The Greatest Shut-in in History Stutters Even in Front of Family
Summer break runs through August 31, and today is August 19. In other words, my first summer vacation of high school has less than two weeks left.
Adults always say that of all your school days, the memories from high school last the longest. The more I turn it over, though, the more it sounds like a lie. It was like this in my past life, and it's like this now—rolling around the house every single day, what memories am I even supposed to be making? The streams might turn into memories, sure, but those aren't exactly the memories of a high school student. Is a shut-in loser not even allowed those?
"Uehhh."
All I'd done today was lie in bed and loaf in the breeze from the air conditioner, and already more than two hours had slipped away. So this was what people meant by killing time. It didn't help a single thing. And this was the summer vacation a super-beautiful high school girl was spending? Summer vacation was supposed to be friends gathering to mutter about the heat, and then—cut, out of nowhere—everyone screaming that they'd reached the ocean and diving in wearing swimsuits. Failing that, you went to a festival and watched the fireworks. Every bit of otaku knowledge I'd trusted had been a lie.
Still, I'd been streaming steadily, so I was living a pretty full life, wasn't I? Which meant it was fine to loaf in bed a little longer.
Ding!
"Hmm?"
I checked the screen at the sudden chime. Mom. I was sure she'd said she wouldn't be back for three days. Had something happened? I unlocked the phone.
That was all it said. Ah. Now that I thought about it, it really was about that time.
"I'm home."
Evening came. I was sitting on the bed, a little tense, when the front door opened and my sister's voice reached me. I let out one steadying breath, then quietly stood, opened my door, and stepped out.
"W-welcome home, Sis."
"Yeah."
At my greeting she turned, looked at me, gave the slightest nod, and went into her own room. Nearly a year since we'd last met, and I still couldn't feel a shred of emotion from her.
Her Korean name is Yeon Jia. Her Japanese name is Kayano Yuki. My older sister, who hardly needs an introduction—and right now she's twenty-five, a full nine years older than me. If you count my past life, though, I'm forty, so maybe I'm actually the older sister.
Well. If I had to describe her, she's someone like me and the exact opposite of me at the same time. That's probably the most accurate way to put it. For one thing, she's much taller. I barely clear 150 centimeters, but I'm sure she said she's 172, and her figure matches: firm, healthy, slender. Long black hair tied back in a ponytail, and eyes the same deep brown as Mom's. The shape of them is sharp, but that doesn't hurt her looks at all. If anything, it feels like a weapon.
Right. If I'm a super-beautiful girl with a cute air about me, she's a super-beautiful woman with a cold one. People said that even standing still she looked like a picture, and she really does work as a reader model for a famous magazine. Her personality, though, is about as blunt as mine, with an even stronger chill to it. Unlike me, she has plenty of friends, and she doesn't stutter when she talks.
Huh?
Thinking about it objectively, we aren't similar-and-opposite at all. She's just an older sister whose specs crush mine, isn't she? Unbelievable. Today I gained one more piece of knowledge I didn't want.
"Uh, Sis. Did you eat before you came?"
"...I didn't, so I'll wash up and we can eat together."
"Okay..."
Honestly, I found my sister a little hard to be around. It made sense. Nine years between us, and we never really managed a proper conversation when she came home. It had been the same even before my past-life memories returned. I don't much like talking to begin with, and she's blunt by nature. Conversation was never going to start between sisters like us. If anything, watching her come back after so long and walk straight into her room without a word made me wonder whether she disliked me.
Well. To a sister outstanding enough to model for a famous magazine, I must look like an incompetent shut-in little sister with a communication disorder who can't do anything. Obvious, if you think about it. Deep down, she's probably embarrassed of me. Sorry for being a worthless little sister with nothing going for her but her looks...
On the internet they say the older one in a big age gap dotes like crazy, so that must only happen when you're already somewhat close. I feel like we were closer when I was much younger. How did it end up like this? I don't know. It must all be my fault.
"...I heard you started that virtual ontuber thing."
We were sitting at the table, eating, when she suddenly brought it up.
"Ah, yes."
"You managing?"
"I-I think I am."
"...I see."
Talking with her always felt like this. She was usually the one to start a topic, but maybe because my communication skills were lacking, a few answers and it was over. She never asked anything past that. She just nodded, finished whatever she was doing, and went back to her room. We didn't call or text, either. Very occasionally she would message to ask what I wanted and buy it for me, but most of our time as sisters was furnished with silence.
"That was good."
"O-okay. You can go ahead."
"Mina."
"Yes?"
"...No. It's nothing."
With that, she rose from the table, cleared the dishes, and went into her room. Yeah. There was no way she would watch my stream. Someone who modeled for a famous magazine wouldn't have the slightest interest in this industry. In pure normie aura, she was above Tateyama.
I let out a sigh. Asking her to watch would just be a bother, wouldn't it? Even so, I wanted to show her that I was working hard at something, in my own way. The chance that she might dislike me scared me, though. If I asked and got a bad reaction, I didn't want to see it, so I hesitated. Awkward or not, I like my sister. She's that pretty, that cool, and above all she's my one and only precious older sister. Unlike a bond that might someday break, the fact that the same blood runs through both of us will never change. That was why the thought of asking, and being refused, frightened me even more.
"Uh, um. I-I'm not sure I should say this, but this game is d-dogwater..."
If I had to name one of the things I liked best about being reincarnated, it was definitely not getting 3D motion sickness. In my past life, even when I found a fun game, a 3D one usually meant I couldn't properly enjoy it.
"No, n-no matter how I think about it, this is not my skill being the problem!"
"Then are you saying you guys can c-clear this stage?"
"Uwaaah...!"
The Truth of Ragnarok was a third-person, over-the-shoulder action RPG, an indie game that had come out last month. Ragnarok, the end of Norse myth, hid a secret, and the hero—Thor's son, Magni—set out on a journey to uncover it. Story aside, the balance was bizarre no matter how I looked at it. Why did Mjolnir, a hammer, have better hit detection than Laevateinn, a greatsword? When I used it, the hitboxes were complete garbage. Why did a clean parry still dump so much damage on me that I had to drink one of only five potions? The bosses were disgustingly strong on top of that, their HP was absurd, and there was a limit on how many times you could dodge in a single stage. This was way too unfair.
"I'll stop h-here for today..."
Pushing any further would only grind my mental state into dust. Knowing when to quit, and quitting fast—that was one of my strengths.
"P-probably next week?"
And somebody do something about that bratty little-girl act. When you people do it, that isn't a cute brat—it's a pig-brat. That kind of thing only works when an actually cute girl does it, not otaku uncles like you.
"Mmm. W-want to talk a little before I go? Anything you're c-curious about?"
Three hours had already passed since I started the stream, but I didn't have any other plans anyway.
"Th-thanks for the red Hyperchat, Rogue. ...A f-fun story with my family?"
Old memories, I had plenty. Recently, though, there really hadn't been a single one. Mom and my sister were both busy, and bringing up Dad would make the mood weird. That was why I hardly ever talked about family on stream. Maybe I'd just say that my sister came home yesterday.
"Uh, yesterday my sister, the one who lives alone, c-came home for a bit. To r-rest."
"Mmm. These days it feels a little, uh, a-awkward."
In the end, I hadn't managed a real conversation with her even up to the start of today's stream.
"Ah. I-it's not that I dis-dislike her. I like her, actually. But the age gap is pretty b-big, so there's an awkward p-part to it. ...I-if anything, I'm worried she might dislike me..."
"And c-compared to my sister, I don't have anything going for me except my l-looks..."
"N-no I'm not! We're a super-beauty, super-beautiful-girl sister pair!"
And if you add Mom, we're a super-beautiful mother and daughters!
"Th-that's right! Amazing, isn't it!"
The Iztomo really needed to be a little kinder to me.