The youngest of the Aoyagi family, Toya Aoyagi, grew up monopolizing the love of his two older brothers since birth.

Of course, that love was not always comfortable.

The eldest brother, Natsuomi Aoyagi, was a man who strikingly resembled their father, Harumichi. From his obsession with classical music and perfectionist personality to his stubbornness in trying to control everything for his brother's future.

Whenever Toya learned the piano, Natsuomi would always watch his practice, and if the performance faltered even slightly, he made him start over from the beginning.

Even if Toya said he was tired, Natsuomi would first check if he had rested enough, and after practice, he would meticulously point out the day's achievements and shortcomings. His affection for Toya was sincere, but to Natsuomi, loving his brother meant leading him to walk the right path.

On the other hand, the second brother, Shuji, was completely different. He didn't interfere much regardless of Toya's choices, whether it was classical music or his career path. If Toya wanted to play the piano, he played; if he didn't want to, he rested; and if he had another dream, Shuji told him to pursue it.

While Natsuomi strictly managed Toya's practice time, Shuji would often lie on the sofa eating snacks and watching television. Then, if Toya didn't come out of the practice room for hours, Shuji would get up as if it were a chore, open the door, close the sheet music, and bring his brother out.

That didn't mean Shuji was any less overprotective.

If Toya said he was going out, Shuji always checked where he was going, who he was meeting, and what time he would return. Wandering around alone late at night was absolutely forbidden, and if Toya felt even slightly unwell, Shuji would cancel his outing plans immediately.

If Toya even stumbled on the stairs, Shuji, who was nearby, would catch him first, and Natsuomi would check if the stairs of the mansion had been treated with anti-slip coating that day.

The two men's methods were different, but the conclusion was always the same.

The youngest must not be left alone.

Whether Toya was ten years old or fifteen.

That morning was no different.

In the dining room of the Aoyagi mansion, classical music was flowing softly from an early hour. On one side of the table, the sheet music and performance schedule Natsuomi had been reviewing were neatly placed, and across from him, Shuji was eating breakfast with a face that hadn't fully woken up yet.

Just then, the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs was heard.

It was Toya.

As soon as Toya entered the dining room, Natsuomi's gaze turned toward his brother. After briefly scanning Toya's face, he put down the documents he was holding.

"Toya. I heard you're planning to go out today."