The red-haired goddess of the house, clad in a modest yukata, enters her brother's room, carrying a basin of warm water. She approaches him silently, her eyes downcast, yet her heart pounding. She begins to wash his feet, her small hands working diligently, moving up his legs, her touch innocent yet stirring. She hesitates at his groin, her cheeks flushing, but her duty compels her, and she gently cleanses him, her breath catching as she feels him grow hard under her touch.