I can say this because I’ve experienced it—a stepsister is nothing more than a stranger.
Arriving at that truth in my second year of high school was a huge bummer for me as an adolescent guy, but it was really lucky considering my family situation. In manga, light novels, and games, the lack of blood ties between stepsiblings becomes an excuse for romance, and after some twists and turns, they always end up together. It would have been so cringey if I’d taken all that seriously and gotten my hopes up. I probably would’ve wound up playing the protective older brother like some cliché protagonist or something.
But reality isn’t like that.
So you’re probably wondering, how is a real-life stepsister different from the kind guys fantasize about? Well, let me give you an example. I get home from my part-time job at the bookstore and see my stepsister sitting on the couch drinking hot cocoa. This is how our conversation goes:
“Hi, Asamura.”
“Hi, Ayase.”
That’s it.
Get it?
She’s not going to say, “Hey there, older brother ,” in a sweet, syrupy tone. She won’t say something openly hostile like, “Ugh. You stink. Don’t talk to me, stepbrother,” either. You’re cool, you’re strangers—you simply exchange plain old matter-of-fact greetings.
She’s not going to act cutesy and fawn on you, nor will she hurl abuse at you. Both of those ideas are equally out of touch with reality.
Of course, there’s no heart-fluttering, lovey-dovey stuff, excessive respect, or codependence between my stepsister and me. We’ve existed in this world for sixteen years, and our paths never crossed. You can’t tell us we’ll be family starting the next day and expect us to suddenly have special feelings for each other.
I’d have more intense feelings about someone who wound up in the same class as me two years in a row.
My name is Yuuta Asamura. I’ll be turning sixteen this year, and I’m in my second year of high school.
If you’re wondering how I ended up with a new stepsister at my age, it’s because my dad is energetic. I respect him from the bottom of my heart for deciding to marry again after what he went through.
As far back as I can remember, my parents were always fighting, and I wasn’t surprised when Dad told me they were getting divorced. He apologized and said it was because he was a worthless man, but I knew it was because Mom had an affair, and I listened to him with no illusions.
After that, I lived my life without expecting much from the women of our species. That is, until one afternoon, when Dad made a sudden announcement. I was pulling out the key for my bicycle lock and sticking a foot in my sneaker at the door when he said it.
“I’ve decided to get married.”
“Huh?”
“You don’t mind, do you? She’s a beautiful lady with a big heart.”
“I don’t know. Adjectives alone don’t tell me what type of person she is.”
“Her three sizes from the top are thirty-six, twenty-four, and thirty-five.”
“Numbers aren’t any better, you know…and do you really think that’s the first info a son wants about his new mom?”
“Aren’t you happy that she has a fantastic figure?”
“Not particularly.”
“What…?! Can a teenage boy really be so unmoved by sexual desire? I always thought you seemed a little cold, but wow…”
“Hey.”
I clapped back at my dad, telling him that was a rude way to think of his own son.
People often get the wrong idea when I say I don’t expect much from women. All I’m saying is that I don’t count on receiving any warmth and kindness from them. I still get excited when I see a naked woman and horny when I see girls wearing bathing suits during swimming class.
That said, I’m not so undisciplined that I would start lusting over my dad’s girlfriend—someone who might become my mother.
“That aside, Dad, I’m amazed to hear that you’ve met someone at forty. Does she work at your office?”
“She was working at a bar my boss brought me to. She took care of me when I got wasted after drinking too much.”
“Are you sure she isn’t tricking you into marrying her…?”
I didn’t necessarily subscribe to cliché ideas like “people working in bars and clubs are all criminals and con artists,” but because of Dad’s bad experience in the past, it was easy to see the negative.
“Of course not. Akiko, at least, isn’t like that. Ah-ha-ha-ha!”
Dad roared with laughter. But wasn’t that exactly what someone being tricked would say? I was frankly appalled.
Still, I didn’t fight him on it.
“Whatever makes you happy is fine with me,” I said. “I’ll just live the same way I’ve always lived.”
That was what I meant by not getting my hopes up. Because I had no expectations about this new life with a new mom, I wasn’t worried about any potential negatives, either—like if we ended up being unhappy or she was fooling my dad into marrying her. At the time, I was just thinking I’d let whatever happened happen.
“I don’t think that’ll be so easy,” Dad replied. “You’ll have a younger sister, after all.”
“Huh? A younger sister?”
“That’s right. Akiko’s daughter. She showed me a picture. The girl was pretty cute.”
So this woman, Akiko, was divorced like Dad. It sounded like they had both experienced a failed marriage, and I bet having that in common helped bring them together.
“See? Isn’t she cute?”
“Oh…um, yeah.”
Dad seemed really excited as he lifted his phone to show me a picture of a little girl, probably in the first few years of elementary school. A foreign fantasy novel translated into Japanese and aimed at young children was spread across her lap. She was staring shyly into the camera.
“Congratulations,” he said. “You’re now a big brother!”
“Don’t try to win me over with a grin and a thumbs-up… Well, she is a cute kid. I guess I wouldn’t mind having her around.”
A teenage little sister sounded like a hassle, but if she was an elementary schooler, that was different. For your information, I’m not into little girls or anything. I thought she was cute, but not like that. Just regular cute, okay? Anyway, I was relieved that she was almost ten years younger than me because it meant I wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around her.