I Caused an Accident
How long had I been bickering back and forth with my sister?
Once she realized she'd wasted far too much time at my place, she immediately hauled over a massive delivery box and a roll of packing tape, setting them down right in front of me.
"Enough with the bullshit. Get in the box already. If we're late for dinner, there's really no saving us. You know better than anyone that Dad is scariest when he hasn't eaten."
"Yeah, hungry Dad is terrifying. His nerves are shot and you never know what he'll do next. Fine, I'll get in quick."
I grumbled as I climbed into the box and crouched down, then carefully tossed a question at my sister while she started sealing me in with packing tape.
"By the way, Sis, something just occurred to me. Mind if I ask?"
"Spit it out. We're short on time."
"If I need to buy even a little time from Dad, what's the best way to do it? I want the safest method possible."
If I did nothing, the second that box got unboxed I'd be snatched up by Dad's pot-lid-sized hands and dragged straight into the Room of Truth.
Once I got hauled into that room with no one able to stop him, I'd get beaten like a dog on the hottest day of summer and subjected to full mental re-education.
I'd screwed up plenty, so I'd probably get put through the wringer for days on end, right?
That would mean zero time to look at fox kemono pics or manga, which would be a catastrophic loss for my entire life.
You think that sounds ridiculous? That I could just wait a few days and binge everything later?
What if, in those few days, some insanely hot fox kemono manga dropped, got hit with a warning, and got taken down?
And what if that taken-down fox kemono manga turned out to be a new all-time favorite?
What if it was a masterpiece that guaranteed at least ten happy times?
I might end up shedding tears of blood and hating Dad forever.
So.
"I can't let Dad put me through mental re-education, Sis. Please, just tell me a way."
"For free?"
"You've got way more money than me. What's with the free talk? Just help your little sibling out for once."
I begged with sparkling, hard-to-refuse eyes. My sister seemed to mull it over for a moment before slowly opening her mouth.
"Well... first you just need to secure Mom somehow. Once you've got Mom as a hostage, Dad turns from a monster into a meek little lamb."
"I already know that. But the process of taking Mom hostage is the problem, right? The second I get unboxed, I'll get dragged into the master bedroom before I can even get near her. There's no way!"
"Exactly, so you need a way to stop Dad for even a second. Either prepare some earth-shattering line that shakes his mental state, or put someone else up as a substitute to block him."
My sister grinned and leaned in close, whispering quietly.
"How about just bringing Hyeok-jin along? He's your reliable boyfriend, isn't he?"
"Don't fucking start! Why the hell would I be dating that bastard?"
Though lately he has seemed reliable, and kind of cool-looking...
"I'm a guy! That bastard's a guy too! That kind of relationship can't even exist!!!"
"But you're a girl right now, aren't you? Plenty of possibility there, no?"
"Say something that makes sense! I'd rather boob with my sister and her solid abs than do anything with that bas— KEHEK!!!"
My sister slammed her fist down hard on the top of my head again, silencing me, then punched a few air holes in the side of the box before sealing it completely shut.
"From now until I say it's okay, you shut the hell up. If you open your mouth, I go straight to the police station and you go straight to a research lab. Got it?"
"..."
"I said, got it."
"Yesh."
A moment later I felt a floating sensation as my sister must have lifted the box.
At the same time I heard the door lock open, and fresh outside air began flowing in through the air holes.
Completely different from the damp indoor air that only got ventilated once every few months—crisp, refreshing outdoor air.
I got addicted to that freshness and took a huge breath in.
"Cough cough... kheup...?"
I ended up coughing from the cigarette smell that came in through the air holes.
...I'm fucked.
What if the person who was smoking reports us?
They'll drag me to a lab, dissect my soft, fluffy, luscious tails one by one, run every experiment imaginable, and film some tragic dark story with me, right?
I wrote an entire dark novel in my head out of pure terror on the way there, but thankfully nothing happened. I heard a door open and felt myself get tossed onto a seat.
Then the sound of the car starting up, followed by my sister's irritated voice.
"You fucking bitch! What the hell are you doing coughing in there? We almost got caught!"
"I couldn't help it! Do you have any idea how rough it is for a body that's never smelled cigarette smoke once to suddenly take a hit of it?"
How to even describe it?
Like walking into a burning house and sucking in the smoke with all your might?
My senses were so hypersensitive that the cigarette smell registered exactly like fire smoke, so barely holding back the cough had been the absolute best I could manage.
I growled, voice trembling with injustice, and my sister tapped the box a few times as if telling me to cut it out.
"No matter how you look at it, this bitch isn't a nine-tailed fox—she's a Chihuahua. Personality's pure yappy-dog tier. How is this a gumiho?"
"At least compare things that can be compared! Chihuahua tails aren't this fluffy or luscious—"
"Just shut up already, you tail fetishist!"
My enraged sister shook the box like crazy with her right hand to make me quiet down, and I had no choice but to abandon my lecture on fox-tail studies and clamp my mouth shut.
The motion sickness was so bad that if I spoke I'd hurl, and then the precious tails I'd spent two hours carefully grooming would get contaminated with vomit for sure.
And so the awkward silence returned.
My sister must have hated that awkwardness, because she spoke up again—serious, yet careful.
"Hey... are you planning to keep living like this?"
"You told me to shut up and now you're picking a fight? You got a problem with how I live?"
"Well, to be precise I don't really want to interfere. It's just... a little bothersome, I guess."
"What's bothersome? The hikikomori lifestyle? Or the part where I draw nudes and snicker to myself?"
As long as I'm satisfied, isn't that enough?
Besides, living like this helps other people—it doesn't hurt anyone.
Is providing fap material to others some kind of problematic life? I don't think so.
I tilted my head and stared at her. My sister let out a sigh and shook her head.
"Never mind. I said something pointless. You're living satisfyingly even if you're not living well—pointing it out would be weirder."
"There wasn't anything to point out in the first place, was there?"
"That's not it. In your case there's so much to point out that I can't even start."
My sister tapped the box and told me to grow a conscience. That got my spiteful side going.
"So, Sis, when are you getting married? Found anyone decent yet?"
"You fucking bitch?!"
I got a merciless fist punched straight through the box for that little extra comment.
"Kyaaang!!!"
...Damn sister. This is exactly why you don't have a boyfriend.
I considered boldly explaining the reason she couldn't get a boyfriend, but murderous intent was flickering in her eyes, so I buried that reason deep in my heart and didn't open my mouth again until we reached the family home.
"We're here. Once we're inside the house I'll knock twice on the top of the box, so stay quiet until then, okay?"
"Sis, can't you help me just one more time?"
"If you're thinking of using the Sister Shield, abandon hope. I don't particularly want to get mental re-education myself for trying to stop him."
"I'll pay you a hundred thousand won—no, two hundred thousand! Please block him!"
"I wouldn't do that even for a million. You think I'm crazy enough to stop Dad?"
"Weren't you already a crazy bitch, Sis?"
"..."
The silence told me my sister's help was completely out of the question.
I hadn't expected much, but it was still a little disappointing.
If she'd helped, this would've been over easy.
In the short time from my sister's car to the family home, I rapidly searched for a way to stop Father's brutal hands.
A method to shake Father's rock-solid mental state...
If I use 'that line,' I could turn even Father's mental state to powder for a moment, right?
Having found my method, I smiled wickedly. My sister heard the laugh and asked me, trembling with unease.
"You're not thinking something weird, are you? Please just end this normally, okay?"
"It's fine, Sis. One single sentence can stop Father, even if only for a second."
I might die afterward, though.
When I said it so confidently, my sister whispered back in a voice half curiosity and half worry.
"You're scaring me even more by sounding so sure, you little shit. Just give me a tiny hint before you say it to Dad. What the hell are you planning to tell him?"
"You'll find out if you wait a little. Hold out until the finale."
I refused to answer. In the end my sister gave up on getting a reply and must have already arrived at the front door, because she started punching in the door-lock password.
A moment later came the sound of the door opening, and at the same time Father's rough, gravelly voice.
"You brought her? Set it down in the living room."
Just hearing Father's voice made goosebumps rise, but I forced myself to stay calm and waited for him to unbox the delivery.
And then, right after the box got unboxed, the instant Father's brutal hand was about to touch my golden hair—
I put on a wistful expression and said, in a voice only Father could hear:
"Father... I caused an accident."