The Name I Gave Her
I came, and at the same moment I grabbed my younger sister’s hair with all my strength. Thick spurts of semen surged out as I smeared it across her face and into her open mouth, my fingers roughly clutching those soft green strands. My sister kept her eyes closed, tongue still sticking out. The semen that landed on it painted her bright red tongue a sticky white. Yet every time another rope shot out, a glimpse of pale yellow irises would peek through her tightly shut eyelids. She seemed curious. Still, she didn’t rush me. She simply waited with her mouth open until I was completely finished.
I felt the second wave hit and my whole body shuddered violently. “All… done?”
My sister’s voice came out lisping because she still hadn’t closed her mouth. The leaking pronunciation was oddly cute. Only then did I manage to pull myself even slightly out of that decadent haze of lust. I looked at the situation with cold eyes, breathing hard, and answered.
“Yeah… mm. I’m done.”
The moment she heard my reply, my sister made a loud gulp and swallowed every drop in one go. Without the slightest hint of disgust, she took the thick load filling her mouth and drank it down. She even licked up the thinner, second-round semen that had splattered around her lips, as if she didn’t want to waste a single drop. The sight was so unbearably erotic it made my head spin. If I hadn’t already come twice in a row, I probably would have gotten hard again right then.
“Bleh… it really tastes awful.”
And then, completely at odds with that obscene display, her childishly honest reaction made me burst out laughing before I could stop myself.
“Haha. You could’ve spit it out, you idiot.”
I loosened my grip on her hair and gently stroked her head with unmistakable affection. My sister’s face bloomed once more with that familiar, gentle smile.
“I thought you’d like it~ So? Did you hate it?”
Her innocent tone melted away every last trace of wariness inside me. The hollow emptiness that always followed ejaculation was gently covered by the devoted love she showed me. She was resting her head on my thigh, so it wasn’t exactly pillow talk, but I suddenly felt the urge to exchange soft, loving words with her like real lovers.
If I hadn’t suddenly realized that my room—aside from the bed and blankets—was completely empty, devoid of any other furniture, I would have spoken to her without any barriers.
From within the blank spaces of my memory, a creeping sense of dissonance slowly crawled out. Disgust. Revulsion. Fear. All those tangled emotions twisted together and forced a question past my lips.
Cold sweat broke out along my hairline. Every hair on my body—arms, legs, everywhere—felt like it was standing on end at once. I gathered my courage and asked my sister in a voice that sounded like it was crawling on the ground.
“Um…”
“Yeah?”
“What… was your name again?”
Even as I said it, I knew how insane the question sounded. There couldn’t possibly be a brother in this world who didn’t know his own sister’s name. Even a newborn baby had something to be called. Especially after we had just shared such sticky, intimate affection. I wasn’t allowed to not know my sister’s name.
Yet once the words left my mouth, I couldn’t take them back. The moment they were spoken, they gained weight, flesh, and a terrible sense of finality.
That’s right. I didn’t know this thing’s name. I really didn’t.
And it wasn’t just that. I couldn’t even remember my own name. More precisely, between the fragments of memory there were far too many raw, gaping holes. My recollections didn’t connect with any logical consistency, as if someone had taken scissors to a film reel.
Luckily—or maybe not—my sister’s reaction was unexpected.
“Ahahaha, what are you even saying, oppa~”
She laughed loudly, as if she genuinely couldn’t believe what she’d heard. For a second I felt relieved and my tension eased. But on that small, pretty face still laughing, something ice-cold and artificial clung to her eyes—something I had never seen before. A smile that looked manufactured.
How can you say you don’t know your own sister’s name? You know perfectly well that such a thing cannot exist. So why would you deliberately speak such nonsense and ruin my mood? Why, why, why? I can’t understand it at all. I can’t understand even a little. Is hurting my feelings the only thing that brings you happiness? Is that why you act like this? I can’t comprehend the reason. It makes no sense. You must have kept that question tucked away in some corner of your mind while you were panting in pleasure just moments ago, never even glancing at it. So why are you bringing it up now, as if you’re finished using me? Why are you destroying the environment I worked so hard to create, the atmosphere I crafted, the bond I built—as casually as a child crushing an ant under its finger? After receiving this kind of treatment, after seeing this kind of disgust from you, do you really think I can forgive you? This is clear malice. It must be hostility directed at me. That’s right. You don’t love me at all. You don’t like me even a little. That’s why you’re doing this. You’re kicking over a tower of stones just for fun. That’s all it is, isn’t it? Answer me. Do you really believe there exists an idiot brother who can’t even remember his own sister’s name? Why won’t you open your mouth and answer the question? You’re hiding behind silence, believing the situation will naturally resolve itself. How pathetic. How cowardly. And how utterly stupid. Pathetic. So that’s the answer you chose? Not answering. Staying silent like you’ve become mute. You’re hiding in there, aren’t you? You pitiful little rabbit, rolling your eyes, desperately searching for an escape that doesn’t exist. But I warn you—this will not end with merely brushing past you. It will pierce through your entire life. Like an arrow through a target. Like a beast with its neck broken. You will have to endure every single torment that path brings. I wore a beautiful yellow dress and begged you, begged and begged until the skin peeled off my feet, to accept me as your bride. So why is it that you—why must I conclude that a heartless person like you should be hanged right this instant? The one you claim to love so much is giving you her opinion: this is a capital offense. If you think this is a sin that can simply be buried, you are gravely mistaken. In fact, suffocation isn’t enough. If you’ve never experienced pleasure before, then you’ve never experienced pain either, and you are more than capable of understanding both. Yes. It’s decided. It’s already set in stone. It has already happened. Like water already spilled—
It was terrifying. So terrifying that if I’d had a gun or a knife in my hand, I would have driven it into my own skull just to make it stop. The face of that thing spewing incomprehensible words like a broken dam no longer held a single clear shape. It twisted slowly, very slowly. In the center of its face, an empty, hollow pupil began to flicker. The growing void swallowed all its features as it continued muttering sounds that defied understanding. Its voice was nothing but static. The lovely, resonant tone I had loved was gone. All that remained was an unpleasant noise like radio static trying—and failing—to imitate human speech.
By the time I realized what was happening, it had already stretched out a long hand and seized my head. It wasn’t as forceful as the grip I’d used on her hair while I was coming. In fact, the touch was gentle. But the instant it made contact, a horrifying chill raced through my entire body, making me shudder. My instincts screamed inside my skull like a command.
I have to answer. I must answer.
Even if it was a lie, even if I had to clumsily make something up from the missing pieces of my memory, I had to call that thing by a name. If I stayed silent any longer, a terror far beyond death would come for me. I had to answer. Right now. Immediately.
“Ah… Ai. Ai… Ai. Ai! Ai, right? Ahaha…”
It was absurdly quick thinking. The worst naming sense imaginable. But with my mouth frozen stiff from fear, I desperately forced it open and called out the name I had just given it.
The lights flickered. In that single instant, the scenery changed as if flipping to a new slide. My sister returned to the form I recognized. The inexplicable chill that had seized my body vanished. The hollow void she had shown me moments ago was gone without a trace. The flickering something had become a delicate, beautiful face once more.
Ai had become the admirable little sister who loved her foolish older brother with pure, innocent devotion once again.
“You were really mean~ You shouldn’t joke about something like that, oppa. I’m your real sister, aren’t I?”
With her cheeks puffed out in a pout, Ai carefully stroked my head as she spoke. I hadn’t been hallucinating. The cold sweat still sliding down my cheeks proved it. It wasn’t a mental problem either. There had been no special trigger, and even right after my parents’ deaths I had been fine. It felt like I had just woken from the worst nightmare imaginable, yet every sensation I’d experienced after waking—whether pleasure or terror—was vivid enough that I could recall it instantly.
As if I needed to confirm it hadn’t been a dream, I spoke the name I had given her out loud.
“…Ai.”
My sister answered in a bright, unhesitating voice.
“Yes, oppa.”
And so, my life with Ai began.