Crouching Dragon and Fledgling Phoenix

Colton and Sherlock seemed to have been hit by Petrification Charms at the same time, frozen in place in strange, stiff poses.

"Do you like me?"

The question received no answer. Only the slightly warm air in the room slowly fermented.

Colton's face shifted from red to pale, but he seemed to be gradually calming down, no longer as flustered as he had been when facing Sherlock's "provocation."

In their "war," Colton was usually the victor, but today's situation had been almost entirely one-sided—until now, when things seemed to have returned to the familiar dynamic between them.

Sherlock was genuinely starting to panic.

She had simply thought she had caught hold of his weakness and could use it to claim a rare victory in their "war."

But the increasingly strange look in his eyes made her realize something: this question seemed to be asking her as well.

Most importantly, she had forgotten one thing earlier.

What if he admitted it?

A strange atmosphere known as "flustered ambiguity" began to swirl and ferment between their breaths.

Colton cleared his throat, and Sherlock finally realized that the way she had been holding him was far too intimate.

She hurriedly let go, gave a dry laugh, planted her hands on her hips, and continued smugly, "Hahaha—so you have a day like this too? Panicking now? Scared now? Hmph hmph hmph, did big sister discover those little thoughts in your heart?"

Colton did not immediately straighten his slightly disheveled collar. He merely looked at her calmly. "I'm one month and three days older than you."

That familiar retort made Sherlock breathe a sigh of relief. Good, nothing had changed.

She raised an eyebrow. "What the hell does that have to do with you? From now on, you should call me big sister."

Then she