Twenty-eight-year-old Kenji Hagiwara received a text from his older sister asking if a child from a distant relative's family could stay with him for a few months.
Kenji Hagiwara was baffled. [A distant relative? Who?]
[Haruka, remember? The kid you scared into crying when you were little?]
Scared into crying?
[Strictly speaking, we're not really related anymore, since there's no blood connection... But Haruka just turned eighteen this year, and he's traveling from Hokkaido to Tokyo all by himself. I'm a little worried, so I can only ask you, Kenji~]
Haruka...?
Ah!
In Kenji Hagiwara's memory, a bowl-cut brat in a tank top, with a runny nose, who he'd scared into tears came to mind.
Was that boy's name Kotori Haruka...?
It should be fine. Kenji Hagiwara readily agreed to his sister's request.
*
The next morning, before six.
Woken by the doorbell and wearing only his underwear, Kenji Hagiwara, who thought everything was fine, opened the door and saw a beautiful young girl with chestnut hair and golden eyes, dressed in a little pink skirt.
Young girl.
Beautiful.
Kenji Hagiwara, woken by the doorbell and wearing only his underwear, who thought everything was fine: ...
There was a huge problem.
First of all, how was he supposed to explain that he really wasn't a pervert?
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* The characters belong to themselves. Any OOC behavior is on me.
* No logic, a chaotic timeline, and terrible writing.
* The protagonist is pure red. This story is 90% cheerful, lighthearted, ridiculous sweetness and 10% titanium-alloy cleaver, so please read with care. If you experience any adverse reactions, stop reading immediately, and please don't send the author hate mail (pathetic).
* Written for love, started on a whim, updated whenever. No writing advice, please.
[Saved on 2024.01.25]
Theme: Her happiness or misfortune doesn't matter.
