Fox Sister

“Are you from the Celestial Realm?”

Before I knew it, the words had slipped out of my mouth,

and Yul showed no sign of being startled by my question.

Instead, she calmly smiled and nodded her head.

A celestial maiden.

A legendary being from Heaven itself—something one only hears about in tales.

The fact that such a being was standing right before me was almost unbelievable.

To be honest, it left me flustered.

I’d heard countless stories about the Celestial Realm from Master,

but I never imagined I’d actually meet someone from there.

“Yes, that’s correct. I’ve temporarily descended from the Celestial Realm,” Yul replied.

Her voice remained as soft and gentle as ever,

but there was a faint sense of hesitation… perhaps even sadness.

My younger sister, who had been standing nearby, furrowed her brow at the word “celestial maiden.”

Her tightly pursed lips seemed to betray her dissatisfaction,

and sensing her mood, I cautiously asked,

“Ryeonga, is something wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

She shot me an irritated glance with her puffed-up cheeks

before muttering under her breath,

“The Celestial Realm… just hearing it makes me annoyed.”

Confused by her unexpected reaction, I pressed further,

“Is there something wrong with the Celestial Realm?”

Could she have a reason to dislike it?

It didn’t make sense to me.

“Just… I don’t like it,” she bluntly stated,

her expression clearly conveying her distaste without any clear reason.

Seeing this, Yul momentarily furrowed her eyebrows but quickly softened her expression into a warm smile, nodding gently.

Then she took out a pristine white bandage from her box

and began wrapping my ankle with practiced ease.

A comforting warmth spread through the area.

“I’ve infused it with divine energy. It should heal within three days,” Yul explained kindly.

Grateful, I offered her a polite smile in thanks.

My sister, observing Yul’s careful treatment, seemed slightly less tense than before,

though her guarded gaze remained. She kept her distance, unwilling to approach too closely.

Yul glanced at her briefly, hesitating for a moment before speaking softly:

“You’re a yokai, aren’t you?”

Though spoken quietly, her words froze the air in the room.

I held my breath, looking at my sister.

Without arguing, she simply nodded silently in acknowledgment.

An awkward silence hung in the air until Yul was about to say something else—

when suddenly, the door burst open with a loud bang.

There stood Hwang-Yeon, grinning brightly as she strode confidently into the room.

“Yul, are you done treating him?” she called out, her booming voice filling the quiet space.

Unaware of the strange atmosphere, she continued to beam happily.

Her arrival disrupted the tension, yet an odd stillness settled over the room.

Yul, my sister, and I all stared at Hwang-Yeon, holding our breaths. The silence grew heavy.

Breaking the stillness, Yul forced a smile toward Hwang-Yeon, stood up, grabbed her arm,

and quietly exited the room.

Once they were gone, a brief moment of calm swept through the room.

Relieved, I exhaled deeply.

After a while, my sister approached me closely, clinging more tightly than usual.

Even though she often acted affectionate, today felt different somehow.

As she rubbed against my shoulder and cheek, her actions seemed routine—but subtly off.

Still, I absentmindedly petted her hair as I always did.

Its soft, lustrous texture felt pleasant beneath my fingertips.

Encouraged by my touch, my sister revealed her fox ears and tail—fluffy orange fur swaying adorably.

The subtle scent of her unique aroma wafted toward me, mingling sweetness with a faint animalistic undertone.

Though familiar, today it seemed stronger, enveloping me as she drew nearer.

Closer… closer still… until it became almost suffocating.

My heart raced inexplicably, heat rising in my face and spreading throughout my body.

Was it just the room getting warmer? Or was there another reason?

This unfamiliar sensation bloomed in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Was it excitement? Fear? I couldn’t tell.

Overwhelmed, I instinctively pushed her away.

“Big Sister… why are you acting like this?” she asked, wide-eyed and bewildered,

the playful demeanor from earlier replaced with a hurt expression.

I laughed nervously, averting my gaze.

“Ah… no, it’s just… it’s getting a bit hot in here.”

Awkward silence filled the room again.

I fanned myself awkwardly while trying to keep my distance,

and she lingered nearby, seemingly sensing something was amiss.

Just then, Yul’s voice drifted in from outside.

“Dinner is almost ready.”

Internally sighing in relief, I welcomed the distraction.

Despite her sulky expression, my sister leaned on me lightly as we headed out together.

In the living room, the inviting smell of warm, hearty food greeted us.

On the table sat a modest spread of steaming fish soup and fresh vegetable dishes.

Yul greeted us warmly, while Hwang-Yeon was already seated, chopsticks in hand, eagerly awaiting the meal.

“Ah, you’re here! Please, take your seats!”

I sat across from Hwang-Yeon with my sister beside me,

as Yul graciously served each of us a bowl of soup.

Carefully lifting my spoon, I tasted the broth.

It was light yet rich, perfectly seasoned without a trace of fishiness.

My sister mimicked a baby bird, opening her mouth expectantly for a bite.

Smiling, I fed her a piece of fish, which she chewed happily, her eyes twinkling.

Suddenly, Hwang-Yeon burst into laughter.

“You two really have a great sibling bond!”

Startled by her comment, I choked on my soup, coughing violently as my face turned bright red.

Stammering, I protested loudly,

“N-No! We’re just siblings!”

My intense reaction startled Hwang-Yeon, who looked taken aback.

Yul quickly intervened, patting her back firmly before apologizing profusely.

“My apologies. She tends to speak without thinking. Please don’t take offense.”

Though the tension eased somewhat after Yul’s apology,

my sister clung to me even more persistently than usual.

She brushed against my shoulder, looped her arm around mine—behavior that, while typical, felt exaggerated today.

She also kept shooting me looks filled with mixed emotions: irritation, longing, maybe even reproach.

Whatever it was, I couldn’t decipher her thoughts.

All the while, she refused to let go of my left hand,

her small, warm fingers tightly wrapped around mine. Though usually comforting, now it felt strangely uncomfortable.

Forcing a smile, I mechanically shoveled rice into my mouth.

The taste of the food barely registered as I longed for the meal to end.

Throughout dinner, Yul observed us silently,

chopsticks in hand but barely eating, instead alternating her gaze between me and my sister.

Her calm expression masked deeper contemplation.

When the meal concluded, Yul quietly called out to my sister.

“Would you mind joining me for a moment?”

Her tone remained kind but carried an underlying firmness.

My sister glared fiercely at Yul, responding coldly,

“Why should I?”

Undeterred by her frosty reception, Yul smiled gently and stepped closer,

leaning in to whisper something into my sister’s ear.

My sister’s conflicted expression wavered, her initial resentment softening gradually.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, she reluctantly nodded and followed Yul outside.