The interviewer was pretty sure he was going to lose his job, be branded as a pervert, and locked away somewhere for this.

"Your, uh," he laughed nervously. Utau looked at him, hard. There was no mercy in those purple eyes.

"I'm in love with my brother," she repeated, coldly. "Got a problem?"

Yes!, he wanted to scream. So many problems. Like, number one, why couldn't Utau act bubbly and sweet like all the other teen idols? What was with the attitude?

And of course, number two, her manager was going to make sure he lost his job to cover for her creepy family dynamics.

"I didn't know you had a brother!" he straightened, slightly, and resolved to flee the issue as quickly as possible. At least then, he could say he'd tried, "You're rather close-lipped about your personal life. When you're not working so hard for your music and your fans, what do you like to do in your spare time?"

Utau blinked, slow and cold, "I locate my brother by the tracker I sewed into his uniform's collar. And then I go to him. And then if there are any other girls around him, I make them leave, so it's just us, alone. And then—"

"WHAT ABOUT YOUR LATEST CONCERT TELL US ABOUT YOUR LATEST CONCERT HOW WAS THAT?"

"My brother didn't come," Utau's pretty, pixie face scrunched as she grimaced, "He left me so he could go hang around that stupid grade-schooler."

Mother of Pearl, he should have gone into weather forecasting. He gave up on evasion, and hoped to god that redirection would pan out better. "What's your brother like? You seem to love him a lot. Does he look like you?"

"No. He's dark, like our father. He's in his last year of high school. He likes to play games."

"He must be a very gentle person. To be friends with a grade-schooler, I mean."

Utau looked murderous.

The interviewer suspected that her brother was slightly more than just friends with said grade-schooler.