[Third Person PoV]
"Her room's the third one on the right," Miku muttered, her forehead pressing down onto her open workbook. Thin wisps of steam seemed to rise from her head as she groaned in exhaustion.
Clark adjusted his hold on Yotsuba, who hung limply in his arms like a puppet with its strings cut. He carefully made his up the stairs toward her room.
Itsuki watched his retreating back with narrowed, suspicious eyes. "Are we sure it's a good idea to send Clark into Yotsuba's room all alone while she's defenseless?" she asked, her tone sharp and laced with suspicion.
Miku raised her head just enough to rest her chin on the table, her tired eyes half-lidded. "Don't do that."
"Don't do what? It's a genuine concern," Itsuki replied, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes as if she were stating the obvious.
"Don't accuse Clark of something like that." Miku's voice carried a low note of irritation as she frowned. "Clark might be a lot of things, but he's not the type of person who'd ever take advantage of a woman while she's defenseless."
"And how could you possibly know that?" Itsuki shot back, her voice rising with each word. "You barely know the guy! We all barely know him. We have no idea what's actually capable of"
"I know enough," Miku said softly but with unshakable certainty in her voice. "I don't need to know everything about him to see the kind of person he is. Some things are just… obvious when you pay attention."
Itsuki groaned, rubbing her temples in frustration. "You're looking at him through rose-tinted glasses, Miku. All I'm doing is thinking about Yotsuba's safety as her sister—which is what we all should be doing."
---
Clark entered Yotsuba's room and gently laid her down on the bed. The dim light of the bedside lamp cast a soft glow over her peaceful face. He studied her expression, noticing the subtle shift in her breathing pattern and the faint acceleration of her heartbeat. She wasn't asleep anymore.
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before turning toward the door. "You know," he said at last, his tone weary but laced with amusement, "I can tell you're pretending to sleep. I won't apologize for the things I said the other day—because I'd be lying if I said I was sorry. They were funny, and I stand by that."
He could hear her body tense—the small tightening of her jaw, the restrained twitch in her fingers. She was seconds away from snapping at him, but before she could, he continued.
"But…" he said, his voice softening, "what I will apologize for is spitting my drink at you. That was out of line. I got carried away, and for what it's worth… I'm sorry."
He didn't wait for a response. Clark simply opened the door and stepped out, closing it quietly behind him.
Yotsuba lay still, listening as his footsteps faded down the hall. Slowly, she turned her head to the side and opened her eyes, staring blankly at the wall. "Coward," she muttered under her breath. "Couldn't even apologize in front of the others—had to do it in private."
She pulled one of her many pillows close to her chest and buried her face against it. "And they weren't funny," she whispered, voice muffled. "They were hurtful."
---
When Clark returned to the living room, he found chaos waiting for him. The remaining four sisters were still in the middle of a heated argument. Ichika and Nino had apparently joined Miku's side, forming an impromptu alliance against Itsuki's stubborn logic.
Clark sighed audibly, rubbing the back of his neck as he approached. "Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath.
The sisters went quiet the moment they saw him. Itsuki pressed her lips into a thin line, unsure whether she should continue.
"Itsuki's right, you know," Clark said as he walked past them, his tone calm but firm. He sat cross-legged on the rug, leaning back on one arm with his eyes closed.
"She is?!" Ichika, Nino, and Miku all exclaimed in unison, their voices blending in collective disbelief.
"I am?!" Itsuki repeated, blinking in shock.
"Not about the part where I'd actually do something questionable," Clark clarified, opening one eye to glance at her, "but rather, she has every right to be concerned for Yotsuba's sake." He rested his elbow on his knee, his expression thoughtful. "She was spot-on when she said you don't really know me—or what I'm capable of."
The room fell silent again, though this time it was a quieter kind of silence—one born of introspection.
"You heard that?" Itsuki asked, her cheeks reddening slightly.
"You weren't exactly whispering," Clark replied with a small smirk. Then his tone shifted to something more serious. "But she's right. You should always keep that mindset. You never really know what someone's capable of—or what their intentions are. Even saints hide their crosses."
Miku lowered her gaze, her voice barely audible. "But… you wouldn't do something like that."
Clark nodded slightly. "I know I wouldn't. But you don't. And that's the point. Yotsuba's your sister—you should never allow her to be in a vulnerable situation with anyone if you can prevent it. You're supposed to look out for each other… always. I have a sister of my own and would never allow her to be in such a position even with someone I wholeheartedly trust"
The words hung in the air like a gentle weight, quiet but meaningful. The girls all looked down, each of them wearing a faint melancholic expression.
Ichika was absentmindedly rubbing the small silver earring dangling from her left ear, while Miku's fingers toyed with the side of her headphones. Each of them, in their own small way, was fidgeting with their personal accessory.
Clark tilted his head slightly, his gaze shifting between them. His eyes briefly glowed faintly as his vision shifted to another wavelength. The spiritual energy that lingered in their accessories pulsed unevenly, almost mirroring their emotions. It was faint, but it was there—each shimmer of light flickering in tune with their hearts.
"What's with everyone?" Clark finally asked, confusion threading through his voice. "Did I come down on you that hard? You all look like I just yelled at you or something."
The sisters remained silent for a few seconds. None of them wanted to be the first to speak. Then, after a long pause, Itsuki's voice broke the quiet.
"Just so you know…" she said softly, her tone tinged with something deeper—nostalgia, maybe pain. "You sounded just like our mother."
Clark blinked, taken aback. "What?"
Itsuki pressed her lips together, unwilling to elaborate, so Nino took over with a sigh. "What she means is—what you said just now, about us looking out for each other… those were her parting words to us. The last thing she told us before she…"
Clark's expression softened, his shoulders easing as realization dawned on him. "I see," he said quietly. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."
He looked down for a moment, his thoughts briefly clouding. 'That's right… I remember now. The last time I saw her—she was dying…'
Then, like a spark in his mind, another thought formed. 'Wait. Could that be it? Is she… the missing link? Does all of this connect back to their mother somehow?'
Before he could dwell on the revelation, Ichika's teasing voice cut through the somber air. "It's alright, like you said, you didn't know. But who know knew you had such maternal aura that you of all people reminded us of our mother"
The tension broke instantly as the others began chuckling. Even Miku stifled a laugh behind her hand.
Clark scoffed before he started to grumble, "What you're going to be getting is a maternal ass-whopping if you don't get back to work and stop getting distracted. You bunch of lazy bums, don't think I haven't notice you're pencils have stopped moving for some time now"
They started to chuckle at his words, minus Itsuki who just rolled her eyes amused and returned back to her work book.
---
Later that evening, once the lesson wrapped up and the tension had long since faded, Miku walked Clark to the door. The apartment was quiet now, lit only by the warm glow of the hallway lights.
"Thanks for taking time out of your schedule to tutor us," Miku said, bowing her head slightly. "You didn't have to, but… we really appreciate it."
"It's fine," Clark replied casually, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. "I didn't really mind. Oh—" He paused and rummaged through his bag for a moment before pulling out a small wrapped package. "Here. I meant to give you this earlier, but it slipped my mind."
Miku blinked in surprise, looking at the bag of sweets in his hand. "For me?"
Clark glanced around, making sure the others weren't nearby, before leaning down just slightly toward her ear. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm not great at saying thanks or returning favors. The only way I really know how is through small gifts."
Miku froze as his breath brushed against her ear, the words sending a flustered shiver down her spine. Her face turned a deep shade of pink as she stammered, "W-What did I even do to—"
"During the library," Clark interrupted softly. "Whenever the others were about to see my face without my glasses… you always jumped in to block their view. You didn't have to, but you did."
Her eyes widened. "You… saw that?"
"I did," he said with a faint smirk. "And I appreciated it. So… thanks."
Miku's fingers tightened around the small bag of sweets, her heart racing as she muttered, "Sure… no problem." Her voice came out quieter than she intended.
Up on the second-floor landing, Nino stood silently behind the railing, her expression unreadable. From her angle, it looked as though Clark had leaned down and kissed Miku's cheek. The sight hit her like a physical blow. She gripped the railing tightly, the cold metal biting into her palm.
Down below, Clark straightened up again. "Anyway, I should get going," he said, readjusting his bag. "Still got things to take care of tonight. You've got my number if you ever need to reach me—though, for the record, I'd rather you didn't."
Miku giggled quietly. She knew he was being serious, but somehow that only made it funnier. "Got it," she said with a smile as she watched him step out the door. When it shut behind him, she looked down at the sweets in her hand and held them close, a soft blush lingering on her face.
She turned—and nearly jumped out of her skin. Nino was standing right behind her, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised.
"You and Clark seem awfully close…" Nino said, her tone calm but carrying a hint of something colder beneath.
Miku blinked, nervous. "Um… I guess?"
"How?" Nino pressed, her voice a touch sharper now. "How did you two get close enough that he's giving you gifts? I'm the one who's known him the longest. So why is it you he's opening up to you and not me?"
For a moment, Miku hesitated. Then, unexpectedly, she smiled. Not the shy, hesitant smile she usually wore—but one tinged with quiet confidence. She stepped past Nino, her bag of sweets tucked under her arm, and looked back over her shoulder.
"You might have been the first to get to know Clark," she said softly, "but I'm the one that knows him better."
Nino stared, speechless, as Miku walked off down the hall, her footsteps fading into the distance. The younger girl's grin lingered—small, confident, and utterly unlike her usual self.
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