I didn't realize my life was quiet until a little bomb exploded in it…
A real girl, with big pink eyes and soft white hair, wearing huge headphones and a bunny headband that wobbled with every step she took.
I'm not talking about a fictional character or a cute creature from an animated show.
I'm talking about a real-life disaster made of flesh and blood.
Her name — let's call her for now: "Hana."
My half-sister, from one father and another mother… and a parenting style that gives me headaches.
Is she an innocent girl? Yes.
Is she easy to manipulate? Tragically so.
Is she the bomb that threatens the last shred of my remaining morals? Absolutely.
Our first meeting was… a miniature disaster.
I opened the door to my apartment, and there she was: short, light, wearing a skirt too short for moral decency, and a loose shirt that danced around her slender body.
She looked up at me with that awkward innocent gaze, as if asking:
> "Can I live with you?"
I looked at her, then up at the sky, then back at her.
And sighed inwardly:
> "Great. My life is officially over."
...
The first day went as I expected: innocent, destructive chaos.
She wandered around the apartment like a lost kitten.
She sat on the couch, curled up like she was trying to merge with it.
She entered the kitchen and knocked over three cups at once, screaming "Sorry! Sorry!" as if endless apologies could fix everything.
She went to the bathroom and left the door ajar… by accident.
(I noticed. And cursed myself a thousand times for noticing).
I tried to keep my composure.
I kept a respectable distance between us.
I spoke in formal phrases.
I always kept my eyes above "danger level."
But the problem wasn't me… it was her.
When she sat on the couch, she would cross her legs in a way that revealed more than it hid.
And when she rushed to show me a funny video on her phone, she bent over with audacity, her shirt falling forward, exposing more than any self-respecting man should see.
And when she fell asleep on the couch, she wriggled as if showcasing, her shirt rising with every movement, revealing unforgivable details.
...
I swear, I could hear the devil playing a loud tune in my head.
> "She's your sister. Don't think in a perverse way."
"She's your sister. Don't think in a perverse way."
"She's your sister. Don't think in a perverse way."
But…
When I came out of the bathroom one time, and saw her asleep on the couch, her legs exposed, her shirt pulled up so high it almost revealed her chest…
I knew then that I was finished.
Completely finished.
...
I stood there, watching this visual crime, laughing bitterly, whispering to myself:
> "Ah, Hana… you have no idea the crime you've committed against me."
And so… began my story with the girl who was so innocent…
Innocent beyond measure… until she became the greatest threat I had ever known.