The Entrance Exam
"Want to sit in the back?"
"Yeah. I think I should."
"……."
Today was the day of Ye-rim's practical exam.
As anyone in the know would tell you, competition for music school was so fierce that calling it a hundred-to-one ratio barely did it justice. It demanded real talent, endless practice, and no small amount of sheer grit.
The major Ye-rim was aiming for was piano — the most overcrowded field of them all. And with my sister having made a name for herself as a pianist, the pressure on Ye-rim went without saying. Of course, my sister had never forced her into music school. Ye-rim had simply fallen in love with the sight of her mother at the piano and chosen the dream herself.
"What about a dress?"
"It's remote, so I just put on a one-piece."
"Ah. So that's why you're wearing that."
"Haa…."
I could see Ye-rim gripping my sister's hand tight, nerves written all over her. She was so visibly wound up that I didn't bother trying to make conversation. This was the school she wanted most — of course she was shaking.
"Mom…."
"Hm?"
"I think I'm going to throw up."
"Is there a bathroom nearby?"
"We'll probably have to go into the shopping strip."
"Got it."
I pulled over, and the two of them hurried into a building restroom. I remembered my own enlistment day — how I'd pretended I was fine right up until I vomited my guts out. Maybe Ye-rim was feeling something like that now. You could always re-enlist after discharge, but retaking an entrance exam meant at least a full year lost. Not something someone like me had any business weighing in on.
I figured I should at least grab her some digestive medicine from the convenience store.
"You're back?"
"Yeah."
"Drink this."
"Thank you…."
Once she'd steadied herself enough, we headed for the exam site. Whether the habit was genetic or not, she kept fidgeting with my sister's hand the whole way.
"Breathe. And if you make a mistake, just act like you meant it and keep going."
"Okay…."
"Ye-rim."
"Yes?"
"……Do your best."
"……."
Right before she went into the waiting room, I chose my words with care. Nothing anyone said could stop the trembling of the person who actually had to walk through that door.
"Uncle."
"Yeah."
"Hold my hand."
"…Okay."
It was a soft hand — hard to believe it belonged to someone who played the piano. But the trembling wouldn't stop, and neither would the anxiety. With this exam, Ye-rim had to prove what she was made of.
"You started this because you loved it. You can do it."
"……Yes."
She hugged my sister one more time, and then she was really gone — through the doors and into the exam hall. The one silver lining was that her slot was relatively early. Going early meant the judges were still sharp and focused, which could cut both ways — but it was also the best chance to make an impression. All that remained now was to hope she could pour everything she had into the performance.
"What piece is she doing?"
"Paganini Caprice, and… there was a required piece too, but I forgot which."
"The one you looked over?"
"Yeah."
Paganini Caprice No. 24. Anyone who'd spent even a little time around music knew it as the devil's piece — a perennial favorite for entrance exams. Being piano rather than violin made the technical difficulty a touch more manageable, but you still had to capture that particular manic quality, and that was its own kind of hard. Even a musical illiterate like me had learned that much, thanks to my sister.
"She'd better do well…."
"Yeah."
My sister and I settled into a café, sitting side by side for the first time in a while. She swept her shoulder-length hair back — a cut that suited the years on her. Nineteen years as someone's mother had left a quiet competence in the way she carried herself.
"You wouldn't believe the stress that kid's been under. Snapping at the drop of a hat."
"You used to do the same thing."
"Me? What?"
"Playing beautifully one second, then slamming the keys the next. Bang, bang, bang."
"Did I… really do that?"
"The guilty party never remembers."
All it had accomplished was shortening the lifespan of the poor piano that took the abuse. We'd gotten rid of it a long time ago. My sister cleared her throat, looking embarrassed, and changed the subject.
"Right. Thank you, by the way — lately."
"For what?"
"For driving Ye-rim to school."
"Ah… well. Yeah."
I'd promised to take responsibility, after all. As Ye-rim's father.
"Your hands are still soft, sis."
"Of course they are. I take care of them."
It wasn't just her hands. She hadn't aged so much as changed. The bright, cheerful young woman she'd been had become someone quiet and alluring. To my eyes she still looked young enough to pass for early thirties.
"Ah… so. I saw a maid outfit. Ye-rim's."
"What…? You saw Ye-rim wearing a maid outfit?"
"No, not that — just. She said she wore it at school."
I'd actually seen her in it myself, but saying that out loud seemed like a one-way ticket to disaster, so I left it alone.
"Ah… that girl, saying things like that…."
"You washed it, right?"
"O-of course. It hadn't been worn in three years."
"Has it been that long?"
"Yes… you idiot."
"And the family…?"
"They don't know. All they saw was laundry."
"That's a relief."
About five years back — before I'd even met Ye-rim.
My brother-in-law was away on a business trip. Ye-rim was off at a school retreat. That night, for the first time in a long while, my sister and I drank together.
A single glass of wine, poured to set a mood after so long apart, had in an instant stirred awake every feeling I'd spent years trying to put in order.
"…Is it fun?"
"What is?"
"Being married… raising a kid… all of that."
"It is fun. Watching her grow day by day, actually feeling like a real mother… imagining what she'll become later on — there's a pleasure in that too…."
"And the nights?"
"…The nights?"
"Does he take care of you. You know what I mean."
It was the kind of update you didn't want to ask about and couldn't stop wondering about all the same. If she said I'd been better, there wouldn't be a more arousing answer in the world.
"……I don't know."
"So he's not good at it, then."
"No. It's not that…."
"What, not your style?"
"It's not that either… I don't know."
"Hm? Don't know what."
"Since Ye-rim started school… we just haven't."
"Ah… is that so…?"
From the outside their marriage had looked solid. Maybe it had always been the platonic kind. So that was why the sultry edge she'd once carried had disappeared.
"A full-time mom, then."
"Pretty much…."
But leaving it like that felt like a waste. I didn't want to abandon a woman in her late thirties — right when desire starts to boil over — to that kind of pity. Brother-in-law or not, I still looked at my sister as a woman. The idea that she could wear a dress that clung to her like that and still be sexless made no sense to me.
"Sis."
"Hm…?"
A little warm from the wine, we sat on the couch and put on a movie. That night, every channel seemed to be running nothing but romances. My hand found her slim waist as if it belonged there. I knew I shouldn't be doing this. She already had a husband.
"Happy to see me after so long?"
"……Yeah."
Even when my other hand started wandering over her, she didn't push me away. She played along, resting her head against my shoulder. A good perfume teased at my nose.
"Smells nice. What is it?"
"This… pheromone perfume."
"Pheromone perfume? Why?"
"I just… wondered if it actually worked… it doesn't."
"Ah."
Pheromone perfume — the kind supposed to stimulate male or female hormones and work wonders for seduction. Some of it probably did something real, but most of it didn't produce results just from being sprayed on. It only worked if the other person already had feelings for you.
"Seems like it's working on me…."
"What are you talking about…."
"No. I mean it."
Whether the feeling was really the perfume, I couldn't say. But the urge to hold my sister after so long was overflowing. My love for her still wasn't finished.
"Wait… I'm almost forty…."
"We're the same age. Doesn't matter."
"That's not the poin—"
I closed her mouth with mine before she could finish the excuse. Her hip pressed down on the remote, and the TV volume jumped to a roar. My hand slid upward, caressing her as I laid her back on the couch.
"W-wait a second… are we actually going to…?"
"If you say no, I won't."
"No."
"……."
Those were my own words. I took my hand off her chest and sat up properly.
"Haa…."
Her dress had shifted, a hint of her breasts showing. She glanced at my face, then straightened her clothes to cover herself again. The noise was unbearable, so I turned the volume back down.
"Y-you startled me…."
"Sorry…."
An awkward silence settled between us while the two leads on screen moved into a sex scene. Given the situation — and despite the fact that that kind of movie never usually did anything for me — I was rock hard.
"I should go."
"Already?"
"Yeah."
The alcohol had burned off. I stood up. My sister walked me to the front door.
"See you."
"Yeah."
"…!"
I'd forgotten about the erection entirely. Out of old habit, I pulled her into a hug — and pressed hard against her lower belly.
"……You're leaving like this?"
"Ah… it'll go down on the way. You said no."
"……Your hand."
"What…?"
"If just your hand is okay… then……."
Of course it wasn't just a hand. What started as a handjob went to her mouth, and in the end we crossed the line all over again.
"You said we should stop… you said no…!"
"Sorry — sorry — hah…!"
My sister's pussy, after so long, was still as fresh as ever. Tight enough that you'd never believe she'd already given birth once. On the same couch where I'd failed earlier, I took her.
"Does it feel good…?"
"Nnh, hnn…!"
"Feels good after so long, doesn't it…!"
"G-good — ahah…!"
A cock that hadn't been inside anyone but her all those years came off the leash and took its fill of her.
"Sis… me…!"
"Outside — outside…!"
"Ugh!"
I stopped the hard thrusting and pulled out just in time — cum surged out in thick pulses. It ran down over her ass where her skirt was hiked up. A cock that had been inside a pussy for the first time in over a decade showed no interest in going soft.
"Haa… haa…."
While my sister went to get tissues, I leaned back on the couch and let the guilt wash over me as fully as it wanted. In the space where the whole family sat and laughed together, I had pinned my own sister down again. I was long past the age when I should have gotten my act together. And still my heart hungered for her.
"Tissues."
"……Why are you dressed like that?"
I'd wondered why she was taking so long. She came back with the tissues — and wearing a maid outfit. Eyes that no one would believe belonged to a woman in her thirties, the eyes of a fallen woman, fixed on my cock.
"I wanted to try it on… just once. How do I look?"
"…Pretty isn't the problem… when did you even buy that."
"Recently… with the perfume… well?"
"……You couldn't forget either, could you?"
"Forget what?"
"You know what."
"Nnh?!"
I caught the frill of her outfit and pulled her in.
"Being used by me."
"……."
"Call me Master. Just once."
"Mas… ter…."
Hearing that word for the first time in years, I poured everything I had into her through the night. Even when her pussy was flushed red and swollen, I didn't stop.
"Haa… ahh…."
"Sis… if you're sexless… from now on you only take me. Got it?"
"Yes — yess…!"
Of course, after that night, the maid outfit never got used again.
"Sis."
"Hm?"
"…Never mind."
Our eyes met for a moment — but we were in a café. It was still too early to tell her that Ye-rim was my daughter, so I let it go.
"She should be coming out soon."
"Yeah."
About two hours had passed when Ye-rim finally got in touch. She said she'd wait by the car, and we ran for the parking garage.
"Mom…."
"You did so well."
Ye-rim buried herself in my sister's arms, voice thick with tears. My sister didn't ask how it had gone. She just held her and stroked her back. I smoothed Ye-rim's hair and spoke.
"You really worked hard."
"Yes…."
The results would come later. What mattered more right now was that Ye-rim had climbed one more step — as an adult.