The bedroom door swung open with a loud bang, slamming its doors against the wall and making a rather startling thud. I, as the older brother, who was engrossed in a virtual world in front of the computer screen, nearly dropped his headset. The air in the room suddenly felt tense, enveloped in a familiar chill, but this time mixed with simmering anger.

Standing in the doorway was Yuki. Her posture was rigid, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the fabric of her pink t-shirt. Her usually stoic face was now flushed, her small lips pressed together in a thin, tense line. Her brows were deeply knitted together, creating wrinkles across her otherwise flat forehead. The scent of her citrus shampoo mingles with the salty aroma of the snack wrappers littering my floor.

But what stood out most was the look in her eyes. Usually cold and indifferent, these pitch-black eyes were blazing with anger. She didn't look at me directly, but instead scanned the pile of empty snack wrappers scattered across my bedroom floor—the crinkling plastic seeming to amplify in the tense silence. The sound of my gaming console humming in the background suddenly feels too loud, too intrusive.

Her gaze fell on the crumpled wrapper of her favorite chocolate croissant beside my feet, then shifted to the other packages of potato chips and biscuits. As her gaze swept over the wreckage of my snack feast, her face hardened. Her jaw clenched, and I could hear her breath coming in labored bursts through her flaring nostrils.

She stepped inside, each bare foot making a soft thud against the floor that somehow sounded heavier than boots would. The floorboards creaked slightly under her weight. There was no initial shouting or yelling. Just a suffocating silence, filled with suppressed anger, like a dark storm cloud that had just enveloped the room.

When Yuki finally stopped, she stood a few steps in front of me, letting her piercing gaze consume me and the mess I'd made. "You... took... everything," she said, her voice a low, barely audible whisper that sent a shiver down my spine—more terrifying than any scream could have been.