While Taking Care of My Shut-In Little Sister, I Somehow Ended Up Ejaculating Inside a Beautiful Girl - Chapter 54: A Shadow Blocking the Light (2) [Third-Person Perspective]

Chapter 54: A Shadow Blocking the Light (2) [Third-Person Perspective]

“Those kids who bullied you? Ren-chan took care of them right away, didn’t he? He was so careful, even handling the aftermath perfectly. The bullies left school, the obstacles were gone, and you could’ve had a normal school life. There’s no reason for you to stay locked in that room.”

Yuu, standing before the sealed door, raises her voice slightly despite keeping it low, her words sharp with accusation. What drives such fervor?

[…]

A fateful encounter, a changed environment, a resulting evolution.

A dialogue between one who embraces change and one who seems to reject it.

No voice answers hers.

—Yet.

[“You know what my brother has done all this time. Impressive.”]

In the pitch-dark hallway, a loose-leaf paper slides under the door, its bottom edge bearing a handwritten message in ballpoint pen.

No matter how well Yuu knows the house, darkness would make reading impossible.

Yet she can read it, thanks to an LED flashlight’s beam illuminating the text through the same gap, meticulously lighting the words.

The light, likely from a slim pen-like device, is strong but only covers a small area of the paper visible in the hallway.

But Shiori Hoshimiya seems to know Yuu’s reading speed—her eye movements, even unseen—moving the light swiftly to match, assisting Yuu in reading the message.

“…What a hassle. If you’re going to be that considerate, why not just face me and talk?”

Yuu, her face a Noh mask, glares at the paper, spitting out her words. This one-sided written exchange feels unnecessary, and she’s exasperated by Shiori’s thoroughness.

Not needing to turn on the hallway light is considerate, but now it just grates on her nerves.

The paper retracts, then reappears.

[“I thought you, Yuu-san, would fully understand me even this way.”]

“Don’t lean on me like that.”

Yuu feels a fleeting sense of progress, finally engaging Shiori, even if through writing.

But the light’s movement, syncing with her eyes, stirs faint irritation as she presses on aggressively.

—Then.

Damn it, Yuu thinks, biting her lip in regret, cursing her carelessness. If she’d known there’d be a response, she’d have brought her phone. Recording this could’ve been a trump card later.

[“Let me say this first: if you try to wake my brother, record this exchange, or tell him about it, I’ll resort to my final measure without hesitation.”]

“Final… measure?”

[“You don’t want my brother’s heart completely broken, do you, Yuu-san?”]

“…”

When was the last time Yuu felt her thoughts so clearly read, her mind laid bare? She ponders this faintly.

It’s like the sharpness she felt from Ren when she first became aware of him—a proof of Shiori’s acuity that only fuels Yuu’s irritation.

She’s supposed to be the one who’s marked Ren most intensely, and been marked by him in return. Yet, facing Shiori, she feels an inexplicable inferiority.

It’s almost like kinship hatred, but for Yuu, it’s closer to raw jealousy. Meeting Ren changed her, and she’s changing him—mutual influence, a real, special bond.

“…But, really? If you want your precious brother’s attention, wouldn’t coming out be better?”

[…]

Yuu’s provocative jab is met with a pause, then an unexpected response.

[“By the way, you mentioned earlier, ‘after he leaves home.’”]

“So what?”

Yuu’s body twitches slightly.

It’s about the future.

Their future.

She senses it instinctively, bracing herself.

[“My brother’s life will never drift far from mine.”]

“…Will it, now?”

The words of a girl two years younger carry an unsettling confidence.

As if everything’s gone according to plan.

[“Anyway, I should thank you. Thanks for taking my brother’s virginity. Left alone, he’d probably have stayed inexperienced until college.”]

“…College, huh.”

Yuu’s expression, previously a blank mask, twitches at the eyes.

“As if Ren-chan would just naturally get a girlfriend in college—like you know he will.”

The paper retracts, then reappears.

[“In the end, my brother can’t abandon me. He’ll choose me.”]

“So you’re assuming that girlfriend will be you.”

[“Yes. We’re not blood-related, so there’s no ethical or genetic issue with that kind of relationship.”]

“…You’ve got it all figured out. That’s low.”

Shiori’s loose-leaf, written horizontally, deviates from standard—messages progress upward from the bottom, the visible paper growing slightly with each exchange.

She seems intent on communicating this way, unwavering.

“Right now, I’m Ren-chan’s girlfriend. What do you think about that?”

[“As I said, he’ll choose me in the end.”]

“That won’t happen.”

[“It’s already decided.”]

“I won’t let it.”

[“It’ll happen eventually.”]

“…”

Yuu wants to snatch the paper and show Ren everything, forcing him to rethink his sister—but Shiori’s handwriting mimics Yuu’s.

How did she learn Yuu’s writing quirks? It doesn’t matter now. Yuu, frequenting the Hoshimiya home, leaves traces in Ren’s room.

Showing Ren this paper wouldn’t be solid proof—it might make her seem unhinged. Strong-arm tactics won’t work.

Ren might believe her, but it’d only stress him out.

Ren’s so fragile about family—his sister’s mere jests could shatter him, his defenses like tofu. Adding to his family-related stress would worsen his impotence (or slow his erections), no gain for Yuu.

For now, Yuu prioritizes understanding Shiori’s mindset, continuing the exchange. Raising her own value to Ren, fostering his dependence, outweighs trapping Shiori. With countermeasures likely in place, reckless moves are risky. She’ll keep filling the outer moat, as always.

“…I want to know. How long do you plan to chain Ren-chan?”

[“Chain?”]

The exchange continues, Yuu’s words met with Shiori’s paper sliding under the door.

“If you’re factoring in his college plans, you intend to keep him in this hellish life through his student years?”

[“Yes. It’s also a punishment for him.”]

“…What?”

Punishment—Yuu, unaware of any reason Ren deserves it, flashes genuine anger.

[“Because he got distracted by you.”]

“……!!”

The reason for Shiori’s seclusion, for making Ren suffer, is so unfair. Insane.

[“I loved him first.”]

—That lone sentence sounds achingly lonely.

“…!? That doesn’t—!!”

But Yuu can’t falter or be swayed.

There’s no guarantee Shiori’s feelings are true.

What matters is Yuu’s love isn’t selfish—she and Ren are already mutual.

Above all, claiming love while harming the other’s heart and body is unacceptable.

It’s not just self-centered—it disregards the other.

It’s fundamentally different from the warm, passionate love Yuu feels.

“That’s wrong…!”

It’s not love.

It’s just selfishness.

Yuu pleads her case.

“It’s not about who came first. It’s about mutual feelings…! Caring for each other, being cared for…!”

[“As expected from the one who seduced my brother. You sure talk differently. His straying to others did start with you back then.”]

“You…!!”

The words feel detached, but the handwriting’s now scrawled, rushed, reflecting Shiori’s emotions beyond the content.

Something dishonest, twisted.

[“You were the one who interfered first.”]

Something festering.

[“In that sense, Yuu-san, you’re just as guilty. Do your best to cheer him up.”]

“You scum!!”

Yuu, startled by her own outburst, clapped both hands over her mouth.

Calming herself, she lowered her voice to plead.

“That’s… that’s just wrong! Why should loving someone lead to punishment…!?”

Shiori claimed it was Ren’s fault—and Yuu’s too.

That because of them, Ren must suffer.

Such an unfair, unjust justification for abuse.

Shiori’s final conclusion.

Something inside Yuu snapped—quietly, fiercely, intensely.

“…That’s not loving Ren-chan.”

Her emotions churned, boiling, condensing.

“Your ‘love’ is just liking what’s convenient for you.”

How come Ren’s surrounded by such awful people? Yuu thought, ignoring her own role, seething.

“I won’t let you have him, Shiori-chan. Never.”

[…]

Shiori’s all-seeing tone, with hints of a meticulous plan peeking through, revealed her true nature. Yuu recognized her as a true enemy.

[“So, are you satisfied now?”]

“…”

Yuu’s silence met with a gaze cold enough to kill, like absolute zero, fixed on the door.

The paper slid back with a swish, swish, reappearing with a final line.

[“That’s all you wanted to know, right? Then we’re done for today.”]

“Our talk’s not over.”

[—]

“Hey, hold on!”

[—]

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

[—]

“…(Tch)”

Yuu let out a faint tongue-click, barely parting her tongue from her palate, and turned on her heel.

The greatest obstacle was, as expected, within Ren Hoshimiya’s circle.

His closest—his family by registry.

That day, Yuu clarified one thing.

Shiori Hoshimiya, infiltrating and eroding Ren’s core.

A mental cancer.

*

Click. Yuu opened Ren’s bedroom door, slipping back beside her sleeping beloved. She gently moved her ponytail—the hair he loves—above the pillow.

Warming her chilled heart and body in the cozy blankets.

“Maybe… I should just do it…”

Her murmured words, chilling to any listener, held an unspoken “what” and “how” known only to her.

No room for interference remained, but the one who could point that out was snoring beside her.

“…”

Yuu shifted in the blankets, turning fully toward Ren.

His peaceful face and steady breaths matched his naturally tidy sleeping posture, as if sleeping calmly was a survival skill.

So easy to cuddle, she thought, pressing herself closer, feeling a small joy.

Loving his neat sleeping habits was a “weird” kind of love, but to Yuu now, every part of him was just “love.”

“Ren-chan…”

His warmth heated her body. His face warmed her cheeks. His scent made her womb ache, her heart leap.

This maddening, overflowing love felt unreturned, frustrating her endlessly.

Normally, such passion might cool over time, but with Ren, it only grew stronger, deeper.

“Why… do I love you so much…?”

Even she felt puzzled, but loving Ren brought comfort, pride, and a euphoric intensity that drove her wild inside.

Even so—she knew her own abnormality and, fearing his rejection, had restrained her feelings.

She’d hidden her uniqueness to fit society.

“Why do I love you this much, Ren-chan…?”

Pure love—so strong, deep, beautiful, yet violent—clashed with societal norms, stirring unconscious questions.

Her frustration with unyielding reality deepened her love, filling and shaking her heart’s vessel.

She hadn’t fully conveyed her love’s depth, its ache, its true passion.

The stress of it gnawed at her—had always gnawed.

“…Maybe I should just get pregnant…”

Words that would shock and repel any listener slipped out casually.

Pregnancy. The simplest, most direct way to arouse Ren or prove her love’s depth. A word she’d tossed out jokingly before him countless times.

It wasn’t a joke. She didn’t want it to stay one forever.

“Ren-chan…”

Yuu pressed her breasts and lower abdomen tightly against him.

Her hands roamed his chest, then groped his crotch.

Finally, she reached for her own.

“Nin…shin… not… yet… Yuu…”

“!?”

Ren’s pained sleep-talk, like a nightmare, made her eyes widen.

Her hand froze mid-reach.

“Ka…zoku… keikaku…”

“—!”

Family planning.

A future for happiness.

His answer, caring for her and their future, came at the perfect moment.

“…I know. I’ll hold off on pregnancy for now.”

Yuu replied.

“Good… then…”

Ren’s face relaxed, his breaths steady again.

“…Hehe♥ Ren-chan… so cute♥”

His carefree demeanor only deepened her love.

—But for her, his sleep-talk wasn’t just endearing.

“…Wait for me, Ren-chan.”

With a chillingly blank expression.

“By the end of this three-day weekend, I’ll definitely fix your impotent dick.”

…She muttered to herself.