Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 348: Family Matters (Part 5)

A short silence settled over the room after Samantha and Amanda left. Not long, but just enough to feel the air shift.

No background noise. No forced smiles. Just the low hum of the TV's end credits and the soft fizz of an open beer can on the coffee table.

Summer didn't let it linger.

"So…" she began, turning her head toward Don, voice back to its usual brand of bratty. "Is there any movie you wanna watch or should I pick?"

Don didn't look at her. Just leaned further back into the couch, one hand loosely around his beer, the other resting lazily on his thigh.

"You pick," he said with a shrug. "Just make sure it's not something that'll put me to sleep."

Summer's expression pinched a little. She uncovered her blanket and shifted her legs onto the sofa, swinging one toward Don's head. Her foot nudged his temple—not hard, but not exactly gently either.

"If you're so tired, go sleep," she muttered, irritation leaking into her voice. "It's not like you made a promise or anything."

Don blinked, still facing forward. He didn't need to ask what she meant. And frankly, he didn't see how this was his fault. They'd already watched one movie. And if this was about unspoken expectations or whatever emotional landmine she'd rigged up in her head, he was not stepping on it.

He let out a short sigh and waved her foot away like a fly.

"It's not my fault you picked a cheesy horror flick."

Summer frowned at that. Hard. But she didn't take the bait. Not this time.

Instead, she stood up and grabbed her laptop off the ground. She sat back down with it, cross-legged now, letting the machine rest on her thighs.

The movie was still playing credits but she exited it with a quick click and started scrolling through her other folders.

**Click** **Tap** **Tap**

Eventually, she landed on one labeled: "Old Series / Shows".

Her scrolling slowed and then paused entirely.

The thumbnail for a show popped up—familiar, colorful, a little blurry from age.

Two animated characters stood back-to-back. One tall and brooding with a hoodie and flashlight. The other smaller, messier, wild-eyed with a slingshot in one hand and what looked like a cursed plush toy in the other. Behind them, a forest glowed with too many eyes. Everything had a slightly unhinged cartoon edge to it.

"Brothers of Elkridge".

Summer stared for a moment. Her fingers hovered over the trackpad. A breath escaped her nose, just shy of a sigh. 'Wow… I forgot about this show. We never even finished it.'

Her eyes shifted toward Don, still reclined and sipping from his beer, oblivious.

She opened her mouth—then hesitated. Closed it again. Then finally asked, "You remember Brothers of Elkridge?"

She turned the screen toward him slightly. "We used to watch this all the time. Never finished it."

Don turned his head slightly, squinting at the screen. The art style hit something faintly familiar, like a half-remembered fever dream from his past life—but nothing solid. He didn't recognize it. Not really.

"…I guess?" he said. "Looks kinda familiar."

Summer narrowed her eyes. "You don't remember the episode with the cursed vending machine? Or the one where their uncle gets possessed by a singing lizard?"

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Don blinked, visibly confused. 'What the hell kind of show was this?' It sounded like a fever dream and a Cartoon Network pitch meeting rolled into one.

"What?" was all he managed to say.

Summer rolled her eyes and clicked the episode anyway. "We're watching it," she said flatly. "For old time's sake."

Don didn't argue. He just adjusted his position slightly, shifting deeper into the couch. "If you say so."

The screen faded in with a soft doooo~ doo-dooo jingle as the show's theme song started. A sweeping aerial view of a foggy mountain town played, animated in thick lines and deep colors. A raven flew across the sky, cawing as the show's title card slammed onscreen with a dramatic crunch.

Summer's eyes softened slightly at the familiar intro. Her mouth didn't quite smile, but it twitched—barely. She grabbed the remote, lowered the volume a bit, then tossed it to the side without looking.

Don rested his beer on his knee. Summer leaned back, pulling the blanket back over her lap as the episode began.

And for the first time that night… no one was pretending.

Just two siblings, half-drunk, watching something old.

A few minutes into the show, Summer decided to get a little more comfortable.

She shifted, adjusted the blanket over her legs, then casually lifted her feet and dropped them across Don's lap without asking.

They landed with a soft **whump** against his sweatpants.

Don narrowed his eyes slowly and looked down at them like she'd just dumped roadkill in his lap.

"Seriously?" he said, face blank.

Summer raised her brows like he was the unreasonable one. "What?" she replied with a shrug. "You think I'm doing this for me? I owe you. This is me paying you back."

Don blinked once. "Paying "Me" back? For what, being born?" His tone was dry enough to suck moisture from the room.

"For not bailing on movie night halfway through, genius," she said, nudging his stomach lightly with her heel. "Besides… I'm comfortable. So deal with it."

Don let out a small sigh and rested his head back against the couch cushion. "I can't wait to remind you of this next time you complain about me annoying you."

Summer didn't flinch. Instead, she grinned—wide, smug, and irritating.

"You won't," she said, tone far too confident.

Then, after a moment, she added, "Because I'll pretend this never happened."

Don scoffed. Not because it wasn't true—but because it absolutely was.

They didn't say much after that.

The episode moved forward—narration weaving through an animated flashback sequence. Some cursed statue. A haunted PTA meeting. Then a talking dog showed up and tried to sell them insurance. Standard cartoon madness.

Don expected nonsense. What he didn't expect was decent writing.

Sure, the humor was weird, but it worked. And some of the scenes—especially between the brothers—had more emotional weight than he would've admitted out loud. It was goofy, yeah, but it didn't pull punches when it came to the characters' struggles.

Two beers and three episodes in, both of them had fully melted into the couch.

Don had shifted into a slouch, head leaning back, empty can resting on his stomach. Summer was practically horizontal, buried under the blanket, one hand in a bag of chips.

Her feet still rested across Don's lap, half-limp, toes occasionally wiggling during louder scenes.

She found herself quietly rooting for the younger brother—Denny. The one always ignored, always underestimated. He was a little gremlin, sure, but his instincts were sharp, sort of. Everyone else in the show wrote him off. But she saw it… related to it.

Don, meanwhile, kept backing the older one—Jake. Always exhausted. Always fixing other people's messes while juggling school, a cryptid-infested forest, and his own disintegrating sense of reality. It wasn't a stretch, as Don found himself relating due to this new life of his.

Despite them finding relation to characters, neither brought it up and the next episode kicked off, though with a completely different tone.

No music. Just the sound of a slammed door and the sharp echo of cartoon yelling.

Jake and Denny were shouting at their parents—voices exaggerated, arms flailing, faces red with rage. Their dad wanted Jake to enroll in military school while their mom thought Denny would be more "manageable" in an all-girls school after summer break. Neither suggestion landed well.

Summer's expression shifted. Just a little. Lips flattening. Shoulders rising.

She didn't look at Don when she spoke. "…What do you think I should do after school?" she asked, still watching the screen.

Don didn't answer immediately.

Not because he was thinking—but because it wasn't what he expected to hear. He turned his head toward her, raising an eyebrow.

"I dunno," he said, tone casual. "Whatever you want, I guess." He reached over, grabbed his can, took a sip—then added without missing a beat, "I mean, even if you suck at it, I'm here to help."

He took another sip, then glanced sideways. "Unless it's Onlysupporters," he added flatly. "I'm disowning you if you start doing content for simps."

Summer choked on a laugh, her hand jerking up to cover her mouth as she snorted. She aimed a light kick at his side with her heel.

"Oh please," she said, grinning. "I'm not selling my body to some 40-year-olds named Jared for 4.99 like I'm a fucking Happy Meal."

Don cracked a smirk but didn't say anything else right away.

And for a moment, the room felt still.

Not tense. Not weird.

Just… normal.

Like it used to be. Even though Don wasn't truly of this world, the moment felt genuine, like it was truly his. Like this calmness used to be his life and everything just got complicated. It felt like it was before reincarnations and powers and mental training.

The episode kept playing.

But neither of them were really watching anymore.