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~
Etsuko stepped into the familiar embrace of her home, still clad in the borrowed clothes from Yumie grandma. Before she could even utter a word of greeting, Atsumu's slipper came hurtling towards her, striking her face with an unexpected force. Pain flared across her cheek, and she couldn't help but protest.
"That hurt, you idiot!" she exclaimed, rubbing her stinging cheek.
Atsumu, ever the mischievous one, simply grinned and winked, relishing in his perfect aim. "Ah, a perfect pitch! Welcome back, my dear little sister," he teased, his tongue clicking in amusement.
Etsuko wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Gross," she muttered under her breath.
The banter was swiftly interrupted by Osamu's voice resonating from the living room, his words punctuated by the sound of his munching. Etsuko knew all too well what he was devouring – a bag of popcorn. It seemed her suspicions about his snacking habits were spot on.
"Welcome back, brat," Osamu called out, his eyes scanning her attire. "How was your 'not a date' with Kita? And what on earth are you wearing?"
Rolling her eyes, Etsuko sighed in exasperation. "First of all, Samu, it wasn't a date," she clarified. "And secondly, Kita's grandma lent me this outfit. Oh, and I brought some homemade sushi bites, miso soup, and tea bags," she added, retrieving a paper bag from the floor and handing it to Osamu before he could inquire about its contents.
True to his nature, Atsumu couldn't help but shed tears of joy upon discovering the culinary delights inside the bag. "Kita's family never fails to make me cry," he declared, his voice choked with emotion.
Osamu, too, found himself wiping away a tear with the back of his elbow. "I know exactly what you mean," he sniffled, his voice filled with genuine sentiment.
Etsuko couldn't help but facepalm at their emotional reaction. "Samu, not you too," she groaned. "Why am I the only sane person in this house?" she lamented, her frustration evident.
But deep down, she understood the sentimental connection they all shared with their grandmother. After all, the three of them had grown up under the loving care of their own grandmother. Perhaps it was this shared experience that had softened their hearts and made them susceptible to the tender touch of grandmothers.
As Etsuko tried to make sense of what happened next, a playful skirmish erupted between the twins. A slipper flew through the air, but she was relieved that their usual punches were absent. It was a chaotic spectacle, with slippers being hurled back and forth between them. However, the cacophony abruptly ceased when the sound of shattering glass pierced the air.
Turning her head, Etsuko's gaze fell upon Atsumu and Osamu, their collars gripped tightly in each other's hands, slippers poised above their heads. A moment of tension hung in the air as she surveyed the broken shards of glass scattered on the floor.
With a dark smugness creeping onto her face, Etsuko commanded, "Clean that up."
The twins immediately straightened themselves, their eyes meeting hers with a mix of resignation and compliance. They knew better than to defy her orders. Silently, they set about the task, their movements filled with a sense of begrudging obedience.
~
The next morning, the familiar gathering took place once again at the Miya residence. Etsuko approached Osamu, her hands resting on her waist, and inquired about their previous night's meal.
"What did we eat last night?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.
Osamu furrowed his brow, racking his brain for the answer. "I forgot," he admitted, his gaze shifting from her face to her posture. Concern flickered across his features as he assumed she may have injured her back. "Does your back hurt?" he asked tentatively, observing her arched stance reminiscent of an elderly person.
