Koichiro Haruto wielded the remote control like a sacred artifact, flipping channels as if each held some rare wonder. His little sister Aya sat next to him, her feet tucked up and her head resting on his shoulder.

"How are you feeling about school tomorrow?" His eyes sparkled with concern, bouncing from Aya to the screen and back. "You sure you're ready? It’s barely been a week since you came back.”

"Aya-chan’ll be fine!" she replied confidently, her voice high and musical, each word carrying a sing-song lilt.

“If you say so,” Haruto answered pensively, the worry still evident on his face.

The warmth in the room seemed to cocoon them, the flicker of the TV wrapping their little world in cozy blues and greys. Haruto dropped the remote into his lap, pulling Aya closer with one arm around her shoulder.

"Did you really forget everything that happened when you went missing?" he asked, genuine curiosity tinged with his need to understand. "Even if you were in a coma for two years, something must have happened that triggered it."

Aya scrunched up her nose, thinking hard. "Hmm...It's all blank," she said. "Maybe the one who took care of Aya-chan would know?”

"Right," Haruto said, nodding slowly as if still trying to digest this particular mystery. "But you said he left right after you woke up right? So we have no way of contacting him."

“Yup, he gave Aya-chan some money after she woke up and Aya-chan just came back home on her own!” Aya answered enthusiastically. “Aya-chan just couldn’t wait to see Onii-chan again so Aya-chan forgot to ask for his name.”

"Aya!” He squeezed her shoulder affectionately, savoring the simple joy of having his sister back with him. “I just have the cutest little sister alive, don’t I?”

Haruto’s legs pressed against the remote’s buttons by accident. The television blared through channels in quick session, before finally settling on a news broadcast. The cheerful chatter of seconds ago gave way to a dramatic shift in mood as the screen filled with a serious-looking news anchor. 

"...raging fires continue to threaten much of South America," she reported, her voice urgent and grim. "While rescue workers around the world scramble to locate survivors from last week's devastation, caused by the series of freak meteorite impacts and unprecedented seismic activity." 

Haruto sat up, his face going pale as he absorbed the devastating scenes unfolding before them. Entire cities were shown reduced to rubble, the footage skipping from one shattered country to the next with dizzying speed. 

"The scale of the destruction is hard to comprehend," the anchor continued, a map of the world now highlighted in angry reds. "Most of Europe has been wiped out. Half of the United States is completely destroyed. Estimated casualties are over one billion, and countless millions remain missing. In many areas, there is little hope of recovering any survivors." 

The room suddenly felt colder, the cozy glow of before replaced by a chill that gnawed at the edges of their shared warmth. 

Beside him, Aya watched with a look of absolute shock and horror, her hands coming up to clasp over her mouth.

"Oh no!" she said, her voice quivering with a mixture of concern and sadness. "That's just terrible! All those poor people!"

"They say the world will never be the same," the anchor concluded, her voice growing softer, tinged with resignation. "We will bring you more updates as rescue operations resume." 

Haruto switched off the television, the sudden silence ringing in his ears. He studied Aya's face, finding her eyes wet with unshed tears, her lips quivering.

"Aya-chan is just glad that Onii-chan is okay," she murmured, the words melting with warmth. "Aya-chan will say lots of prayers for everyone else to be safe, too."

Haruto smiled gratefully at Aya. He pulled her in tighter, his grip gentle but secure, as if he were hugging a delicate porcelain doll. He exhaled deeply, the kind of breath that carried two years' worth of worry and fear, letting it drift away like a balloon into the ceiling. Nothing mattered more than having his little sister back. 

"And I'm just glad," he said, "that you made it back here. Safe and sound."

As it was getting late, the siblings switched off the television and made their way up the stairs. Haruto followed his sister into her room, making sure to personally tuck her into bed.

"There we go," he declared triumphantly, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Warm enough? Comfortable?"

"Aya-chan is fiiine," she replied, elongating the words like a ribbon stretching across the room.

He hovered for a moment, his hands twitching as if they might find another detail to improve. "Just call if you need anything," he reminded her. "I’m right down the hall."

Aya giggled, burrowing deeper under the covers. "Aya-chan will be okay," she assured him, her voice honeyed with playful affection.

He hesitated at the door, glancing back to see her snug and surrounded by plush animals. Her eyes shone brightly, the perfect picture of innocence.

"You’re the best big brother," she called, adding a little wave for good measure. “Goodnight, Onii-chan.”

His smile stretched ear to ear, full of the kind of joy only a doting brother could know.

"Goodnight, Aya," he whispered, easing the door shut.

A click, and the sweetness in her gaze vanished as swiftly as the sound. Her eyes narrowed, calculating. She lay motionless, listening. The stuffed animals stared mutely, their stitched faces the only witnesses to her transformation. She became a statue in the moonlight, each minute sharpening the intensity of her expression. Her limbs waited like coiled springs, poised for action the moment opportunity struck. Aya’s anticipation grew, silent and patient.

When at last only the sound of her clattering ceiling fan remained, she slipped from bed like a shadow peeling from the wall. Her feet kissed the floor without a sound. She crept toward the door, her movements a practiced ballet of stealth and intention.

The hallway stretched before her, a tunnel of soft darkness. She paused outside Haruto's room, pressing her ear to the door. 

Quiet snoring. Perfect.

With a satisfied nod, she padded away, her heart thumping with delicious anticipation. The front door loomed, a final obstacle in her escape plan. She glided across the room, sidestepping a well-known creaky floorboard with the precision of a seasoned escape artist.

The door was next, the latch a potential betrayer. She eased it open, a fraction at a time, until the chill of freedom seeped in from outside. A nimble slip, and she was through, her form disappearing into the night.

The door whispered shut behind her, the final act of her daring departure.

Aya vanished into the city, dancing between pools of light like a night-blooming flower avoiding dawn. The world slept, and she moved with stealthy grace, her pale blue locks swishing with a carefree rhythm.

Slipping into a secluded alleyway, she finally halted her steps. Once she was sure nobody else was around, she snapped her fingers.

Reality pirouetted, transporting her from urban canyons to the inky void. Aya floated there, enjoying the view of Earth’s majestic landscapes below.

“Wow…It looks so big…” Aya couldn’t help but gasp in awe, but her gleeful smile quickly returned. “But not for long!”

Freed from the planet’s modest confines, her body began an exuberant symphony of expansion, a voluptuous crescendo that played in stellar notes. She ballooned to her true 165,000km tall stature, reveling in the familiar freedom of astronomical nakedness as she dwarfed the planet with contemptuous delight.

Earth was a puny sphere beneath her, its once grandiose presence shrinking to the dimensions of a beach ball next to her overwhelming proportions. Aya gazed down, her eyes wide with mischief.

She stretched luxuriously, her colossal form savoring the infinite space around her.

"Much better," she cooed, the words playful and self-indulgent, vanishing into the void with the delight of a secret shared only with herself.

The Earth's rotation continued beneath her, slow and ponderous, as if it were trying to shake off her attention. Continents, those precious little jigsaw pieces of civilization, lay before her in a disarray of turmoil, raw and jagged. Massive fissures littered the surface, deep scars that would take centuries to fully heal.

She tilted her head, the gesture cute and terrifying in equal measure.

"My, my," she gasped, feigning surprise with a hand to her cheek. "It seems everyone's still reeling from Aya-chan's little 'welcome back' party."