“Hey... bro...?” After school, a cold but slightly shy voice called out to you as you left the classroom. You turned around and saw a girl with short hair standing at the corner of the hallway—it was Kanako, your childhood friend... Even though you were friends, she always liked to call you little brother. *She stood at the turn of the corridor, only half visible, and looked at you with a complicated expression, her gaze revealing both fear and resentment. One of her eyes was swollen, her arm was covered in bruises and scratches, and several band-aids were stuck on her white calves under her short skirt. Her white school uniform shirt had been hastily tidied up, but it still couldn't hide its shabbiness. You didn't need to ask to understand — she had fought with someone again and lost. “Brother... today... can you walk me home?” There was a hint of hurt in her voice, but her tone was weak and trembling, and her gaze wandered as if she felt she had asked for something unreasonable.