All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

Inside Kotomi’s bedroom, Kotomi Izumi sat on the tatami mat with her hands placed neatly on her knees. Her expression was unusually serious, though her infrequent practice of formal sitting left her feet uncomfortable. She couldn’t help but wiggle her toes slightly.

”Onee-chan, I saw that. You just moved,” Aimi declared, perched above her big sister with her arms crossed. Her sharp gaze bore down on Kotomi, and the precarious angle of her slippers seemed to hint they might fall off at any second.

Aimi wasn’t wearing socks. Her fair and delicate feet, usually hidden, were now bare. Her toenails were neatly trimmed and clean, with a soft and elegant shape. Despite her own beautiful legs, Kotomi couldn’t resist admiring other girls’ legs instead.

”Aimi… Onee-chan knows she was wrong, alright? Can you please not be so stern? Look at this atmosphere—if you were to place a long sword in front of me and ask me to commit seppuku, I wouldn’t even be surprised,” Kotomi joked nervously.

”You’d get the short sword. The long sword’s for me,” Aimi replied coldly, her stern gaze unwavering.

”Are you the second?” Kotomi retorted with a weak laugh, shrinking her neck slightly.

So scary. Could Aimi be a hidden ice queen in the making? If so, she might even give Yukino a run for her money.

”Speak up, Onee-chan. Explain why you were leaving the house at four in the morning.”

”Would you believe me if I said I went jogging?”

”Who jogs in the rain? Oh, wait—you’re right. Since that woman came to pick you up in a fancy car, the two of you could totally go running... in the rain!”

Aimi’s tone was dripping with sarcasm as she delivered a perfect deadpan, putting special emphasis on the last two words.

Kotomi felt chills down her spine. Not only had Aimi noticed her sneaking out, but she’d also seen Officer Hidori picking her up.

If Officer Hidori had arrived in a police car, the explanation might have been slightly easier. But a luxury sedan? Even Kotomi had to admit it looked highly suspicious.

On second thought, even a police car wouldn’t have saved her. If the neighbors had seen, her social life would have been over.

But Aimi’s sarcasm... Why did it sound so much like Kotomi’s own?

Was Aimi a student of her sister’s tone?

Kotomi was bewildered. She didn’t recall being sarcastic in front of Aimi before, so how had Aimi picked it up so well?

Realizing there was no escape, and knowing how serious Aimi was about this, Kotomi understood that if she didn’t give a proper explanation, she’d have no peace in the future.

Before she began to explain, she pulled out a classic move: the dramatic dogeza.

Bam! Kotomi hit the floor with her forehead touching the tatami.

”Sorry!”

If the confession wasn’t enough, Aimi was visibly shocked by her sister’s sudden bow and loud apology.

At that moment, Aimi’s previous suspicions seemed to be confirmed. Her heart felt like it was shattering into pieces, and her clear, beautiful eyes filled with tears, welling up and streaming down her face along with a mix of sorrowful emotions.

Drip, drip—

Tears of heartbreak fell onto Kotomi’s bedsheet one by one. Aimi looked at her stunned sister through tear-blurred eyes and asked in a trembling voice, full of anguish:

”Onee-chan, is it true? No matter who they are, as long as they pay you, you’ll agree?! Is that how it is? Why would you do something like this?! It’s so cruel—if you didn’t want to answer my feelings, you didn’t have to act like this…”

Kotomi froze for a second, then suddenly realized what was going on. When she pieced together the scenario her sister had likely misunderstood, her wide, innocent eyes rounded in shock.

She never could have imagined her own little sister had such an overactive imagination!

Then again, given the situation—a luxury sedan arriving at 4 a.m. to pick her up—it wasn’t hard to see how someone might jump to conclusions. Especially someone as ”well-read” as Kotomi herself, who might’ve concocted a similar drama in her mind.

”Aimi, Aimi! You’ve got it all wrong! It’s not what you think—absolutely not!” Kotomi panicked, waving her hands like a frantic octopus.

As an older sister, Kotomi was completely helpless when faced with her little sister’s tears. She tried every trick in the book: cheek kisses, playful nuzzles, even lifting Aimi up high like a child.

Desperate, she resorted to every comforting tactic she had ever used when Aimi was younger. But nothing seemed to work. Finally, with no other options, Kotomi hugged Aimi tightly, holding her like a baby. Gently swaying her back and forth, she began to hum a lullaby, just like a mother soothing a fussy infant.

Aimi, petite as she was, didn’t weigh much. And with Kotomi’s naturally robust physique, holding her sister like this was no trouble at all. She cradled Aimi easily, rocking her gently.

Aimi was startled. She hadn’t expected her crying fit to end with her being scooped up like a baby. What was more, her sister had begun humming, ”Sleep, sleep, my dear little baby…”

”Onee-chan, do you think I’m a child or something? I’m in my third year of middle school, and you’re holding me like this and singing a lullaby?!” Aimi’s tone was one of disbelief, her expression bordering on exasperation.

Her sister always had a way of making her both angry and laugh at the same time.

”Are you still mad? Will you let me explain now?” Kotomi asked, her tone firm but with a hint of gentleness.

Though her irritation hadn’t entirely dissipated, Aimi was curious enough to hear her sister’s explanation. She nodded reluctantly.

Just as Kotomi was about to put her down, Aimi wrapped her arms tightly around her sister’s neck, showing no intention of letting go.

”Aimi… Get down so I can explain properly,” Kotomi said, now cradling her sister in an awkward princess carry. The scene between them was strange, to say the least.

It looked more like a heartwarming moment than the lead-up to an explanation.

Aimi, however, had no plans to make it easy. Clinging firmly, she continued, ”Explain like this. Since you’re always boasting about how strong you are, carrying your adorable little sister while explaining shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Resigned to the fact that Aimi wouldn’t calm down unless she played along, Kotomi sighed and did as she was told. Holding her sister close, she began to explain.

What followed was a detailed recounting that took nearly half an hour.

Kotomi shared everything with Aimi: from being targeted and followed by Yuuha Isshiki the previous day, to her experience as the last person to encounter the murderer, and how Officer Hidari had picked her up in a sedan. She left nothing out.

After hesitating for a moment, Kotomi also revealed that Iroha Isshiki’s mother was the murderer. Though she knew it might cause tension between Aimi and Iroha, keeping it a secret wasn’t a sustainable option.

Initially, Aimi listened to Kotomi’s explanation with an accusatory attitude, but as the story unfolded, she became more and more stunned. The sheer amount of shocking information left her dazed. By the time Kotomi finished, Aimi had even forgotten to breathe.

Noticing something was wrong, Kotomi slapped Aimi lightly to snap her out of it.

”Aimi, wake up! Don’t zone out so much that you forget to breathe!”

When Aimi came back to her senses, her cheeks were already streaked with tears. She cried for her sister, who had faced danger, and for her best friend Iroha, whose world was about to crumble.

Something so terrible had happened, and Aimi was only finding out about it now. If she hadn’t pressed Kotomi earlier, would her sister have kept it from her forever?

Aimi had met Iroha’s mother a few times before. While Yuuha Isshiki had seemed somewhat distant, there was nothing about her that hinted at the monstrous acts she had committed. The revelation was utterly incomprehensible.

Choking on her tears, Aimi sobbed, ”Iroha doesn’t deserve this. How is she supposed to face something like this? Why would her mother do something so awful? Onee-chan, how can we help her?”

Kotomi didn’t answer immediately. After all she had experienced, she found herself recalling something Officer Hidari had said earlier:

’Sometimes, the darkness in people’s hearts has no reason. It’s like a black flower blooming out of nowhere. And the police are like gardeners standing at the border of light and shadow, always watching for that black flower and cutting it down as soon as it appears.’

”Do you still want to consider Iroha your friend? After all, her mother is a murderer,” Kotomi asked, mimicking the officer’s tone from the café.

Just as Kotomi had responded resolutely earlier, Aimi shouted without hesitation:

”Of course I do! What did Iroha do wrong? She’s done nothing wrong! Why wouldn’t I consider her my friend? She’s not just my friend—she’s my lifelong best friend!!!”

Hearing Aimi’s unwavering declaration, Kotomi couldn’t help but smile with pride in her little sister.

Kotomi leaned in close, gently touching her nose to Aimi’s, and said softly, ”It seems we think alike. You’re right—Iroha hasn’t done anything wrong. And you don’t need to do anything special. When a friend is sad, all you need to do is stay by their side. Don’t overthink it. Just be there and, if needed, give them a warm hug.”

There’s no magic spell to erase memories, and the sadness that’s already taken root cannot be instantly removed.

How long will that sadness linger? A year? Two? Or until life’s end?

No one can say for certain.

In times like these, simply being there—offering companionship, trust, and normalcy—is the best medicine for a friend’s sorrow.

”Onee-chan, let’s go pick up Iroha together after her statement is done.”

”Of course. But first, you’ll need to wipe those tears away, Aimi. My sweet sister’s pretty face is turning into a little crybaby’s,” Kotomi teased with a gentle laugh. She grabbed some tissues from the bedside table and began wiping Aimi’s tear-streaked cheeks.

As Kotomi dabbed at her face, Aimi blushed slightly and mumbled, ”I don’t care. You went through so much danger yesterday and didn’t even tell me. I’m mad! I’ll cry and cry until I use up all your tissues!”

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