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There is a god that resides in the confines of their apartment.
White hair, like the pillowing snow that kisses the ground on a quiet Sunday morning; blue eyes, like the sky on a cloudless day. Tall, delicate. If she closes her eyes and prays at the temple a twenty minute walk away from their home, god would look like the man that appears before her eyes.
"T-toru-nii," Megumi stutters. She can hear his breathy moans, the heavier huffs of this strange, beautiful divinity that flits in and out of their lives. From the crack of the door, she sees god's form engulf the petite build of her little brother like a ravenous angel yearning for salvation as their hips rock back and forth. There is a soft, wet sound that harmonises with the cadence of their breaths.
Her heart pounds in her ears; her fingers grip tightly onto her worn blanket. An odd feeling enraptures her — a sort of heat that she doesn't understand pooling in the pits of her stomach.
She watches Megumi's limbs twitch, desperate hands desecrating the ivory back of their god and turning it red. "A-ah..." Megumi cries. His breath hitches, then flutters away into the moonlight.
"Good boy," Satoru whispers. He raises a hand to stroke Megumi's flushed cheeks, blocking her view.
A curse, she decides. An exorcism that she cannot see, from a world she does not understand.
She turns around, and quietly walks back to her bedroom across the hall.