is pretty heartwarming. Is this what they call tsundere? I’m not sure. I feel like there’s still something between Yuu and Usotsuki-chan that I don’t quite know about.

“What’re you staring at?”

Usotsuki-chan finished her dinner a while later. When I looked at her, she suddenly got defensive, glaring at me like some kind of thug. Yikes, scary.

“Where’s your ‘thanks for the meal’?”

“Th-Thanks for the meal.”

When I teased her, she surprisingly complied, saying it obediently.

“Ugh…”

Usotsuki-chan glared at me, looking embarrassed for a bit, then suddenly let out a small groan, as if remembering something. Her face turned bright red, and she buried it in her blanket.

She was squirming—genuinely embarrassed for once, which is rare. …Wait, about what?

“Ugh… So Ren-kun’s seen me totally naked now…”

“You were worried about that?”

“‘That’?”

“Uh, I mean…”

Apparently, she was hung up on me seeing her naked.

“I didn’t see your naked body at all, honest.”

Of course, I did get a full view of Usotsuki-chan’s naked form. But that’s locked away in my mental photo album, and since the album’s contents are private, no problem.

Still, it was definitely an unexpected situation. Having a beautiful girl throw herself at you naked is a kind of romantic fantasy, but I switched gears quick back then, so I didn’t humiliate Usotsuki-chan… probably.

Even now, I’m definitely not imagining what’s under her unexpectedly (?) cute frilly pajamas.

I’m not, I swear.

“Liar. You totally got hard back then, Ren-kun.”

But Usotsuki-chan didn’t buy my excuse.

Worse, she accused me of getting an erection, with zero evidence to back it up.

“I didn’t get hard.”

No way I’m admitting it outright. Who knows what kind of penalty I’d face in this kangaroo court?

“You so did.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t.”

Can we stop this back-and-forth already?

“You definitely did—”

“I definitely didn’t—”

“He didn’t.”

That last “He didn’t” wasn’t from me, and obviously not from Usotsuki-chan either.

“Yeah, yeah, he didn’t—wait, what?”

I was startled by the sudden backup from the sidelines, but Yuu, who’d come to my defense, was cool as a cucumber.

I actually did get hard, though.

To think Yuu, who was right there and probably saw everything, would back me up.

“I got Tsuki-chan off him right away, so Ren-chan didn’t even have time to get… you know.”

With a straight face (and a slightly icy glare), Yuu insisted she was the one who handled Usotsuki-chan.

I was saved… but Yuu’s scary look seemed aimed at me too, sending a chill down my spine.

Both Yuu and I were lying, but Usotsuki-chan, the queen of lies, didn’t seem to see through it. She just snorted, “Hmph…” sounding bored.

“You seem okay now. We’re gonna head out.”

I would’ve liked to stay lounging on the cushion in Usotsuki-chan’s room, but Yuu was clearly ready to leave, so I stood up.

“Eat properly and get some sleep, alright?”

“Got it~”

“Are you really listening, Tsuki-chan?”

“Yup~”

Her vague reply left doubts about whether she was taking it seriously, but Usotsuki-chan stared into space for a few seconds before giving us a perfunctory smile and a goodbye.

“Thanks for today. See ya, both of you.”

That smile looked lonely to me, and I don’t think it was just my imagination.

On the way home, Yuu was oddly quiet, lost in thought.

I noticed her occasionally stroking the single braid draped over her left shoulder, but it seemed unconscious.

Her profile, shadowed against the setting sun, looked like she was either deep in thought or just mulling something over.

Even as the sun set and dusk began to cover the sky, her demeanor didn’t change as we stopped in front of our neighboring houses.

“Yuu?”

“—Fueh!?”

I startled her into making a weird noise and pointed out we’d already reached home.

It’s rare to see Yuu this spaced out.

“We’re here.”

“—Oh. Y-Yeah—”

Yuu seemed a bit flustered but quickly reverted to her usual self, smiling shyly.

“Hey, Ren-chan…”

“Yeah?”

“Ren-chan, you…”

“?”

I waited for her to continue, sensing she wanted to ask something, but she just fidgeted, squirming or zoning out again, acting all suspicious without finishing her question.

“What’s up?”

Curious, I leaned in to look at her face. Was she running a fever? If so, she should rest—thinking that, I reached out.

“—!!”

Yuu’s expression froze, her eyes wide open.

Her body went rigid, and she didn’t move for a moment.

“N-No fever…?”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

Yuu gently took my hand, which had been on her forehead, in both of hers and lowered it.

“You’ve been acting weird. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah… I’m fine. Just thinking about stuff.”

Blushing, Yuu smiled and shook her head at my tilted-head curiosity, saying, “It’s nothing.”

Well, we’re already home, and if something’s wrong, her parents will take care of her.

“See ya tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Yuu and I parted at our front doors, heading into our respective houses. I went through my front door, and Yuu passed through her gate.

“…”

Watching Yuu call out “I’m home!” as she entered her house, I glanced around for no particular reason.

The sky, caught between evening and night, made the area dim. Lights were on in nearby houses, and I saw a few salarymen hurrying home. Yuu’s house was lit up, and in mine, though the curtains were drawn, one room had a light on.

“I’m home.”

I opened the front door and said my greeting, knowing no reply would come—it’s just a habit by now. Without time to feel lonely, I took off my shoes, lined them up, and turned on the hallway, living room, and kitchen lights.

After changing out of my uniform into casual clothes, I started my usual routine of preparing dinner and setting up the bath. The bath’s mostly automated, so it’s just cleaning the tub and surrounding area.

I went through the familiar, brisk chores.

“Dinner’s ready.”

Once dinner was prepared, I carried it upstairs and placed it in front of my sister’s room.

Then I headed back downstairs to do laundry, clean the bathroom, and wrap up other tasks.

By the time I finished, it was past 8 PM. The two and a half hours since getting home flew by.

The grumbling of my empty stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten dinner yet.

Wait, why haven’t I eaten?

Despite not eating, I’d gone ahead and washed all the cooking utensils.

Why didn’t I make something for myself while preparing my sister’s portion?

Am I an idiot or what?

“Cup noodles it is.”

Lately, I’ve been settling for cup noodles for dinner.

I get so caught up making food for my sister that I forget about my own meal. The sad habit of a multitasking failure, I guess.

But that’s not the real reason.

“I’m so over this…”

Eating the same seafood-flavored cup noodles every time is a huge mistake. And to top it off, I still have a stockpile in the pantry. Sure, they were cheap on Am*zon, but buying instant food in bulk was a bad call…

Once I got sick of them, something strange happened. Despite being starving, I started to loathe—no, despise—the cup noodles, and ended up tossing out half of it.

I wasn’t in the mood to touch snacks for guests, or even easy stuff like ham or cheese in the fridge. I strained the cup noodles through the sink’s mesh, dumped the remaining bits into a plastic bag, and threw it in the trash.

In an era where overeating and food waste are hot topics, I’m fully aware I’m doing something problematic. But I was a bit surprised at how naturally I did it. Isn’t it rare for someone to think about starving kids in a moment like this?

After finishing this utterly pathetic dinner, I went upstairs and found my sister’s tray outside her room, empty. Happily, there wasn’t a single scrap left on any of the dishes—a complete clean plate.

“Thanks for eating it.”

It’s funny how, as the one who cooked, those words just slip out naturally. Having someone eat what you made feels like they’re accepting a part of you. My brain must unconsciously process it that way, prompting those words. I just threw out cup noodles, yet here I am grateful for a clean plate—talk about being opportunistic. But I realized later that these are different issues at their core.

Feeling good, I cleared the tray and returned to my room. I pulled out my study materials, ready to hit the books, but I just wasn’t in the mood. Even a quick workout didn’t change that, so I gave up and flopped onto my bed.

The round ceiling light blazed brightly. Shielding my eyes from the slightly dazzling white glow, I stared up at the ceiling.

If I could just drift off to sleep, morning would come quick. Lately, I’ve been able to fall asleep around this time. I could probably do it now.

“—”

Tap.

A faint sound caught my ear, followed by the rattle of my window sliding open. Then, a bit farther away, the dry clatter of a plastic rod rolling on the floor.

And then, whoosh.

A figure, far too cute to be called an intruder, appeared at the edge of my vision.

Stepping onto the window sash, they boldly entered my room.

“Yo~ ♥”

“Yuu…”

It was Yuu.

My fake girlfriend, childhood friend, and next-door neighbor landed lightly in my room, turned, and closed the window. In her hand was something like a pot.

Sure, her balcony is close enough to jump to my window, but it’s still the second floor—dangerous no matter how you slice it. She’s got great athletic skills, but she should be more careful. Skipping the front door to come straight to my room is a risky shortcut that’s not worth the payoff.

“Stop jumping over—it’s dangerous. Ring the doorbell, and I’ll let you in…”

“Yeah, but this is faster.”

Yuu adjusted her slightly disheveled clothes, as if she’d just done some intense exercise.

“Uh, so…”

Wearing a cardigan and a skirt over inner shorts, she tugged at her hem unnecessarily—her underwear wasn’t even visible—then held up the small pot in her hand.

“We made too much at home, so I thought I’d bring some. You’ve already eaten, right?”

“Well…”

Yuu opened the pot’s lid. In her other hand, she held a single pair of disposable chopsticks, likely prepared for this.

A puff of steam rose, carrying the aroma of nikujaga.

Shuffling in her socks, she approached my bed, where I was lying.

“You’ve already eaten, right?”

“Yeah.”

Since Yuu was coming right up to my bed, I had no choice but to sit up.

She held the pot out in front of my face, repeating the same question.

“You’ve eaten dinner already, right?”

“…”

She kept asking, even though I’d confirmed it and nodded several times.

Finally, I caved and told the truth.

“I got sick of cup noodles. I didn’t really eat much.”

“Yay~!”

Her smile bloomed like a flower—probably the perfect description for her expression.

It felt like a setup, but how did she know I hadn’t eaten?

“With what happened to Tsuki-chan, it’s clear people go weird when they don’t eat properly.”

Yuu’s pretty harsh about Usotsuki-chan, huh.

“That was a special case… I think she didn’t eat because she was already off.”

“I’d hate it if you got weird, Ren-chan.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

But the differences between Usotsuki-chan’s situation and mine probably don’t matter much to Yuu.

“If you got unhealthy, wouldn’t that kinda be my fault?”

“Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m your girlfriend, right? Managing my boyfriend’s diet is, like, a given.”

“That’s not how it works.”

Her stance strays far from typical boyfriend-girlfriend dynamics. I’m not being fed by Yuu, after all.

…Well, when it comes to food, I’m pretty much indebted to her, but that’s beside the point.

Her taking responsibility for my health is a different matter entirely.

“Just eat it, okay? It’s getting cold.”

“…Thanks. I’ll dig in.”

And, separate from all that, it’d be a waste to pass up homemade food she brought right to me. I gratefully accepted.

The nikujaga was so delicious it nearly brought tears to my eyes. Warm and warming.

The potatoes and carrots, steeped in savory dashi, released a sweet flavor, melting softly in my mouth. The pork and shirataki noodles added texture, elevating the overall taste. “This is what home cooking’s all about,” I thought, convinced once again. Among dishes that reflect a household’s unique style, nikujaga is hard to mess up, yet achieving the ideal flavor requires surprising trial and error—a deep dish.

On my study desk sat the now-empty pot, freshly emptied of nikujaga. I said my thanks and closed the lid.

Satisfied after a truly happy dinner, I leaned back in my chair.

“That was delicious. Thanks for the meal.”

“Hehe ♥”

Yuu flashed a goofy grin at my honest feedback, her gaze probing.

By the way, Yuu had been standing beside me the whole time, quietly watching me eat.

“So, who made it this time—me or my mom?”

As expected, Yuu launched into a classic boyfriend-girlfriend quiz.

Here it comes, the test.

But this one’s super easy.

“You, right?”

“Correct! …How’d you know? That’s amazing!”

“Who knows?”

“Gosh~ ♥”

When I dodged her question, Yuu playfully nudged my shoulder, looking thrilled.

“Was it the power of love? ♥”

“Maybe?”

“Pfft…”

Keep dodging, and her energy dips a bit. She pouted, looking slightly dissatisfied.

…As for why I got it right, I’m not entirely sure myself.

Probably, my body unconsciously picks up on subtle differences in the aroma and flavor between Yuu’s cooking and her mom’s.

Flavor comes from a delicate balance of saltiness, sweetness, sourness, bitterness, and aroma—hard to put into words. My body remembers that balance, cross-checking it against a mental catalog, I guess. There’s even talk that the brain subconsciously judges food preferences based on nutritional value, so asking me to explain it in words is kind of unfair.

“Thanks for the treat. I’ll wash the pot before returning it. Thanks for today, Yuu.”

“The pot’s fine, but, um—”

I thought Yuu would leave through the window, but instead, she walked the other way and sat on my bed.

“Since I brought you food, I’ve got something to talk about. Cool?”

“What’s with the formal tone? Is it serious?”

“Yeah. Serious.”

Yuu’s smile was soft, but her eyes locked onto me, as if she wouldn’t miss a single move.

When she’s that serious, I have to listen properly. I spun my chair to face her on the bed. But even this setup didn’t seem to satisfy her.

“Come here?”

“?”

I racked my brain, but I couldn’t think of any urgent concerns or anything that rang a bell.

I sat next to her on the space she patted, close enough that a slight lean would make our shoulders touch.

“So, what’s up?”

“Hold on, no rush.”

“…?”

Completely lost on her intentions, my confusion must’ve shown, because Yuu chuckled and said softly,

“You’re really kind, aren’t you, Ren-chan?”

“What’s that out of nowhere?”

Talk about out of left field.

Her words were praising me, but her expression, posture, and tone all felt like she was accusing me.

It’s a weird vibe.

“Even with Tsuki-chan this time—why are you so nice to her?”

“Huh?”

“She’s the kind of girl who’ll casually tell awful lies to people who care about her.”

“What are you talking about…?”

Impatient with my attempt to deflect, Yuu dropped a keyword.

“Tsuki-chan’s school bag.”

“What?”

As I echoed her, my mind vividly replayed Usotsuki-chan appearing before us this morning. At a time when we were definitely late, she stood in front of us, school bag in hand.

“When Tsuki-chan ambushed us, she was in her uniform and carrying her school bag, right? But then she said she wasn’t going to school and took the day off.”

“Yeah, true.”

“Isn’t that weird?”

“How? A few hours from morning to noon is enough time for someone to change their mind, isn’t it?”

The day’s events started with Usotsuki-chan confessing that she’d listed my underwear on an auction site, then admitting she’d lost the password to her seller account—a prank gone too far, followed by a half-hearted apology (?).

We went to her room, confirmed she had my underwear, and searched for the password note.

“If you’re talking about weird, the whole thing’s been weird from start to finish, hasn’t it?”

Yuu began listing suspicious points, counting them off on her fingers.

“The underwear, conveniently placed right in the middle of her room.”

When we visited Usotsuki-chan’s room, we found my underwear carelessly left in the center of the floor.

“The password note we couldn’t find, no matter how hard we looked.”

Even with Yuu’s help, we didn’t find the note anywhere in Usotsuki-chan’s room.

“When we finished searching, she declared she was taking the day off without even pretending to head to school with us.”

Even if her change of heart was genuine, it’s strange that she went to the trouble of wearing her uniform and carrying her school bag just to ambush us on our way to school. Yuu’s point seems to be that Usotsuki-chan wasn’t actually planning to go to school with us but had some other motive.

“You noticed, didn’t you? This is probably just another one of her ‘lies’ to get attention.”

Yuu flat-out called it a “lie.”

“Let’s be real—it’s just a farce, right? This time, she exposed your personal information… your underwear on the internet! So why are you playing along with Tsuki-chan? Why are you being so nice to her?”

“I’m not trying to be especially nice or anything.”

“You’re always nice, Ren-chan.”

That should’ve been a compliment, but, like before, it only sounded like an accusation or sarcasm.

“Are you just going to keep letting her trick you over and over? Are you going to keep cleaning up her messes forever?”

“…”

I went quiet for a moment, and Yuu, perhaps reading something into my silence, leaned closer, her voice soft but pressing, her lips near my ear.

“You’re my boyfriend, right, Ren-chan?”

Her words were a confirmation, her breath warm against my ear, stirring my eardrum with a lingering heat.

The emphasis on “my” wasn’t my imagination.

“You’re my boyfriend ♥”

She repeated it, her sweet voice, teasing my ear, carrying a seductive edge that threatened to unravel my reason.

“Hey, Ren-chan? ♥”

Asking “right?” again, Yuu didn’t look at my face—she was waiting for my words, seeking clear confirmation through my response.

Tap. Her right shoulder pressed against my left.

Leaning into me, she closed her eyes, simply listening.

“You’re misunderstanding something,” I said, sensing her emotions were reaching a dangerous peak, so I interjected to set things straight.

“I think you’re overanalyzing, assuming Usotsuki-chan planned every step of this.”

“Why?”

“Why? Do you really think Usotsuki-chan is that calculating? You know her better than that.”

“…”

Yuu opened her eyes, now locking onto mine without looking away. I stared back, hitting her with logic.

“All those suspicious points you mentioned—her weird behavior. Sure, it looks unnatural depending on how you see it, but it’s just unnatural. It’s not enough to conclude anything definitive.”

Exactly. The points she raised aren’t even circumstantial evidence. Trying to prove a crime with only vague context and no hard proof is shaky at best. Usotsuki-chan’s intentions can’t be pinned down with such flimsy reasoning, and for starters, she hasn’t committed some grave offense.

It’s not a commendable approach, and I don’t want Yuu thinking that way. It’ll only lead to trouble down the line.

“So you’re saying it’s all just a coincidence?”

“Not all of it. But I think a lot of it was driven by chance.”

Take the underwear placed in the middle of her room, for example. We can’t definitively say what her intent was. Maybe she was checking its condition to see if it needed cleaning. Or maybe she found it after stashing it somewhere, got distracted by something else, and left it there. There are countless “maybes” that don’t just vanish.

When piecing together facts, it’s common to mistakenly think you’ve reached the truth just because you’ve eliminated a few possibilities.

Focusing only on information that supports your theory, building a flimsy argument that takes you further from the truth—that’s confirmation bias.

Yuu’s stuck in that mindset right now.

“…But then there’s no way to confirm anything. With her personality, getting the truth out of her is probably impossible…”

“True.”

“‘True’…?”

“I mean, maybe we don’t need to confirm anything.”

“Huh?”

“It’s just my underwear. No need to make a huge deal out of it.”

“That’s—!”

Yuu wasn’t satisfied. She can’t physiologically accept the idea of something belonging to someone she wants to keep to herself—even if I’m just her fake boyfriend—being out there. It’s like a part of me has been exposed.

“Calm down.”

“Ren-chan, I said this morning, but underwear in someone else’s hands—”

“Look, it really doesn’t need to be such a big deal.”

I tried to soothe the frustrated Yuu, pointing to the underwear I’d carelessly tossed into a corner of my room—the same pair I’d reunited with after a month.

“I’ve got the actual item back.”

“…!”

Yuu seemed to catch my meaning.

“The underwear’s back in my hands. All that’s left is to cancel the listing with that cringey description and photo.”

My “no big deal, right?” attitude didn’t fully convince her, and she pushed back, uncharacteristically stubborn.

“But the fact that a photo of your underwear went online…”

Yuu bit her lip. I don’t know what’s driving her so hard, but I could sense her high awareness of personal information protection and an odd fixation on underwear.

Does Yuu have some kind of thing for men’s underwear? If she’d just say so, I’d buy her some… Kidding.

That’s something we could deal with anytime, but her attitude probably stems from something else.

It was interesting to glimpse this unexpected side of Yuu. Still, to wrap this up to her satisfaction, we need to delete that online listing of my underwear, as she wants.

But as for that—

“Yuu, are you hiding something from me?”

“…”

Her insistence this time seems genuine on the surface, but it feels rooted in some strong conviction.

It’s just a hunch from knowing her as a childhood friend, but it’s like she already sees a way out of this.

If I had to say, it’s because she’s been consistently challenging my perspective throughout this.

“…You really did figure it out, huh, Ren-chan?”

“Hm… Wait, what!?”

Yuu pulled a small piece of paper from her skirt pocket and waved it in front of me.

“No way, you actually have it…”

Yuu had somehow gotten her hands on the very thing—the paper with the password for Usotsuki-chan’s flea market app seller account, which she thought she’d lost.

That’s incredible… We already know Usotsuki-chan’s account ID, so with the password, we can log in and cancel the underwear listing, even from our phones.

“So the password note really existed.”

“Ugh… It feels kinda staged…”

Yuu gave me a slightly resentful look, sighed, and admitted defeat.

“It was in a pocket of Tsuki-chan’s school bag.”

“Oh, got it.”

I wasn’t surprised, but as expected, both Yuu and Usotsuki-chan are not straightforward people, I thought to myself with a mix of admiration and resignation.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?”

“That Tsuki-chan was hiding the note in her bag.”

“Hm… Well, kinda…”

To be honest, I had a vague hunch.

Logically, it’s unlikely we wouldn’t find it in her room after searching so thoroughly. That means it was either lost outside or kept somewhere other than her room.

Among the things she might carry with her, there aren’t many places where a small piece of paper could be stored safely, with the writing still legible.

Clothes get washed, and leaving it out in the open risks it blowing away.

So, it makes sense to store it somewhere safe, unaffected by laundry—a natural choice.

Yuu had helped search every drawer in the room, so the remaining unchecked spots, where neither she nor I could look, were limited. The school bag was an obvious candidate.

Even if I’d pinpointed the bag, I couldn’t just rummage through a girl’s stuff. Either way, Yuu would’ve had to check it.

“Why did you hide it until now?”

I asked, curious about her true intentions.

“…Because you’re, like, so careless, Ren-chan…”

Apparently, I was the reason.

Yuu confessed that she’d contributed to making this mess bigger and more complicated, even if it was just between us.

“Men’s underwear can get stolen if you hang it outside to dry, you know?”

“What? Seriously?”

Unlike my sister’s laundry, which is handled carefully, I usually hang my own stuff outside to dry.

Yuu pointed out that even my clothes could get stolen, despite being mine.

I don’t know if that’s true or not… but, well, my underwear did end up in someone else’s hands somehow, so I’d better be more careful.

“…Huh?”

Wait a second.

The flow of this conversation made me realize a glaring, unresolved mystery: how did Usotsuki-chan get my underwear in the first place? The question of its origin.

Why hadn’t I’d ignored it until now? It’s such a critical piece of the puzzle.

The last time I hung out with Usotsuki-chan was two months ago.

I bought that pair of underwear last month. There’s no reason—physically impossible, even—for me to have left it at her place, whatever the circumstances. Also, Yuu and Usotsuki-chan last hung out a month ago, from what I heard.

Is this a coincidence…?

Yuu mentioned that “even men’s underwear can get stolen.”

In the flow of the conversation, I’d unconsciously assumed Usotsuki-chan stole it.

Yet, there’s no solid evidence to support that assumption.

No proof whatsoever to justify that conclusion.

“Ren-chan…? Something wrong?”

“Nah…”

I thought and thought.

I knew I wouldn’t find an answer, but I went over it again, only to confirm there was no answer.

Even staring at Yuu, she just widened her big, round eyes, tilted her head, and gazed back at me with pure, unguarded curiosity.

What was I seeing in those deep, black, abyss-like eyes? All I could see reflected on their surface was my own skeptical expression.

“What’s got you thinking so hard?”