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1. A Battle for Sacred Space, or: A Very Deliberate Sleeping Sound
Soft morning light filtered into the Silver Anchor's bedroom.
As Ledea Mace surfaced from sleep, her arms registered something with a familiar give — the Pom stuffed animal she'd bought at the station, orange and soft, right where she'd left it.
"...Yes. This texture really is calming."
She moved to pull it closer, and stopped.
Something behind her. A weight. A warmth that had not been there when she fell asleep.
She didn't need to turn around. A slight shift of her gaze was sufficient: golden hair spread across the sheets, eyes closed, expression one of complete and apparently genuine rest.
The breathing was regular. The performance of deep sleep was quite convincing.
But Ledea had been observing Shutia for long enough to know the tells. The long lashes, trembling faintly. The fingers, tracking the warmth of Ledea's body with small unconscious movements.
(She's awake. Continuing last night's monitoring mission, presumably.)
Without a word, Ledea propped the Pom against the headboard. Then she removed the nightcap she'd been wearing, and pressed it firmly against Shutia's face — centered over the nose and mouth with precise placement.
"Mmmph—?! ...fwah — hah... ...sniff. ...hm. sis's smell. best thing to wake up to..."
Shutia made sounds of mild suffocation while somehow managing to sound content about it, the nightcap still attached to her face.
Ledea was already getting up.
"Come out when you're ready. If you're not up soon, the nightcap goes in the washing machine."
"Wait — not that — that's a vital nutritional resource—!"
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2. The Morning News, or: The Captivator of Young Women
The breakfast Shutia had prepared was already on the table. Ledea stood at the counter and handled the drinks — black coffee for herself, which she was committed to now, and Shutia's specialty protein shake.
Shutia appeared shortly after, freshly washed, and settled into her chair with the particular brightness of someone who had gotten away with something.
"Morning, sis. Cutest person in the world, as always. Oh — coffee smell. Mixed with sis's smell, the Silver Anchor is once again a vessel of peaceful fragrance."
"Good morning, Shutia. You're loud for this hour. Eat quietly."
Ledea brought up the station's environmental display on the main monitor — today's setting: early summer, light breeze — alongside the morning news. The sound of Shutia working through her salad and the even voice of a news presenter filled the room.
Then, without looking away from the monitor, Ledea spoke.
"...Shutia."
"Hm? What is it, sis?"
"You seem to be very popular. With girls."
"—pfft?!"
Shutia nearly distributed her shake across the table.
"Wh — where is that coming from — my popularity is purely a byproduct of protecting sis, it's not—"
"Yes, your appearance. I understood that you attracted men — that's been evident for some time, and frankly any number of disreputable individuals have targeted you because of it. But." Ledea turned her chair slowly, bringing her full attention to bear. "Charming young women as well. That I hadn't anticipated."
Cool gaze. Slightly entertained around the edges.
"It's happened several times now, hasn't it."
"Sis, that's — Sati is a special case, she's just — and Kanoa from yesterday, that was more like a stray finding somewhere warm to stand, it wasn't—"
"Two names. Already."
Ledea laughed — quiet, genuine.
"I imagine there will be more. Your collection of little-sister candidates. Will the Silver Anchor eventually be full of girls calling you big sis? ...That would be quite a sight."
"That's cruel, sis! Don't tease me like that!"
Shutia put her face on the table, ears red.
"I didn't know what to do the whole time yesterday. Watching you sit there and chat happily with Asphi — I could barely breathe. I kept thinking, if only sis were sitting on my lap getting patted instead—"
"Asphi is composed, and when she decides to act she's decisive. I genuinely admire her. I'd like to be that kind of adult someday."
"No! Absolutely not! That's — that's practically cheating! Having someone to admire who isn't me, when I'm right here—"
"How is admiring someone cheating. You take everything to extremes."
Ledea put cream in her coffee.
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3. The Sister Certification, or: Grounds for Rejection
A stretch of time passed — peaceful for Ledea, cardiovascularly demanding for Shutia.
Ledea looked at her empty cup and spoke, apparently to no one in particular.
"...Hypothetically, Shutia. If you were to take Sati on as a little sister—"
"I'm not doing that! My only little sister is sis! ...Well — sis is technically the older one, but spiritually she's also my little sister in a sense, which is—"
Ledea raised one finger, cutting through the confusion.
"Sati — approved. She's a good person, and she cares about machines properly. If she wanted to help with the Silver Anchor's maintenance, I'd have no objection."
"...You'd approve?"
"Katrine — I'll allow it. She's noisy, but she actually listens when I talk to her."
"Why is she on the list at all?! She's not a little sister candidate — she's a public nuisance!"
Ledea let that pass and let her expression settle into something more deliberate.
She thought of Kanoa — the image of her from the game screen, that particular profile.
"Kanoa, however. No."
"...What? Kanoa? Why? She was holding your hand all yesterday—"
"I don't approve. She called me small and compact like a mascot." A pause. "Kanoa's application for little sister status is hereby rejected. By senior sister authority. With finality."
"Sis, what are you talking about?! Nobody applied for anything! Nobody is becoming anyone's little sister!"
Shutia's voice had achieved a register that could generously be called a shriek.
Ledea stood, satisfied, and took her cup to the kitchen.
"Now. Get ready for work. We have an outer hull cleaning job at Subaru Station today. ...We'll take three route changes on the way there, in case Kanoa is waiting."
"Your security protocols are excessive! I'm glad, but the direction is completely wrong!"
The morning's proceedings concluded with Shutia's unconditional surrender.
In Ledea's internal register of Shutia's social connections and associated threat assessments, Kanoa's name had been entered at the top of the list, in the functional equivalent of red ink.
"...Shutia. Shall we eat the gaming manju we bought yesterday as a souvenir? ...Should we bring one to Sati as well?"
"Sis, the favoritism is completely visible! I can see it happening in real time!"
The Silver Anchor's morning was, as it always was — loud, warm, and carrying a quality of love that was just slightly unsettling.