Disclaimer: Don't own BakaTest.

Like or hate, I appreciate it when people leave reviews/critic – it gives me a better idea of where I need to work as a writer. It could even be something as simple as, 'I like the part where . . .' or 'I think so-and-so is too out-of-character'. Every little bit helps.

Hideyoshi had a distant, slightly dreamy look in his eyes – a good indicator that there was probably something extremely stupid and more idiotic than usual bouncing around in his head. And Yuuko may not have liked admitting to it often, but she didn't consider herself a bad sister. Therefore, she took it as a personal duty to shoot down whatever dumb ideas her brother came up with, before he put any stupid plans in motion and ended up getting himself hurt.

She didn't have to waste time sneaking the thoughts out of him today; Hideyoshi told her what he was thinking on his own accord.

"Yuuko, if there was someone that you really liked, and . . ." he blushed deeply. He had a tendency to do that, kind of like those fanservice schoolgirls so popular in anime.

Immediately, Yuuko stopped what she was doing and glared. Her brother was so naïve, she thought bitterly. 'He has no idea what he's getting himself into.'

Suddenly, Hideyoshi was wondering if going to Yuuko for advice was really the best idea. But it was too embarrassing to ask their parents. Far too embarrassing . . .

"I think I really like this person," he concluded finally.

"How much?" she demanded warily, mentally running through a list of candidates. It was most likely someone he knew from Class F, or perhaps the drama club, but the odds weren't looking good either way.

Akihisa was too much of an idiot for him to even be considering. She just couldn't imagine him with Yuji, who was responsible enough, but almost certainly not gay and probably engaged to Shouko by now anyway. Himeji would have been the best choice, if she weren't so narrow mindedly focused on Akihisa.

. . . There wasn't anyone compatible for her brother.

"I don't know. Um, m-maybe enough to get married?"

Yuuko scowled at him. "You can't just rush things with someone you–"

"But I've known them all my life!" Hideyoshi protested, sensing where this conversation was going.

Was it Akihisa after all? That was, as far as Yuuko knew, the longest friendship her brother had ever been in.

"That may be so," she continued, choosing her words carefully, "but are you really prepared to spend the rest of your life with them?"

"I . . . I think I can handle that."

"Really? Hideyoshi, marriage constitutes a demand for unconditional love, for better and for worse. Are you honestly prepared to deal with that? When you come home to ten screaming kids, are you still going to be happy? Or what if your spouse turns out to be a lazy slob? Are you going to be okay with picking up after them day after day, having to cater to their every need and do all the cooking and chores and–"

"I don't think . . ."

Hideyoshi could try to interject, but Yuuko just skillfully ignored him. She was on a roll, listing examples from a distant aunt and uncle's she'd once spent the night at.

"So maybe you are okay with all that. But it's not just about the cleaning and the work, you know. Some people are seriously defective! They could be forty years old and you'll still have to pop all the gigantic, infected pimples on their greasy back, and can you honestly think about this and not be grossed out? Because that is not true marriage!"

Hideyoshi looked just as taken aback as she had planned for him to be. In fact, he was utterly stunned into silence for a moment, and Yuuko felt a brief sense of accomplishment wash over her. But it was very brief, because when he finally regained his voice, all he had to say was:

"Yuuko, you don't have any problems like that, do you?"

And then it dawned on her . . .

I needed a break before my brain exploded from NaNoWriMo, so I finished this story . . . that I started almost a month ago. As you can probably tell, my exploded brain hasn't quite recovered yet. Have I mentally disturbed today?

Oh, but I know people who suffer this problem very much in real life. I get "inspiration" from the weirdest things (head/desk). And I also blame a lack of sleep.