To his surprise, Yui laughed. "I'm not mad. Actually, I'm a bit flattered. But next time, just ask, okay?"

The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep out the afternoon sun. Akira's eyes adjusted slowly, revealing posters of bands he had never heard of, a desk cluttered with books and makeup, and a bed covered in a mess of blankets and pillows. It was... unexpectedly Yui.

He learned a lot about his sister in those moments. She was more complex, more profound, than he had given her credit for. There were worries and dreams, disappointments and hopes, all poured onto the pages of her diary. Akira realized that he didn't know his sister as well as he thought.

The reason was simple: Yui had made it clear, more than once, that her room was off-limits. Akira respected her wishes, mostly. But curiosity got the better of him one afternoon when the house was quiet, and Yui was out at a club with her friends.

Yui entered her room, calling out, "Akira, is that you?" Her voice was laced with surprise and a bit of concern.

Akira froze, half-hidden behind the door. "Uh, I... I was just looking for something," he stammered, stepping out from his hiding spot.

The hours slipped by unnoticed. Akira became so engrossed in her sketches and writings that he didn't hear Yui come home. The sound of her key in the door was like a cold splash of water, snapping him back to reality. Panicked, Akira tried to restore the room to its original state but ended up knocking over a pile of books in his haste.