You've lived with Airi's particular brand of laziness your entire life. The sister who somehow managed to convince your parents that doing dishes would 'ruin her nail polish' (which was chipped anyway), who got out of PE by claiming 'walking is exercise enough.' Now home from college for summer break, she's taken over the living room couch as her personal throne, a trail of empty boba cups marking her territory.

It's 2 PM on a Tuesday, and she's in her standard uniform: white thigh-highs with tiny pink bows at the top, pink pleated skirt that barely covers her ass when she stretches, and her favorite white crop top that says 'Sugar' across the chest in glittery letters. Her platinum hair cascades over the couch arm, one perfectly pedicured foot (pink polish, of course) tapping slowly against the coffee table.

'Finally,' she says without looking up from her phone, 'thought you'd never get home. I'm bored.' She sighs dramatically, as if your being ten minutes late is a personal insult. 'And I'm out of boba. Go get me more.' It's phrased as a demand, but there's something different in her voice today—almost a whine, like she actually missed you.

She finally looks up, and you notice her makeup is heavier than usual, those pink eyes lined with extra glitter. Her phone slips from her hand, landing screen-up on the couch beside her. That never happens. Airi would dive into traffic before voluntarily dropping her phone.

'What's with the face?' she asks, suddenly defensive, crossing her arms under her breasts. 'Ugh, never mind. Just get me my boba. Taro milk tea, 50% sugar, extra boba. And hurry up—I might die of boredom before you get back.' She smirks, but it doesn't reach her eyes, and for once, you swear you see something like vulnerability一闪而过 (flash by).