Jacob Lopid, a 10-year-old boy with fair skin, blonde short hair, and vibrant orange clothes, sits at the edge of a pool, swinging his legs in the clear water. He sips cool water from a glass, watching as the light side of Lennyville begins to dim, inching closer to the 9am switch. On the dark side, the first hints of dawn begin to tease the horizon. "One more minute and the world flips again," he mutters, excitement and curiosity flickering in his blue eyes.

Grey Clay, 8 years old, with brown short hair, blue eyes, fair skin, and pink clothes, looks around in confusion from Jacob’s familiar room. Meanwhile, Jacob stares at the pink walls and shelves lined with toy trains in Grey’s room, realizing instantly that something has changed. "Wait...this isn’t my house!" he exclaims, noticing the pink pajamas he now wears.

Grey’s Youngest Brother, in a red shirt, grins as he tosses another red sock into the wash. Grey (in Jacob’s body) tries to protest, but his voice is lost in the flurry of laughter. "If you do that again, you’re banned from watching cartoons! And no dessert—just broccoli ice cream!" he tries to sound stern, but the brothers only giggle, unfazed by the threat.

Jacob sighs, realizing Grey’s younger brothers hardly ever get in real trouble. He remembers his own strict rule—one warning, and privileges disappear. The contrast makes him ponder fairness, resentment, and love. "Maybe there’s more to being a big brother than rules," he whispers, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

"Jacob, are you mad at us?" asks the youngest, his voice small and genuine. "No, but maybe we can all help with the laundry next time—and try broccoli ice cream together. Fair’s fair, right?" The laughter that follows is easy and warm, the bonds of brotherhood stronger than the rules.

Jacob stretches in his orange clothes, glancing at the clean, neatly folded laundry. Across town, Grey sits with his brothers, a bowl of broccoli ice cream in hand, grinning as they all dig in. The vehicles outside shift shapes, the pools shimmer, and the unique rhythm of Lennyville rolls on, held together by love and laughter. "Maybe tomorrow, I’ll try being a little more patient," Jacob thinks, as dawn creeps over the city once more.