Chapter 3: The Ballad of a Good-for-Nothing

The soba shop in the station had updated its limited-time menu.

Smoked nori bento with spicy green curry soba. A dish priced at a hefty 700 yen. The name reeked of gimmickry, but as expected, it was exactly what it sounded like. The toppings were the usual fried items from a nori bento, but with a smoked flavor, and the broth was simply a spicy green curry.

I knew I’d regret ordering it. Not because it was bad, but because it was just… meh.

If I was going to spend 700 yen and feel that way, I’d rather stick with the half-priced plain soba. It’s kinder to both my wallet and my soul, letting me end the day without lingering dissatisfaction.

With that regret in mind, on the first Friday of June,

I stepped through the heavy door that marked the boundary between the ordinary and the extraordinary, ignoring the fact that it wasn’t even open yet.

Greeted silently by a former handsome man turned beautiful woman, I took my usual seat.

Before the hot towel arrived, the first drink was placed in front of me.

“Cheers.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

I downed the drink in one go.

The sound of my throat gulping was like a song of joy. It felt like the grime that had built up over the week was being washed away. And once the dirt was gone, it had to be rinsed off. As soon as I set the glass down, I began spewing out all the complaints and trivial nonsense I’d been holding in.

Well, not exactly.

Fridays used to be about sacrificing Noguchi, but now there was no need for such a noble sacrifice. The purpose of showing up had changed.

“It’s already been a month, huh?”

Gami, watching me set the glass down, murmured as if nostalgically reminiscing about the time that had passed.

“Time flies.”

I, too, found myself lost in the same sentiment.

A month ago. The news that opened a new door to the extraordinary.

“Senpai, let’s have an offline meetup.”

An invitation from Renafalt from the Ten Thousand Realms.

A kouhai I’d known for five years through online games. A friend whose name, face, age, and even gender were unknown to me.

Their true identity turned out to be a big-breasted JK beauty.

Rena, who had run away from home, came all the way here by plane, asking to be hired as a home security guard. She said she wanted to escape reality because her life was at a dead end, and she came here prepared to charge through the battlefield.

It’s already been a month since that day when I accepted such a risk (Rena).

“Tama, you’ve completely lost track of when to send that girl back, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t lost track. I just haven’t thought about it from the start.”

Renafalt of the Ten Thousand Realms is still under the roof of this haunted house.

Yes, a month. For a whole month, Rena has been out of contact with her family. What was once just a runaway girl has now class-changed into a missing person. I’m currently in the process of committing the abduction and kidnapping of a minor.

This is seriously no joke.

According to Rena, even if you search for her name online, it doesn’t come up.

Her running away still hasn’t been discovered. It shouldn’t be possible, but Rena predicted that her family wouldn’t file a missing person report.

Apparently, Rena’s father is a self-made company president who built his business from scratch. He’s highly ambitious and even has his sights set on entering politics in the future.

What he values most is his public image. So, a scandal like his daughter running away and becoming a missing person is something he absolutely can’t expose to the world.

If that’s true, it’s beyond messed up.

“Really, it’ll be something to see when this goes public.”

“What will?”

“You said her parents would never file a report, right? Then that’s the same as neglecting their daughter’s disappearance. When it goes public, I wonder how they’ll explain it to the world.”

“I thought the same thing.”

Even if they claim they didn’t neglect her but simply didn’t know, the public will still criticize them for not knowing. The longer the period of her disappearance, the harsher the backlash will be.

How could they not notice their teenage daughter running away?

“But it seems Rena knows exactly what her father will do.”

“What will he do?”

“First, he’ll push the narrative of being a single father and Rena’s social awkwardness to the forefront. Then, while proudly talking about how capable his eldest daughter is, he’ll say he trusted her to take care of Rena and didn’t realize she’d run away. He’ll admit he relied too much on his eldest daughter and neglected his responsibilities as a father. He’ll even put on a show of crying, saying he should’ve spent more time with his daughters instead of being a workaholic.”

“…That’s quite the story.”

“Well, it’s a solid plan. The real challenge will be how he handles it when the time comes.”

“That’s one thing, but what about her?”

“Rena?”

“A fifteen-year-old girl just confidently said her father would take such measures, didn’t she? That’s pretty serious.”

“Yeah, you’re right…”

“That’s just the kind of parent he is,” Rena concluded, speaking at lightning speed without hesitation, as if she had read a script of the future.

Her feelings toward her father and their relationship were probably all encapsulated in that statement.

“To think you’re taking advantage of such a pitiful child’s future. Tama, you’re truly the epitome of a no-good adult.”

Gami scolded me with a mocking tone.

The reason she said I was “taking advantage” wasn’t just because I accepted Rena running away. It was because I was fully reaping the benefits of it.

“Really, you’ve changed so much, you know.”

“That much?”

“Yes. The current Tama is… sharp.”

Not handsome, not cool, but sharp. I couldn’t possibly not understand what she meant by that. I could feel the changes in myself.

“Truly, one home security guard per household.”

Just a month. Yet, a month.

“Honestly, I can’t go back to life without her now.”

“It’s that bad?”

“I’ve been freed from all household chores, living a life of luxury. The feeling of becoming more and more of a useless human is addicting.”

Cleaning and laundry once a week. Beyond that, as long as dinner was ready when I got home and the dishes were done, that was enough. My expectations for Rena were that simple.

But reality was different. Dishes beyond the recipes I taught her became the norm, and before I knew it, even the aluminum window frames were spotless. She didn’t just iron my shirts—she even brushed my suits.

She was no mere house spirit or brownie.

“Please guide and discipline me. I’m a prodigy, so once I go from zero to one, I’ll grow through the battles. I’ll become the Maid King!”

True to her word, Rena was steadily advancing down the path to becoming the Maid King.

Being “sharp” was precisely the result of her efforts. The improvement in my private life and daily habits was reflected in my appearance and demeanor.

“A shut-in who couldn’t even do basic chores properly is turning an adult into a useless human in just a month. What incredible growth.”

“Right?”

The knowledge needed to live can be found online. Rena, who embodied this and continued to climb higher, was truly a prodigy. That was no exaggeration—if anything, it was an understatement.

“It’s not just cooking, laundry, and cleaning. She keeps finding ways to cut corners in my daily life. I mean, when I get out of the bath, even my towel, underwear, and pajamas are ready.”

“Towel-pan-pa?”

“Towel, underwear, pajamas.”

And it wasn’t just about having those three things ready after a bath. It was about the environment where such things were prepared as a matter of course. It’s a net slang term for a useless man who’s been coddled by his mother and can’t stand on his own.

Was Rena trying to turn me into a “towel-pan-pa”? She was taking care of me so thoroughly that it was almost too much.

“If you keep piling on tasks like this, most people would burn out and mess up somewhere.”

“But she doesn’t, does she?”

“She thought she could do it, so she tried. And of course, she did. That’s all there is to it for her.”

Moreover, she wasn’t doing it out of obligation.

“All I have to do is this much, and then I can do whatever I want? This is a god-tier environment! Reality really is crap. I wanna stay holed up in this haunted house forever!”

She said things like that while happily doing her work.

Her adaptability to the haunted house was remarkable, and she wasn’t even scared anymore. As a sign of respect and gratitude, she cleaned the altar every day and offered the meals she cooked. Those offerings apparently became her lunch the next day. She said preparing meals just for herself was a hassle.

“What a waste. With such a gifted ability, she could’ve achieved so much. But with just one lack—communication skills—a person can fall this far, huh?”

“Falling far is a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

“But it’s the truth. She’s being taken advantage of by a no-good adult like you. If this isn’t falling far, what is?”

“Well, happiness is different for everyone. She’s thriving, you know. She says, ‘This is the most fun I’ve ever had in my life.’”

“Of course she’s having fun. She’s only doing what she likes without thinking about the future.”

Without reproach or anger, Gami stated the obvious.

“The bill for only doing fun things will come due in the future. But kids can’t grasp that because it’s too vague. That’s why adults need to show them the way and guide them.”

“Ah, ouch, ouch. I feel like I’m getting an ear infection.”

“I’m just speaking from the perspective of a model adult, following society’s rails. If that’s making you feel pain, it’s probably your guilty conscience.”

“So, it’s proof that I still have the heart of a model adult.”

“Only if you’re really feeling the pain.”

Gami snorted. She didn’t believe for a second that I was actually feeling any pain.

“Tama, what do you think about her future?”

“Dumbass! A no-good guy like me who can’t even figure out his own future isn’t gonna think about someone else’s!”

“See, I knew it,” Gami burst out laughing.

“If there were such a wonderful adult who thought about a child’s future and acted on it, she’d have given up by now and be stacking stones by the riverbank.”

The proper adult response would only mean despair for Rena. She ran away to me because she hated being forced into that.

The last escape route that everyone has, just one step away from it. She had fled down the wrong path.

“So, well, it’s better than going to the riverbank. That’s what I think.”

◆

“There’s a car here. Want it?”

“Ah, yes, please.”

“I’ll mark it. I’ll roll it with the 8x scope.”

“Nice.”

A smooth, small voice laced with joy.

It’s been five years since I moved into this house. No family, no roommates, and I’ve never invited a single friend over.

I might laugh at things online, but I don’t have the bad habit of muttering complaints while watching TV. I’m not the type to easily slip into talking to myself, so hearing my own voice echo in this house was a rare occurrence.

But now, using my vocal cords at home has become part of my daily routine.

Not just muttering to myself, but through conversations—actual communication.

Since Rena came, life in this house has completely changed.

Rena, self-proclaimed socially anxious stutterer.

Her stuttering was truly terrible. But it wasn’t due to a physical illness or a mental disorder. It was mostly because her vocal cords had weakened from years of being a shut-in. Her dislike for her own stuttering voice only made it worse, creating a vicious cycle.

Lacking confidence in her real self, she had no choice but to become quiet and reserved. Her family probably misunderstood her as naturally shy and passive.

I know Rena’s true personality well. She’s fiercely self-assertive and has a sharp edge that can laugh at others’ misfortunes. She’s grown up fully inheriting my bad influence.

I lent her an unused smartphone, thinking it would be enough if she could just reply with a word or two. The rest would be the usual Rena, communicating as she always did.

Even while stuttering, Rena tried her best to respond with her voice. Despite her insecurities, she was putting in the effort.

Speaking must have been painful for her, but she had to use her voice to improve.

To help Rena overcome her stutter as quickly as possible, I came up with a way to get her to use her voice actively.

That’s the game we’re playing now.

A game where a hundred players scavenge for equipment on a field and fight to be the last one standing.

Unlike MMORPGs, a single moment of hesitation can be fatal. There’s no time for leisurely chatting. If you want to succeed in cooperative play, being able to communicate verbally can make or break the game.

Even before she ran away, Rena and I often enjoyed playing cooperatively.

And when we lost just before the end, Rena would go berserk,

“Screw that potato-headed bastard! I can’t deal with this crap game!!!!!!!”

Raging like crazy.

Don’t underestimate it as just a game. Even I’ve thought, “I’m never playing this crap game again.” But losing is frustrating, so we immediately jump into the next match.

All for the euphoria of winning. This game has an addictive quality, like a drug.

We used to play without voice chat, but now, under the same roof, we set up a folding table in my room and play together. Just being able to communicate verbally with me has increased our win rate.

Naturally, there were many situations where we could’ve won if Rena had used her voice. She seemed aware of this, often frustrated and slamming the table in anger. It genuinely scared me when she did that.

Eventually, Rena started using her voice for more than just one or two-word replies. Focused on the game and prioritizing victory above all, she stopped caring about her own voice.

“There’s a buggy coming from 120 degrees.”

“…Got it, I’ve got the high ground.”

“Whoa, you actually made it out of there while running?”

“Hehe, guaranteed kill.”

The result is this. Even violent conversations flow naturally now. This is the moment when Rena is most alive in this house.

The match is nearing its climax. Only three players remain, including us.

One enemy left. If we lose here, Rena will definitely go ballistic.

“I see him. Behind the tree I just shot.”

“Got any grenades?”

“Nope. You?”

“No. …I’ll take the shot if he peeks. Cover me.”

“Got it, leave it to me.”

Be ready to die if you charge in. That’s what Rena’s instruction means.

“Going in. Three, two, one.”

A nail-biting moment.

I knew I couldn’t win a straight-up gunfight, so I trusted Rena to take the shot.

I jumped out from cover.

Exposing my entire body, I was an easy target. I was riddled with bullets from an assault rifle. But in exchange, the enemy’s head was blown off by Rena’s sniper rifle.

“Yes!”

The joy of victory echoed through the room.

Not from me.

Swiveling my chair around, I saw Rena striking a triumphant pose with both hands. Her face was full of satisfaction, leaning more toward a smug look than a smile.

Noticing my gaze, Rena’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment at her own exuberance.

If we had lost, those raised hands would’ve slammed the table in frustration. Instead, they reached for her headphones and hung them around her neck.

Amused by Rena, I sipped from my tumbler, savoring the victory.

“That last shot was perfect.”

“Th-thanks to you, S-senpai.”

The smooth tongue from earlier was gone. A stuttering, humble reply slipped from her relaxed mouth.

If Renafalt of the Ten Thousand Realms had moved her hands, she would’ve been spouting insults at the enemy with pride. Her mouth and hands still seemed like separate entities.

Still, Rena’s mouth had grown over the past month.

“Ah… w-would you like a refill?”

She was actively speaking more than just yes or no, offering a word or two.

“Yeah, thanks.”

I handed the tumbler to Rena, who had placed her headphones on the table.

Soon, Rena returned with a refill. It wasn’t tea or juice. It was a highball—whiskey mixed with soda.

In other words, I was having a high school girl make me alcohol. The way she noticed the empty glass and quickly refilled it was like something out of a bar. This would definitely anger those advocating for rights and status on social media. Though, before that, what I’m doing is a police matter.

“Rena, you realize something?”

“Wh-what is it?”

Still riding the high of victory, she probably sensed that my question wasn’t a bad one.

Even while stuttering, Rena’s voice carried a cheerful tone.

“You don’t stutter when you’re focused on the game.”

“…Huh?”

Stunned, Rena’s mouth hung open. Presented with an impossible reality, it was as if scales had fallen from her eyes.

Honestly, I hesitated to point this out. Even if it’s only during the game, she speaks smoothly. In terms of the physical function of conversation, it’s definitely a positive influence.

By pointing it out, I worried she might become self-conscious and revert to her usual self.

“If you can talk that fluently, the rest is just a matter of mindset.”

There was that concern, but I also thought it might give her some confidence.

“Like I said before, think about how much nonsense those hands of yours usually spout. Even if it’s just a tenth of that, try letting it flow out of your mouth. If you do, you’ll be able to speak without stuttering, just like during the game.”

I declared this on a whim. It might be irresponsible, but for Rena, this level of push was just right.

I decided to pull her along more forcefully than usual, even if it was rude.

Rena gently touched her lips.

It was as if she was marveling at how this mouth of hers had somehow gained a new function.

Rena lowered her hand from her lips, raised the corners of her mouth slightly, and said,

“Yes. I’ll try to do that from now on.”

“Good, that’s the spirit. Keep it up.”

For the first time, she expressed her intentions without stuttering, even while being conscious of it.

Rena had taken a step toward overcoming her complex. If she kept this up, she’d fully overcome it soon.

What’s more important than innate talent in shaping a person is the environment they’re given.

Being able to do ordinary things as a matter of course, being able to truly put in effort—these things can drastically change a person depending on their environment.

The ones who can provide such an environment for a child are always their parents and society. Expecting a child to achieve it on their own is nothing but irresponsible nonsense.

I want to guide her properly.

But I don’t have the noble spirit of a model adult.

If Rena wants to grow, I just feel like helping her out. And it benefits me too. There’s no downside.

“First, try starting by emptying your head.”

A suggestion befitting a no-good adult with an empty head.

Rena typed furiously on her keyboard, and a notification sound came from her phone.

“Letting momentum take over is one thing, but emptying my head is a bit difficult.”

Right after saying she’d try, she moved her hands instead of her mouth.

“I’m a prodigy, after all. Emptying my head… isn’t as easy as it is for you, Senpai.”

She was provoking me as Renafalt.

I glared at her, but her face showed no fear—instead, she looked even more amused. She knew I wouldn’t get seriously angry over this.

This was the trust she had in me, built up over time.

What a troublesome girl, I thought, as I came up with the next suggestion.

“Don’t worry. There’s an easy way to empty your head.”

“What is it?”

“Alcohol. With this, you can empty your head easily.”

“Recommending alcohol to a child…”

Her message sounded exasperated.

“Though, looking at you now, Senpai… I can see the appeal.”

But her underlying intent was clearly to provoke me at every opportunity.

“If you drink just the right amount, you’ll wake up the next day with your head completely empty.”

“What are you planning to do after getting me that drunk?”

“Morning fun.”

“Eek, I’m gonna get assaulted!”

Rena chuckled. She seemed pleased that I played along with her joke.

“Well, if you ever want to try it, I don’t mind.”

“Senpai, do you know about the Minor Drinking Prohibition Act?”

“That law is nothing compared to the crime of abducting a minor.”

Rena burst out laughing, covering her mouth with both hands.

“If a child wants to try something new, I’ll support them and cheer them on. I wanted to be that cool adult for kids.”

“Respect, Senpai. The way you phrase things is just too funny.”

Rena’s cheeks had been relaxed this whole time.

She trusted that I wasn’t serious about getting her drunk and taking her to the battlefield.

“Thanks for the concern. I’ll pass, though.”

This was Rena’s honest, unfiltered response.

“If something happens, I can’t take care of you at the hospital.”

I had completely forgotten about that. My head really was empty.

“Yeah, that’s true.”

◆

It was already past mid-June, nearing the end of the month.

It’s been almost two months since I hired Rena. Time flies.

I’m fully aware that what I’m doing is socially wrong. If this ever came to light, everything I’ve built in this society would crumble, and I’d end up eating prison food. No matter what Rena’s circumstances are, I know that’s the likely outcome.

For now, there’s no sign of that happening.

So today, like every other day, I finished work peacefully without overtime, maintaining my lowly status.

My workplace is in a high-rise office building in the city. During the day, the building is overflowing with suited salarymen like trash. The similar schedules for commuting, lunch breaks, and leaving work mean the elevators are often packed, and it’s common to be left waiting.

Country folks dreaming of a shiny, happy city life might even envy such inconvenient daily scenes. They dream of joining the ranks of suited salarymen in those sleek office buildings.

As a former country boy, let me tell those dreamers the truth: you can easily join our ranks.

A beautiful office building filled with suited salarymen might seem like an ideal combination at first glance. You might think it’s filled with wonderful people… but that’s a misunderstanding.

Open the lid, and you’ll find dead-eyed fat guys, overly made-up middle-aged women who look perpetually annoyed, bald old men and greasy-haired guys chatting about brothels in the elevator, and noisy thirty-somethings spouting unrealistic marriage fantasies.

The scene of these monstrous salarymen crowding the building is like a parade of demons. This building is practically a modern-day haunted house.

The kind of workplace that employs such ghostly salarymen isn’t anything special. If you find a job posting that promises fulfillment and a homely atmosphere, anyone can easily work in this haunted house.

The lower floors of the building house convenience stores and restaurants, so there are plenty of opportunities to make use of them.

Today, I went to the convenience store to redeem some fried chicken I won in a social media retweet campaign, shamelessly using the store without buying anything else.

The pedestrian deck on the third floor of the building connects directly to the station.

Just as I was biting into the chicken and swallowing it,

“Tamachi.”

A voice called out to me, perfectly timed.

Turning around, I saw a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and black-framed glasses. He was wearing a well-tailored suit, the kind of person who’s impossible to find interesting no matter how hard you try. And I knew his name was just as unremarkable.

“Ah, Sasaki-san. Good work today.”

After all, he’s my boss.

Due to the nature of my job as a programmer and the department I’m in, I rarely interact with people outside the company. Our job is to silently turn specifications into code. That’s all the company asks of us.

That’s why this workplace, full of otakus, introverts, and socially awkward types, prioritizes appearance and cleanliness as secondary concerns. These guys don’t have girlfriends to take care of them, let alone female friends who’d make them look good, so they’ve completely neglected that aspect, leaving the office perpetually damp and gloomy.

On the other hand, Sasaki-san, who interacts with outsiders frequently, is expected to maintain a decent appearance and cleanliness appropriate for his age. That’s why, despite being single, he keeps himself well put together.

“You’re leaving at this hour? That’s rare.”

As a manager, Sasaki-san is always busy with one thing or another.

I wonder if he ever has days without overtime. I said it was rare, but if this is true, it might be the first time I’ve seen Sasaki-san leave on time.

“What, I’m heading straight out for some miso katsu.”

“Huh, now…?”

As expected, Sasaki-san wasn’t that lenient.

This kind of phrasing is usually laced with sarcasm toward the company. It’s a common phrase when heading out on a business trip, implying that you can’t survive without eating the local specialty.

It seems this time, the destination is Nagoya.

“Lately, you’ve been living so peacefully. I’m jealous.”

He wasn’t comparing himself, about to go on a business trip, to me. Even though I’m not chasing deadlines, while everyone else is working overtime, I’m the only one leaving on time every day with a casual, “See you tomorrow.”

Just the usual sarcasm from a boss.

“Thanks to you, I’ve been able to live peacefully.”

Not really. I knew it was just a light jab, so I tossed it back.

Sasaki-san’s slightly raised lips showed no sign of displeasure.

“I heard you’ve finished your assigned tasks and are now helping out. What brought on this change of heart?”

“Staring at the screen pretending to work is boring, so I thought I’d sell some favors while I’m at it.”

“A sudden improvement in performance. If there’s a secret to that, I’d love to hear it.”

“I could tell you, but it’d be wasted on you, Sasaki-san.”

“Don’t be coy. What is it?”

“Taking care of your liver.”

Sasaki-san, a potential alcoholic, frowned as if he’d tasted something bitter. I laughed at his grimace.

I wasn’t lying—I’ve actually been drinking less. The bad habit of drinking until right before bed is gone. I don’t want Rena to see me in a pathetic state, so I stop drinking two hours before bed. Plus, I need to avoid morning fun if I wake up drunk.

But the main reason for my improved focus and performance at work is the escape from household chores and a fulfilling private life. If I told him that, he’d probably assume I got a girlfriend, so I deflected with the liver comment.

“Katagiri’s confused too. He’s wondering what’s gotten into you, Tamachi.”

Katagiri is the team leader, a senior employee with the face of a socially awkward guy.

“It’s frustrating that I can only praise you.”

“If you’re that frustrated, just give me a raise.”

“Oh? Should I?”

When I joked, Sasaki-san’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Alright. Then I’ll give you a fair evaluation, including everything up to now.”

“…No, the current arrangement is fine.”

I quickly backtracked, realizing I’d opened a can of worms.

Since joining this company, I’ve never gotten a raise. It’s all up to Sasaki-san’s discretion. No matter how well I perform, I don’t get the corresponding evaluation.

To an outsider, Sasaki-san might seem like a terrible boss. But to me, he’s the best.

After all, if I were properly evaluated, I’d be expected to take on more responsibilities.

What I hate more than anything is responsibility. The second thing I hate is overtime.

This is my eighth year in the industry.

My sixth year at this company.

My salary is barely above that of someone who joined the industry with no experience. I’m truly at the bottom.

But I’m not resigned to it—I’m staying by choice. I like the lukewarm comfort of my current life and don’t want to work harder than I have to.

“Are you really okay with staying like this?”

Sasaki-san suddenly spoke in a serious tone.

“If you’re willing, I can let you try new things and back you up.”

“If I had that kind of ambition, I’d have changed jobs already. If I’m going to try new things, I’d rather do it somewhere that pays better.”

“Well, that’s true.”

“The reason I haven’t is because I’ve been blessed with a good boss. And also because I’m the kind of person who can do it if I try.”

Sasaki-san snorted, as if to say I was a hopeless case.

He wasn’t embarrassed by the compliment about being a good boss. He was exasperated by my self-deprecating “I can do it if I try” attitude. He knew it wasn’t self-praise but self-mockery.

“First, I’ll try to live until I’m thirty. That’s my life goal.”

“What about after that?”

“Haven’t thought about it. I’ll figure it out when the time comes.”

“If you stay like this, it’ll be tough when you reach my age.”

“If I become incompetent, I’ll deal with it then. If I can’t survive in this industry…”

I trailed off, realizing I hadn’t thought that far.

After all, I don’t have anything I want to do.

I don’t have any bright future prospects.

Honestly, I’m not even seeking the happiness society talks about.

I don’t want to die, but I don’t want to struggle to live either.

There’s this nonsense about how just being alive is wonderful. I don’t mind if others preach it, but I can’t stand those who try to force it on me.

I hate the trend of “Let’s all work hard together” with a passion.

“Yeah.”

That’s why I came up with it.

Something I want to do.

“I’ll rely on some heartless acquaintance and try something new, I guess.”

◆

The humid rainy season is truly unpleasant.

Before moving to the city, I had no idea humidity could affect daily life so much. Born in the rural backwaters of Hokkaido, summers were manageable with just a fan, and tropical nights were unheard of. The concept of a rainy season didn’t exist. That said, it’s not like the weather is comfortable year-round. Being a snowy region, it balances out, if not tips into the negative.

Every year, summers get hotter and hotter. Back in the day, temperatures over 35 degrees would cause an uproar as abnormal weather. But now, temperatures exceeding 35 degrees are a daily occurrence.

Looking outside Tokyo, there’s a competition for the title of Japan’s hottest town. Instead of lamenting temperatures over 40 degrees, some even take pride in it. People are now arguing over the placement of regional weather observation systems, accusing each other of cheating. The futile battle to prove the heat even after relocating the systems is proof that the heat is frying people’s brains. It’s a scene straight out of a hellish painting.

Another scorching summer is on its way.

The beginning of July, already dreading the relentless rise in temperature.

“It’s so hot…”

A ridiculous summer with a high of 36 degrees has hit us all at once.

The temperature difference from yesterday is a whopping 10 degrees. The humidity, likely due to last night’s rain, makes it even more unbearable.

It’s evening, and I’m leaving on time, but the lingering heat from the 36-degree day hits me the moment I step outside, causing sweat to pour out of me. Having spent the day in an air-conditioned office, the contrast is jarring.

On a day like this, nothing beats an ice-cold beer.

I downed a glass at Gami’s place, said a quick “Thanks for the meal,” and left in under two minutes. I’ve fully embraced the freeloader lifestyle, and I expect it to continue for at least three months.

My stomach, once cooled, began to heat up again as I made my way home, finally arriving at my doorstep.

I wondered what dinner would be today.

With that thought in mind, I slipped through the scorching hell of the entrance and into the living room.

“Ugh…!”

I couldn’t help but grimace.

The living room, which I had hoped would be cool, was just as hot as the entrance, trapping the day’s heat.

“…Welcome back.”

Rena peeked out from the kitchen, dressed in her usual hoodie and shorts.

Her flushed face wasn’t from embarrassment—it was from the heat. Beads of sweat were visibly dripping from her forehead.

Her smile, meant to greet her employer, looked exhausted.

“Hey, hey.”

I grabbed the remote from the altar and turned on the air conditioner. I mashed the buttons, lowering the temperature from the preset 28 degrees to its limit.

“Why wasn’t the AC on?”

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

Rena looked apologetic.

“I should’ve turned it on before you got back.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Huh…?”

“Why didn’t you turn it on when you were sweating like this?”

Rena rarely opens the windows during the day. With no airflow, the indoors had turned into a sauna. It must’ve been even hotter than the peak temperature outside.

Not using the AC in such conditions? Was she holding some kind of endurance contest? I wanted to grill her for an hour.

“Um, well…”

Rena clenched her fist against her chest, covering it with her other hand.

“The electricity bill—oww!”

Hearing her reason for not using the AC, my hand instinctively shot toward her face. It wasn’t a punch or a slap—it was a flick. A full-on, middle-finger-drawn flick to the forehead.

Thud, a dull sound echoed.

“Are you stupid? If you collapse from saving a few yen on the electricity bill, what then?”

I scolded Rena, who was holding her forehead in pain. My voice wasn’t raised, but it carried enough anger.

“I don’t want to come home to find you as a heatstroked Buddha.”

“Ah, uhh…”

“Besides, isn’t this exactly why you handed over that stack of cash?”

Rena had given me a bundle of 10,000-yen bills, asking me to deduct her living expenses from it. While I was shocked by the amount, I couldn’t help but frown at the relationship between Rena and her father, who could casually hand over such a sum.

A proper adult would’ve refused the money, but I’m no proper adult. If this meant Rena could live comfortably without worry, I decided to keep it.

And yet, she’s worried about the electricity bill?

“Weren’t you the one who said you couldn’t rely on hospitals?”

“I’m… sorry.”

Rena finally realized the danger of what she hadn’t done. Her voice was strained as she apologized.

I knew Rena didn’t mean any harm. She hadn’t enjoyed this endurance contest-like environment. She must’ve wanted to use the AC but held back out of concern for the household expenses.

But that kind of thoughtless consideration was unnecessary if she wanted to keep living like this. That’s why I had the cash.

“Taking care of your health is part of the job. Don’t ever do something so pointless again.”

“Yes… I’m sorry.”

Rena apologized again, properly chastised.

This was the first time she’d been seriously scolded since coming here. It wasn’t unfair—it was her own carelessness that caused it.

Being scolded and her own mistake.

Rena took it all in, her face on the verge of tears.

I didn’t want to berate her more than necessary.

“Here, go take a shower already.”

Well, this much should be enough.

My voice softened as I patted Rena’s head, signaling that I wasn’t angry anymore.

“Um, Senpai, you should go first…”

Her teary, upturned eyes pleaded.

Even after all that, she still hesitated to go before me.

What a troublesome girl.

If she’s going to be this considerate, I’ll have to be as harsh as the north wind.

“Man, you’re drenched in sweat.”

Her hair was completely soaked.

“No wonder you smell so strongly of sweat.”

“Huh!?”

Caught off guard, Rena panicked.

Unless it’s really bad, people usually don’t notice their own body odor. She must’ve been so focused on the heat that she hadn’t realized.

The deepening red on her cheeks wasn’t from the heat.

“I-Is it… that b-bad?”

Pushed into a corner by embarrassment, Rena’s stutter, which had been absent lately, returned.

“No, it’s not bad.”

“Ah, that’s a relief…”

“It’s just… stronger than usual. Like, it’s the kind of smell that could be used for sexual exploitation.”

“Ah, ah…”

My honest comment made Rena’s face look like it was about to burst into flames. She let out a strangled sound.

“If you’re saying, ‘I want to satisfy Senpai’s sexual desires!’ then sure, I wouldn’t mind exploiting you.”

“I-I’m going to shower right now!”

Thoroughly humiliated, Rena dashed to the bathroom.

I smirked as I watched her retreating back, weighed down by embarrassment.

◆

The sticky, clinging sensation washed away as the water flowed over my skin. Despite the water being warmer than my body temperature, it felt cool and refreshing.

My overheated head began to clear.

I reflected on the scolding I’d received from Senpai and acknowledged my mistake.

I didn’t know exactly how much the electricity bill for the AC would be, but I knew it wasn’t comparable to a fan.

Back home, I’d used it without a second thought, like it was nothing.

But ever since Senpai started taking care of me, I’d become more conscious of these things. I couldn’t let myself waste the money Senpai worked so hard to earn.

That’s why I hesitated to use the AC, forgetting that I’d been given money for exactly this kind of situation. In the end, all I did was worry, and now I was showering before Senpai, who had just returned from work.

I’d made Senpai worry about me.

Even though he joked about my sweat smell and sexual desires, I knew he wasn’t trying to humiliate me.

For a prodigy like me to make such a mistake… It must be the price for underestimating Tokyo’s summer heat. My brain had been completely boiled, making it impossible to think clearly.

To be thorough, I washed my hair and body twice, then poured cold water over myself to cool down my overheated body.

After finishing my shower, I stepped into the changing area and—

“Ah…”

I realized my brain really had been boiled.

I’d forgotten to prepare my change of clothes and a towel.

On top of that, I’d already thrown my sweaty clothes into the washing machine.

I’ve really done it now…

Asking Senpai to bring me a towel wasn’t an option. Knowing him, if I asked, he’d definitely tease me about my earlier mistake.

There was nothing to cover my naked body, but I found something to dry myself with.

Using the hand towel from the sink, I wiped myself just enough to stop the dripping and peeked into the hallway from the changing area.

Senpai wasn’t there. Since the living room had the AC on, there was no reason for him to be in the scorching hallway.

I considered checking the living room but shook my head. I didn’t have the mental fortitude to dash through the house naked. I needed to gear up first.

Clutching the hand towel to my chest, I bolted upstairs to grab some laundry I’d hung out to dry earlier.

I slid open the closet and looked at the laundry rack.

“Ugh…”

I let out a pitiful sound, cursing my past self.

Of course, on a day like this, all my clothes and towels had already been collected. All that was left were Senpai’s dress shirts and underwear.

“Uuu… uhh…”

After much internal debate, I decided that wearing a dress shirt was better than being completely naked. I reached for one of Senpai’s shirts. As much as I wanted to grab some underwear too, my maidenly pride won out.

Unlike my earlier sprint, I tiptoed back downstairs. I checked the frosted glass door leading to the living room for any signs of movement. Seeing none, I quickly moved to the door.

Slowly opening it, I peeked into the living room.

No one was there. The only thing making its presence known was the altar.

Senpai must’ve been in his room, waiting for me to finish my shower.

Confirming Senpai’s absence in my mind, I prepared to make a run for it.

Click.

The sound didn’t come from the door I was holding or the living room. It came from behind me.

Followed by the sound of running water,

“Ah…”

Senpai had just come out of the bathroom.

My body froze as if I’d encountered Medusa. Like a statue in a museum, I didn’t move a muscle, while Senpai stared at me without looking away.

“Well, well.”

The observer of this exhibit said,

“Thank you.”

Just like always, he expressed his gratitude.

Home security guard, day one of employment. Emotions even more intense than before welled up inside me.

“Qwertyuiopasdfghjkl…

”

After that, I abandoned all my duties and fully embraced the essence of being a home security guard.

◆

Last night, Rena’s mouse broke.

Apparently, it was a relatively new mouse, bought just six months ago. If it was due to wear and tear, it was way too soon. If it was a cheap 500-yen mouse, you’d expect it to be low quality. For around 1,000 yen, you’d think it’d be decent enough.

But Rena’s mouse was a gaming-grade one. It cost three times as much as the one I bought for myself, which I thought was a bit of a splurge. If it broke due to wear and tear, it was clearly defective.

However, I knew the mouse wasn’t defective.

The reason it broke was,

“Ugh, seriously…!”

Rena had lost her temper during a game and handled the mouse roughly.

Even though it was during a game, Rena, who initially kept her frustrations to herself, had started to show her true colors as Renafalt of the Ten Thousand Realms in front of me.

Whether this could be called growth or not was a tricky question.

I lent her an old, cheap mouse I had lying around, but it couldn’t keep up with her skills, leading to a vicious cycle of frustration. It was like the weapon’s performance couldn’t match the user’s abilities.

We had planned to spend the weekend playing battle royale games together, but this happened.

If I ordered a new mouse with express delivery, it would arrive the next day, but I couldn’t predict the exact time. If it arrived by early afternoon, that’d be great, but it was more likely to come in the evening. Until then, forcing Rena to use the cheap mouse would only build up her frustration. The best course of action would be to wait, but that didn’t seem to be an option for Rena.

At the start of August, with scorching heat expected, I found myself exposed to the blazing sun.

I made a mad dash to an electronics store in the subcenter of the city, about ten minutes from the nearest station, before the sun reached its peak. I visited about four stores before finding the mouse Rena wanted. I sighed, realizing I could’ve just called to ask and saved myself the trouble.

Even though it was only late morning, stepping outside felt like entering a blazing inferno. Knowing it would only get hotter, the smart choice was to head home quickly.

But my overheated body demanded hydration and a place to rest.

I was about to enter a café I spotted but stopped myself. I remembered the last time I went to a famous chain café, where a simple iced coffee cost over 600 yen.

I quickly turned around and headed to a chain hamburger shop on the first floor of the building instead.

And that’s how I ended up sitting by the window, sipping a giant iced coffee.

Apparently, a campaign had just started today, where for an extra 100 yen, you could get three times the amount. I ordered it on impulse, but I quickly regretted it—this was way too much.

The taste was decent for a chain hamburger shop, but my homemade cold brew coffee was both cheaper and tastier. My inner cost-conscious self was screaming.

I was halfway through the coffee and already bored with it. Not wanting to waste it, I sipped slowly when,

“Oh, Tama-san?”

An unexpected voice called out.

It wasn’t high-pitched or hoarse. It was more of a girl’s voice than a woman’s.

I turned around and locked eyes with a girl who looked surprised to see me.

With her chestnut hair tied up in a half-up style, she wasn’t the type to be called a beauty at first glance. But in terms of attractiveness, she was undoubtedly on the prettier side—a classic “cute girl.” The kind of girl who’d make other girls jealous.

Her charm was almost calculated, the kind of cuteness that might rub some people the wrong way.

Bright, cheerful, and polished, she was the kind of college girl you’d be proud to introduce to anyone. The gap between her and me, a bottom-tier high school graduate turned bottom-tier office worker, was like heaven and earth. No matter what I did, I could never get close to someone like her.

“Oh, hey. Kurumi-chan.”

That’s why it felt like a miracle that I even knew she was a college student and that she called me “Tama-san.”

“What a coincidence, running into you here.”

“If the staff heard you call this place ‘here,’ they might get mad, you know?”

“Haha, you’re right. Mind if I sit next to you?”

“Go ahead,” I said, gesturing to the seat beside me.

Looking around, the seats were nearly full. Seeing the iced café au lait on her tray, she must’ve been wandering around looking for a seat when she happened to spot me.

“This is the first time we’ve met outside the shop, huh?”

“Technically, it’s the first time since we first met. I never thought I’d run into you outside the shop.”

Her cheerful voice and radiant smile were almost too good for a bottom-tier office worker like me. It was the kind of smile that could make you misunderstand things.

But I knew it was just her professional smile. “Kurumi-chan” wasn’t her real name—it was a stage name. She was the top-ranked girl at a high-end club where money bought a night of companionship, and I was one of her regulars.

Well, not exactly.

She was a regular at Gami’s bar. Nicknamed “Kurumi-chan” after a play on her surname, she was one of Gami’s favorites. Thanks to a small twist of fate, we became acquaintances, and whenever we ran into each other at the bar, she’d casually sit next to me and say, “Oh, Tama-san, good evening.”

Sharing drinks with a cute college girl like Kurumi-chan was always a delightful event. But since she was a first-year student at a prestigious university, I couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place.

“Tama-san, you’re always in a suit, so this feels kinda fresh.”

Kurumi-chan looked me up and down, her lips curling into a smile that revealed her white teeth.

We usually met on Fridays after work, so this was indeed the first time she’d seen me out of a suit. Not that my current outfit was anything special—just a casual shirt and black pants.

“Speaking of which, Kurumi-chan, you’re always in a different outfit every time I see you. How many do you even have?”

“Hmm, a lot.”

She tried to count but quickly gave up. She probably had so many that she couldn’t keep track.

Her simple outfit of a blouse and skirt was far from plain. It was likely a brand-name outfit, but she wore it effortlessly, not the other way around. With her looks, she could’ve been in a fashion magazine.

“Ahh, I feel alive again.”

Kurumi-chan sipped her iced café au lait through a straw. The way her lips pursed and her throat moved as she swallowed was oddly captivating. It was her cuteness that made even the simplest actions seem alluring.

“It’s really unbearable, this heat.”

“Oh, right, you’re from Sapporo, aren’t you? How’s your first summer in Tokyo treating you?”

“I’d heard it was hot, but… it’s more like, insidious, you know?”

I burst out laughing at her unexpected choice of words.

Not just humid or sticky, but insidious. It was like she was personally insulting Tokyo’s summer.

“I get it. I’m from Hokkaido too, so I know how oppressive this heat can feel.”

“Wait, really? Are you from Sapporo too?”

“Nah, just some backwater town.”

I thought of my hometown, a place I had no intention of ever returning to. Recent news about it came to mind.

“Remember that incident about a month ago, where a classmate was stabbed to death in a classroom?”

“Oh, the one where the bullying victim turned on their tormentor, right? There was a huge uproar about the school turning a blind eye to the bullying.”

“That’s my alma mater.”

“Seriously!?”

Kurumi-chan’s eyes widened in shock, but then she tilted her head cutely, a look of confusion on her face.

“…Wait. But that place isn’t really that rural, is it?”

“Compared to the great metropolis of Sapporo, that place might as well be the countryside.”

Any local hearing that would probably be furious, but I had no attachment to that town. Calling it a backwater was more than enough.

“But weren’t you shocked that something like that happened at your old school?”

“Not really. If anything, I was impressed that the school hadn’t learned anything from the past.”

“Learned nothing?”

“When I was a senior, a classmate hanged themselves because of bullying.”

“What…?”

“By the way, that was my TV debut. If you look it up online, you might find footage of me from back then.”

“Um… were you close with that person?”

Kurumi-chan hesitated but looked up at me, trying to keep the conversation going.

“No, not at all. I was surprised that a classmate had killed themselves, but I didn’t feel sad. I just thought, ‘This is going to be a hassle.’”

“Wait, what…?”

“And just so you know, this wasn’t just me. It was the whole class, including the homeroom teacher. No one said it out loud, but it was the general consensus.”

Kurumi-chan’s eyes told me she couldn’t believe it.

“You know, all that talk about holding hands and sharing joys and sorrows—it’s just empty words. Someone like you, who grew up in a privileged environment, probably can’t understand that feeling. Oh, don’t take that the wrong way. I’m just saying the adults at that school were really terrible people.”

“Adults…? Not the students?”

“You know that saying? ‘Children’s misfortunes are born from the unconscious incompetence, negligence, and irresponsible shifting of blame by adults.’”

“Who said that?”

“A famous person you’ve seen on TV, Kurumi-chan.”

She furrowed her brow, thinking hard, but after about ten seconds, she gave up.

“First Tamachi.”

“That’s you, Tama-san.”

Kurumi-chan covered her mouth with both hands and burst out laughing at my deadpan delivery.

“The important thing is that it’s all just empty, pretty words. When problems arise because there’s no substance, they shift the blame onto the kids to save face. That’s the kind of school it was. Back then, I got caught up in all that mess, and it was a huge pain.”

“What happened?”

“I got handed the responsibility ball and hit a goodbye home run. It’s not a particularly interesting story.”

That incident wasn’t exactly a dark chapter of my life, but it wasn’t something I could casually share with just anyone. Especially not someone as proper as Kurumi-chan. The only person I could joke about it with was Rena.

By the way, Gami was involved back then, and she remembers it as a glorious chapter of her youth. Typical of someone as heartless as her.

“It’s just… exhausting, isn’t it?”

Kurumi-chan sighed and took another sip of her drink.

“Every time you turn on the TV, it’s all about who’s to blame, whose fault it is. Why can’t people just take responsibility for themselves? Why can’t society be like that?”

“Unfortunately, a society built on such ideals will never come to be.”

“No dreams, no hope, huh?”

“This society was built on the first wisdom humans ever gained. And that foundation is rotten. Expecting a society of ideals to grow from it is pointless.”

“The first wisdom?”

“The way of living that cares about others’ opinions and the art of shifting blame. It’s like when God kicked those people out of paradise because they’d gained knowledge from the bad snake. That wisdom was just that terrible.”

I took a sip of my giant iced coffee. Maybe because I’d been talking so much, the taste I’d grown tired of suddenly seemed enjoyable again.

“No matter how ugly the inside is, as long as the outside looks pretty, people think they can get away with anything. That’s the kind of society we live in. It’s too late to fix it now.”

“It’s like terminal cancer.”

“Terminal, indeed. For example, what do you think about sending a thousand paper cranes to disaster areas?”

“Hmm…? Isn’t that a good thing? It’s the thought that counts, right?”

“Even though it delays the delivery of essential supplies like food that should’ve reached the victims immediately?”

“Ah…”

“Ignorance is a sin, but it’s forgivable if you reflect on it. But when people say, ‘It’s the thought that counts,’ or ‘At least it’s better than doing nothing,’ they’re just satisfying their own egos under the guise of helping the poor. It’s all about maintaining a pretty facade while committing empty, self-serving acts.”

“A pretty facade with no substance, huh?”

Kurumi-chan made a bitter face.

“That hits close to home.”

“It’s just the ramblings of a cynical bottom-tier worker. Don’t take it too seriously.”

“No… my love life has been exactly like that.”

Kurumi-chan covered her face in embarrassment.

“I always fall for the idea of fate or something dramatic, so I end up getting hurt every time.”

“I see. Falling for Kurumi-chan must be like shooting fish in a barrel for guys. The downside of getting into a relationship before knowing the other person’s true self, I guess.”

“My best friend told me the same thing. She said, ‘You reach a relationship based on your cuteness before love or affection has a chance to grow in the other person’s heart. In that sense, your cuteness is a sin.’ I had to admit she was right.”

“Oh, so you’re aware you’re cute?”

“Do you dislike women who are aware of their cuteness?”

“No, I actually prefer women who are self-aware. People who aren’t self-aware tend to be the worst.”

“Hehe, I’m glad to hear that from you, Tama-san.”

Kurumi-chan smiled brightly at me. I could handle it because I had a realistic view of myself, but it was still easy to misinterpret her intentions.

“Right now, I’ve found a new love, so I’m trying to take my best friend’s advice seriously.”

There it was. Like the cheerful college girl she was, she was living her best life. Someone like me, a bottom-tier office worker, didn’t stand a chance.

“I see. I hope this time it’s a decent guy who deserves you.”

“Thank you. By the way, do you have a girlfriend, Tama-san?”

“Not right now.”

The words came out reflexively, sounding hollow and clichéd.

“Oh, ‘not right now,’ huh? Just out of curiosity, what was your last girlfriend like?”

She followed up with a relentless question, assuming that someone like me must have a past. It was an innocent but cutting remark from a cheerful college girl.

What exactly was she planning to do with that information? I wanted to grill her for an hour.

Trying to buy time, I took a sip of my iced coffee. I needed to come up with a fictional girlfriend before I finished this drink.

I wanted to keep the admiration of this cute college girl, so I racked my brain for an answer. But before I could respond, Kurumi-chan’s attention shifted elsewhere.

She suddenly tapped on the window in front of us.

A passerby on the other side noticed and waved back at her.

It was a girl around Kurumi-chan’s age—another stunning beauty.

“A friend of yours?”

“That’s my best friend. We were supposed to meet here.”

So, my savior had arrived.

I stood up quickly.

“Well, I’ll take my leave then.”

I decided to escape before the interrogation about my fictional girlfriend could continue.

“Huh? You’re leaving already?”

“There aren’t any seats left, so I’ll let your friend have this one.”

“That’s kind of you, but… I was hoping to introduce you to her.”

“What’s the point of introducing someone like me? See you at Gami’s bar.”

It was clear she wasn’t just being polite, but I brushed off her attempt to keep me there and made my exit.

I left behind a quarter of my iced coffee, feeling a bit wasteful, but it couldn’t be helped.

As I was about to leave the shop, I noticed Kurumi-chan’s best friend standing in line to order.

I stopped and observed her for a moment.

She was just as beautiful as Kurumi-chan. If Kurumi-chan was “cute,” this girl was “gorgeous.” She had the kind of black hair and delicate features that would make any socially awkward guy fall head over heels.

There was something familiar about her.

I felt like I’d seen someone like her before, but I couldn’t remember if it was on TV or online.

She noticed me staring, and our eyes met.

Her expression didn’t show annoyance or discomfort—she just looked away indifferently, as if used to being stared at by men.

I didn’t linger either and left the shop.

I returned home drenched in sweat.

Stepping into the air-conditioned living room felt like being brought back to life.

“Welcome back.”

Our home security guard greeted me, but today, it wasn’t the employer she was waiting for—it was the mouse. Her eyes were glued to the shopping bag in my hand.

“Yeah, I’m home…”

I stared at her face and suddenly remembered where I’d seen that familiarity before.

Kurumi-chan’s best friend looked a bit like Rena. It was as if Rena had grown up healthy and confident, she might’ve turned out like that.

Almost like sisters.

Come to think of it, Rena’s older sister was in Tokyo, attending university. She was also a first-year student.

“No way, right?”

Such a coincidence was too far-fetched. It couldn’t be… probably.

◆

The scorching summer continued to break records day after day.

The world no longer saw this as abnormal weather, simply brushing it off with a casual, “It’s hot today.”

Despite the heat, summer events were in full swing—beach trips, fireworks festivals, barbecues, and summer festivals. It seemed like everyone was determined to enjoy the heat, living their best lives.

For a home security guard like me, these events were irrelevant. I had no interest in them whatsoever.

Don’t pity me, though. My days were spent in air-conditioned comfort, fulfilling my duties, and my nights were filled with gaming sessions with my employer. It was a fulfilling and enjoyable life.

On the other hand, what about those enjoying summer events? Were they truly happy, sweating through meaningless jobs with no sense of fulfillment? At least from what I saw of Senpai, work was something to be endured, not enjoyed.

At the very least, I was confident that my daily happiness index was higher than that of the so-called “real-life pros.” It would take a summer event or two for them to even come close to matching my level of happiness.

Truly pitiful.

But if they still think they’re better, they’re welcome to challenge me anytime.

I’ll be waiting at the top.

Perhaps my disdain for those “real-life pros” had reached them.

One day, I found myself dragged into a summer heat-relief event.

While doing my usual chores during the day, I heard a noise at the entrance.

The sound of someone fumbling with the lock, trying to open the door.

Had Senpai come home early from work?

I quickly shook my head. If it were Senpai, he’d have his key, and he’d definitely let me know if he was coming home early.

It wasn’t a delivery either. They wouldn’t try to open the door without ringing the doorbell.

Was it a thief drawn to the haunted house? Or perhaps a curious enthusiast who saw value in it?

Honestly, a poltergeist would’ve been easier on my heart. At least I could’ve thought, Oh, it’s just a ghost.

Nervously, I peeked out from the living room to observe the situation.

The mailbox on the door opened. But no mail was delivered.

Two eyes peered inside.

I quickly pulled my head back, covering my mouth and trembling.

About ten seconds later, I heard the mailbox close.

The door didn’t make any more noise.

Had they given up?

Just as I started to relax, the living room door rattled violently.

I swallowed a scream.

If the noise had come from the altar, it would’ve been a relief. If the figurines had come to life, I’d have had a playmate for the day, which would’ve been delightful.

Unfortunately, no such supernatural phenomenon occurred. The uninvited guest hadn’t given up and was still trying to break in.

Paralyzed with fear, I dropped to my knees, crawling on all fours.

Trembling, I slowly approached the door, careful not to make a sound.

It wasn’t curiosity—I couldn’t just sit in the corner, shaking and waiting for the storm to pass. I had to see for myself.

Even though the curtains were drawn, there were still small gaps.

I tilted my head and peeked through one of those gaps with both eyes.

Sure enough, someone was there.

They were also peeking inside with one eye.

As I looked up at them, they slowly lowered their gaze.

Our eyes met.

“Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

A piercing scream echoed.

It wasn’t me. The uninvited guest had screamed. From the sound of it, it seemed to be a young woman.

Leaving the scream behind, she bolted away like a startled rabbit.

My legs gave out, and I couldn’t move for a while. All my chores were left undone as I retreated to my room, silently waiting for Senpai to return.

When Senpai came home, I tearfully recounted the day’s terrifying experience.

“Well, this is a famous haunted spot. Things like this happen.”

He acted like it was no big deal.

“This happens often?”

“A few times a year. That’s why I’ve taken measures to make it hard to break in.”

Apparently, Senpai had high security awareness.

I realized I should’ve just stayed quiet in the corner and felt a pang of guilt.

“I’m… sorry.”

“Huh? For what?”

“I… got seen.”

Even if it was just my eyes, someone had seen me.

The scream had likely drawn the attention of the neighbors.

My existence wasn’t supposed to be known. I’d burdened Senpai with unnecessary risk.

“Ah, don’t worry about it.”

Yet Senpai spoke to me gently.

“This house is notorious enough to be ostracized by the neighborhood. If one suspicious person causes a fuss, they’ll just think, That house again? and move on. If anything, I’m glad the windows didn’t get broken.”

He patted my head.

“The house was peaceful today. You’re really living up to your role as a home security guard.”

He joked with a smile.

The weight in my chest lifted, and I found myself laughing too.

This was the summer event I’d been dragged into.

A terrifying experience that made me forget the heat—a test of courage where I was the one being scared.

◆

Recently, the kitchen in our house has fallen under Rena’s control.

For a single adult man, I took pride in being able to cook for myself and had my own preferences. I had arranged the cooking utensils and seasonings for convenience and knew exactly where everything was.

Now, I couldn’t even find the soy sauce. I rarely set foot in the kitchen anymore.

Rena was so vigilant about not letting me lift a finger that I couldn’t even clear my own dishes after eating.

I couldn’t remember the last time I opened the fridge. I had no idea what was inside, but I knew there was no waste.

Rena would study the flyers and send me a shopping list, so I’d buy whatever she asked for.

I couldn’t let Rena go outside. If a kid like her was seen frequently coming and going from this house, even the neighbors who wanted nothing to do with us would get suspicious. It could even attract the police.

I couldn’t take that risk, so Rena hadn’t left the house since the day she arrived. She was fine with it, given her reclusive nature, but she did acknowledge that not being able to go shopping herself was inconvenient.

Back then, she probably couldn’t have handled it without self-checkout. The fact that she now felt inconvenienced by not being able to shop showed how much confidence she’d gained.

On my way home from work, I’d stop by the local supermarket with Rena’s shopping list.

But I didn’t head straight to the food section. A few days ago, I’d noticed a hole in my work socks, so I decided to pick up something small and easy to carry first.

I quickly found what I needed in the clothing section and was heading to the checkout when something caught my eye.

“Hmm…”

I stopped in my tracks.

It was something I’d never worn before—cooking gear.

I didn’t need it since I wasn’t particular about cooking, but Rena had taken over the kitchen. She’d mastered all the cooking utensils I’d bought on a whim after watching cooking videos and then left to gather dust.

Maybe I should get her some proper gear.

I imagined her wearing it as I frowned, trying to decide which one to choose.

◆

Once a useless shut-in who couldn’t even do basic chores, that was now a thing of the past. In less than half a year as a home security guard,

“I can’t go back to life without being a home security guard.”

I’d grown enough to elicit such words from my employer.

And all it took was a little effort.

I often thought to myself,

I really am a prodigy. My own talent is terrifying.

I was grateful to Senpai for giving me such a wonderful place to belong. I wanted to do anything to make his life easier.

That was the initial motivation that made me want to try harder.

But now, my desire had shifted. I wanted to make Senpai dependent on me. I wanted to reduce him to a useless man who couldn’t live without me. I wanted to control his life.

I realized I was starting to harbor twisted desires.

That way, I could stay here forever.

My days were just that comfortable, fun, and happy.

It wasn’t so much about the joy of serving him as it was about wanting to eliminate any chance of losing this life. I was trapping Senpai out of selfishness.

While I diligently carried out my duties as a home security guard, I didn’t spend my days doing nothing but chores when Senpai wasn’t home. I took breaks and enjoyed my alone time.

To improve my skills and for entertainment, I’d recently been watching a lot of cooking videos, and I’d become particularly obsessed with videos from a Chinese restaurant.

It was hard to replicate since they used authentic ingredients, but it was still fun to watch. Cooking had become a full-fledged hobby for me.

It was because there was someone who enjoyed eating what I made. That made me so happy, and it motivated me to keep improving.

Inspired by the videos, tonight I made garlic chicken with 61 cloves of garlic. It was my way of giving Senpai a taste of his own medicine after all the times he’d thanked me with his inappropriate comments.

The look on Senpai’s face when he saw it was priceless.

Of course, my portion had no garlic at all.

“Oh, Senpai, I figured out the whole story behind that incident the other day.”

After finishing the dishes, I remembered the topic I wanted to discuss with Senpai. I closed the sliding door to the next room and typed on my keyboard, trying to escape Senpai’s garlic breath.

“Oh, right. What was the cause of that?”

“Horrible favoritism by shitty parents.”

It happened last week.

Shortly after Senpai left for work, police sirens echoed through the neighborhood. Soon after, the commotion outside became so loud that even I could hear it from inside.

It wasn’t until the midday variety show that I learned a middle schooler had stabbed their entire family to death while they slept.

These kinds of incidents always grab people’s attention and dominate the news.

Knowing it would make for sensational content, reporters had been digging into the family’s background. I’d heard the doorbell ring multiple times over the past few days.

Since the air conditioner’s outdoor unit was running, they probably assumed someone was home. Just the day before yesterday, someone had even brazenly stepped into the yard and knocked on the window, shouting, “Excuse me!”

Thirty minutes later, an ambulance siren blared through the neighborhood. I had a feeling who it was for.

Today, the variety show revealed what the family had been like.

A younger sibling who had grown up under blatant favoritism had snapped and killed their entire family. The details were messy, but that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.

“No one’s noticed, but I figured out the main reason this happened.”

“The main reason?”

“Turns out that family moved here six months ago.”

“Ah, I see.”

Senpai seemed to understand.

Our haunted house had a way of spreading its influence to those around it. The closer you were to this house, the more likely you were to act out.

The haunted house must’ve pushed the younger sibling, who had lived a life of frustration under favoritism, over the edge.

“Another chapter in the illustrious history of this house.”

“What do you think human life is?”

“Entertainment.”

“Hmm, that’s messed up.”

“Caw! Other people’s misery makes the food taste better! Especially when it’s the parents’ own fault!”

There was no room for sympathy.

They brought the child into the world, only to shower them with pressure and neglect instead of love. Treated like a punching bag for their frustrations, the child’s heart bloomed not with love for their family, but with hatred.

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Well, I lost the dad lottery. I get how he felt.”

“What about the mom lottery?”

“A five-star pull. I was supposed to have a happy future just by existing. But I lost my way when I lost her.”

My father had dedicated his life to his business and connections with the upper class. I couldn’t remember a single family dinner where we all sat together. The only times we ate together were when he took us out to show off to others. He’d use the achievements of his children, molded by my mother, to boost his own image.

Even so, my life had been happy.

I had my beloved mother. She always protected me and let me be spoiled. My father had left all the parenting and education to her.

Since I produced results, my father could laugh and introduce me to others as “a bit shy, but that’s the only issue.”

In truth, I had been shy as a child. I wasn’t hopelessly socially awkward, and I attended school regularly.

I also adored my Nee-san.

I admired her confidence and ability to stand her ground. I was always happy when she held my hand.

That happy life crumbled when my mother passed away.

The cause of her death wasn’t worth delving into. It was just a routine shopping trip that ended in an accident.

The process from being informed of her death to her funeral was nothing out of the ordinary. It was the same as any other victim’s family.

Without waiting for the mourning period to end, my father immediately returned to work. It was as if he’d just dealt with a sudden problem. To him, my mother was just a cog in the family system. Losing her wasn’t a significant blow.

After the funeral, Nee-san quickly returned to school. She wanted to show that while she was sad, she wouldn’t overuse the rights given to her.

Meanwhile, I remained withdrawn, unable to accept reality.

Two weeks, three weeks, a month.

I didn’t go to school for a long time, but my father never urged me to return.

I was a prodigy. I wanted to be like my beloved Nee-san and do the same things she did. That desire had driven me to match her academic achievements, even though she was three years ahead. So, my absence from school wasn’t seen as a problem.

Nee-san continued to encourage and support me.

But after three, four months, she started gently advising me.

She said she understood how sad and painful it was for me. After all, we were sisters. She understood my feelings better than anyone. But I couldn’t stay withdrawn forever. For the sake of our mother, who was watching from heaven, I had to overcome this grief.

It was the right thing to say.

It was the correct, model answer society expected.

I was pulled back into society’s little box by Nee-san’s hand.

I didn’t have close friends, but even as a shy person, I was part of a group. I could hold conversations, and as a prodigy, I was often asked for help.

When I returned, my classmates welcomed me back with joy and offered words of comfort. They accepted me without hesitation, even though I’d been absent for months.

I was genuinely happy. I felt grateful that Nee-san had guided me back.

So, I thanked them.

“Th-th-th-thank you.”

It was the first time I’d heard my own stuttering voice.

I hadn’t even been able to hold proper conversations with Nee-san. My voice had rusted from disuse.

My classmates didn’t laugh. They accepted it as a sign of my grief over my mother’s death.

But then,

“Th-th-th-thank you. Yeah, right!”

It was the class clown who laughed.

“Th-th-th-th…”

He repeated only the stuttered part.

I’d always hated that boy. He was always picking on me, trying to get a laugh at my expense.

He was the center of the class. When he laughed, the other boys followed, and soon the whole classroom was filled with laughter.

This time was no different.

As usual, my friends got angry on my behalf. The other girls also took my side, shouting, “Hey, boys!” and a gender-based conflict erupted.

I usually hid in the shadows, waiting for the storm of laughter to pass, but this time was different.

The laughter echoing in the classroom sounded like mockery to me.

I had returned to this little societal box, guided by Nee-san, to overcome my mother’s death with the model answer society expected.

So why did I have to endure this treatment?

I had come back to this place seeking the model answer, only to respond with tears.

The laughter died down awkwardly. The next moment, the room buzzed with chatter, and the boy who started it was scolded. He tried to drag everyone else down with him, claiming they were all equally guilty.

The commotion didn’t stop until the teacher arrived, and I was eventually sent to the nurse’s office. They told me to return to class once I felt better.

The next day,

and the next,

and the day after that,

I couldn’t bring myself to climb the stairs to the classroom.

My academic skills were three years ahead. My teachers couldn’t force me back to class, using my grades as a shield.

My father, too, didn’t push me to return to society’s box as long as I kept producing results. He said I could do as I pleased if I could achieve on my own.

And so, I never set foot in the classroom again.

I only went to school once a week to take tests in the nurse’s office. I never saw anything but perfect scores. My father even boasted about his “great achievement” in raising me this way.

Nee-san tried to convince him that this wasn’t good for me, but he dismissed her. He acted like he understood, saying he wouldn’t let those “monkeys” ruin my talent.

When she tried to persuade me instead, it was pointless. By then, I had mastered the ultimate skill: keeping my head down and staying silent.

Nee-san, who cared for me more than anyone else.

I had admired her. I loved the hand that always gently guided me.

But eventually, that gentle hand became annoying. I wanted to be left alone.

I started hiding in my room, avoiding my Nee-san I had once adored.

Having abandoned my only conversational partner, my speaking skills and ability to assert myself deteriorated day by day.

This was the soil that nurtured my extreme social awkwardness.

Nee-san wasn’t wrong. The ones who were wrong were me, for choosing the easy path, and my father’s parenting style. A man who knew nothing about raising children had suddenly been handed a big kid. Maybe this was the inevitable outcome.

My father realized his mistake during the final year before high school entrance exams. He must’ve remembered that high school wasn’t compulsory. Even if I got into a top university through alternative means, he finally realized I wouldn’t be able to attend properly.

He tried to change his approach, but it was useless against my ultimate skill. He was also too busy with work to deal with me for long.

So, his occasional attempts to lecture me were just comical.

I mean, really?

He was just playing the role of a “father” who had worked hard at parenting and education.

How shameless. The only ones who could get away with that were my late mother and Nee-san, who had always cared for me and tried to find a way to help me.

If his failure had come from genuinely trying to connect with me, it would’ve been different. But that wasn’t the case.

All he had done was buy the results I produced. He panicked when he realized that if things continued, those results would no longer be for sale.

This was the reality of my family.

The only sane one left in the Fumino household was Nee-san.

“Nee-san was a five-star too, but ever since things went downhill, she’s been pretty useless. Senpai, you’re way more reliable, even as a freebie character.”

“Are you praising me or insulting me?”

“Definitely praising. I mean, Senpai, even at your best, you’re like a two-star. But I’m treating you as a four-star, okay?”

And now, you’re beyond a five-star—you’re an unattainable six-star. Someone I never want to let go of.

“When I first saw you, I could tell the artist put a lot of thought into your design.”

“What kind of thought?”

“Making sure you weren’t too handsome.”

“I see you’re still holding onto that time I showed up in just a shirt. Want to hear my thoughts on that?”

“I told you that’s a forbidden topic! Cut it out!”

Remembering that embarrassing moment made my cheeks burn.

“But a four-star, huh? For someone raised by parents who failed the parent lottery, that’s pretty high praise.”

“Senpai, did you fail the parent lottery too?”

“Both of them were complete busts.”

He said it with a bitter laugh, not a sigh.

Come to think of it, Senpai had mentioned before that he’d been cooking for himself since middle school.

Back then, I was too focused on surviving to ask about his past.

But now was different.

Life had settled into a comfortable rhythm, and we’d found a good balance, enjoying our days together.

I wanted to know more about him.

“Were they toxic parents?”

Now that life was more stable, I couldn’t help but push a little further.

“Not exactly toxic, but they were the kind of parents who made me grateful for being born but didn’t raise me with any great values.”

“So, shitty parents?”

“Shitty parents, indeed. They were the kind of adults who never acknowledged their own incompetence and irresponsibility, always shifting the blame onto others. Thanks to them, I became great at self-preservation.”

“Now I’m curious. What kind of parents raise someone with such impressive blame-shifting and avoidance skills?”

I said I was just a little curious, but in truth, I was fascinated by Senpai’s past.

“Please, enlighten me about your life story, Senpai.”

“It’s not exactly a fun story. Just the tale of a kid raised by terrible adults who grew up to be a no-good adult himself.”

“I showed you my embarrassing side. The least you can do is share your boring life story. I’ll decide if it’s interesting or not.”

“…Well, it’s not like it’s some big secret. But first, get me a refill.”

Senpai let out a wry smile.

“It’s a dull story. I can’t tell it without a drink in hand.”

◆

To put it simply, my parents cared more about appearances than anything else.

When I did something wrong, they instilled fear in me as punishment, engraving the consequences of bad behavior into my young mind.

Recently, there’s been a lot of debate about whether this kind of parenting is appropriate.

Having been yelled at and sometimes physically punished as a child, I’m on the side that supports this method.

Some kids won’t behave unless they’re taught that bad actions have consequences. Even after being taught this lesson, some still choose to do wrong.

So, I agree with using fear to discipline misbehaving children. Some kids just won’t listen unless they’re punished.

But applying this method to mere mistakes is questionable.

I didn’t know.

I didn’t understand.

I couldn’t do it well.

Punishing such failures with fear isn’t parenting—it’s training a pet.

My parents were that kind of terrible parent.

For example, there was the time they took me to a bento shop.

It was like a buffet—you could fill your bento box with whatever side dishes you wanted, as long as the lid closed. It was a flat rate.

So, I piled in my favorites, only to realize my mistake at checkout.

The rice section of the bento box was only for rice. I hadn’t known and filled it with side dishes instead. The clerk gently chided me, “Please be more careful next time.”

Once we left the store, I was screamed at like I’d committed a crime.

They hadn’t told me. It was a mistake born of ignorance, but to them, it was common sense. That’s the kind of parents they were.

They weren’t angry because I couldn’t do something. They were angry because my failure embarrassed them.

A child’s failure is a parent’s failure.

Unable to accept that, they raged at me for humiliating them.

They didn’t acknowledge their own incompetence and negligence—they weren’t even aware of it.

What mattered wasn’t me, Tamachi Hajime, but the family unit I was part of—a family that looked good from the outside. That’s why they could so irresponsibly shift the blame onto me.

They didn’t love me as their child.

They were happy to have a child who didn’t embarrass them.

Even as a child, I could sense this, though I couldn’t put it into words.

A pretty facade with no substance. It was ridiculous how much they cared about appearances.

I felt no gratitude or affection for my ancestors or family. That’s why, even when they dragged me to visit graves, all I felt was annoyance at having to do something so pointless. Bowing to a stone and pretending to be grateful was just stupid.

But if I didn’t do these stupid things, I’d get yelled at. I only went along to avoid trouble.

Even as a child, I began to understand how society worked.

As long as your actions looked good from the outside, it didn’t matter what was inside. If you maintained a pretty facade, you wouldn’t get yelled at. Even if you were unhappy with it, you wouldn’t lose out.

As long as I kept up appearances, I was praised and not scolded. Within the bounds of a normal family, I got whatever I wanted.

In elementary school, I was an excellent student.

I was good at studying and sports. I wasn’t the king of the class, but I maintained my position while getting along with the wild, Gami-like types who led the group.

To my parents, I was their pride and joy.

But that wasn’t because I wanted their love or praise.

I just didn’t want to get yelled at.

That was the only strong emotion I had toward them.

That’s not to say I never made mistakes. I made plenty of small ones and got scolded for them.

But as I made more mistakes, I got better at avoiding responsibility. Sometimes I’d pretend something never happened or shift the blame onto others. When it came to self-preservation, I was confident no other kid could match me. I even pinned things on Gami a few times.

It was around fifth grade.

I witnessed a classmate shoplifting at a bookstore about thirty minutes away by bike.

They were startled to be caught in the act.

Our eyes met for about five seconds.

“Oh, excuse me.”

I called out to a nearby clerk.

To report the misdeed I’d just witnessed.

“Do you have the latest volume of this?”

Not really.

I was just prioritizing what I wanted to do—fulfilling the purpose of my visit.

“Oh, this? If it’s not here, it’s probably sold out.”

“I see… Thanks.”

After a brief exchange, I left the store, shoulders slumped in disappointment.

“Hey, Tamachi.”

As I was about to get on my bike, I turned to see the shoplifter standing there.

They looked at me like I was some kind of mystery, trying to figure me out.

“Huh? Oh, what a coincidence.”

My acting was so blatant that my classmate could only stare in disbelief.

“You free now?”

“Well… I’ve got something later.”

I hesitated, but then—

“I’ll buy you a drink.”

“On second thought, I’m free.”

I was easily bribed.

At a park near the store, I was told to pick whatever I wanted from the vending machine. I chose an energy drink—not because I liked it, but because it was the most expensive option.

“So, Tamachi. What was that back there?”

After taking a sip, my classmate got straight to the point.

They weren’t threatening me—they were genuinely curious about why I’d acted the way I did.

“I didn’t see anything. That’s all there is to it.”

I answered casually, unafraid because I knew they understood.

My classmate was stunned by how nonchalant I was.

Why did I turn a blind eye to their shoplifting? Simply because I didn’t want to deal with the fallout.

If you witness wrongdoing, you should report it to an adult.

That’s the socially acceptable, morally correct thing to do.

It’s the kind of action that gets you praised for your sense of justice.

But what happens after?

This classmate was at the top of the social hierarchy—a wild, influential figure who dragged others along with them.

If I made an enemy of them, what would happen? Anyone who knew this classmate could guess they’d retaliate.

Being ostracized would’ve been bad enough.

But becoming the target of serious bullying? No thanks.

The teachers were all about avoiding trouble, so asking for help would’ve been pointless.

I didn’t believe my parents would stand up for me if I got bullied. If anything, they’d force me to go to school no matter how bad it got. They wouldn’t tolerate having a truant child.

So, I pretended not to see my classmate’s wrongdoing. I chose to protect my own position.

Adults couldn’t be relied on. I couldn’t trust them to protect me.

I didn’t care if the bookstore suffered losses because I didn’t report the shoplifting.

If not doing the right thing was wrong, then wasn’t it the adults’ fault for failing to create an environment where I could act without fear?

So, I wasn’t the one at fault.

“Then you’re not going to ask why I did what I did?”

My classmate seemed to understand my true intention—that I wanted to avoid trouble. That’s why they tilted their head, puzzled that I didn’t ask the question most adults would’ve asked.

Why did you do this?

Why did you choose to do something wrong, even though you knew it was bad? Adults always assume there’s some deep reason behind it and demand an explanation.

What nonsense. Kids like this rarely have such complex motivations.

“Because it was there.”

I gave them the simplest answer possible, as if they’d asked me why 1 + 1 equals 2.

That’s how I summed up my classmate’s motivation for shoplifting.

Why steal? Because the item was there.

“What am I, a mountaineer!?”

My classmate burst out laughing.

That’s how we started calling each other Tama and Gami. It’s a nostalgic story.

After that, I grew up smoothly and entered middle school.

Then, my mother suddenly had to be hospitalized.

At the time, I wasn’t told the reason, and I didn’t care to ask.

I was forced to take over household chores, as if we were supposed to bravely overcome this family crisis. At first, it was annoying and tedious, but I accepted it because it was necessary. It wasn’t just about appearances—there was substance to it.

With my mother gone and my father busy, I spent more time alone at home.

Adults often pitied me, saying things like, It’s so sad your mother is going through this, but you’re doing so well. I hope she gets better soon.

No way. I didn’t want her to get better. I liked things the way they were.

Without my parents’ suffocating presence, I could live freely. It was so comfortable that I realized how much easier life was without them.

Even when my grades dropped, people excused it because I was handling the household. In reality, I was just deep into online games because my parents weren’t around to monitor me. Despite my lack of substance, people praised me for maintaining appearances.

I felt no gratitude or affection for the parents who raised me.

The concept of familial love had never taken root in me.

So, when my mother died during my third year of middle school, I didn’t feel sad. While going through the tedious funeral process, I played the role of the pitiful child who’d lost their mother at such a young age.

The real trouble came just before the 49th-day memorial service.

The incense, which wasn’t supposed to burn out, had gone out while I was home.

I never bothered to pray or light incense unless family or relatives were around. I was too busy with online games to notice.

When my father returned with relatives from my mother’s side, they noticed the extinguished incense and made a snide remark.

After the relatives left, my father flew into a rage. For the first time in years, he swung his fist at me.

Unlike when I was a child, the physical difference between us wasn’t as great. In fact, since my father didn’t exercise and I was in decent shape from sports, I had the advantage. I easily dodged his punch and—

“Don’t mess with me!”

I kicked him hard as he stumbled past me.

“Why the hell should I be blamed for something so stupid!? You’re the one who wanted to do this!”

Years of pent-up resentment.

I kicked him repeatedly, pouring all that hatred into each blow.

Being blamed for something so trivial felt utterly unfair. In a fit of rage, I grabbed the incense burner and smashed it against his back.

Seeing him tremble, all the anger drained out of me. It suddenly felt ridiculous that I’d been afraid of someone like this. I decided it was more worthwhile to go back to my room and play games than to deal with him.

I skipped the 49th-day memorial service and stayed at Gami’s house until everyone left. My father must’ve been grilled by the relatives, but when he returned, he didn’t say a word to me. He just glared at me with resentment. When I made a motion to hit him again, he fell on his backside—a comical sight.

From then on, there was an unbridgeable gap between us.

Even though we lived in the same house, he went out of his way to avoid me. Eventually, he stopped coming home altogether. Still, he cared about appearances, so he deposited living expenses and allowance into my account. He was terrified of what I might do if I exploded again.

I was supposed to attend the best high school in the city. I knew my father bragged about my academic achievements to others.

So, out of spite, I enrolled in the worst high school in the area. It was within walking distance and convenient.

As for high school… well, a lot happened in my third year, but that’s a story for another time.

After graduating, I took the severance money my father gave me and moved to Tokyo.

I haven’t seen those terrible parents since.

“So, what do you think? Not exactly an exciting story, huh?”

◆

Today’s third highball.

After finishing what he called a “boring story,” Senpai asked for a refill.

It’s a simple task—just mix whiskey chilled in the freezer with soda water and squeeze in some lemon. Senpai says skipping the ice makes the carbonation stronger and the drink tastier.

As I prepared the drink, I replayed Senpai’s childhood story in my mind.

It wasn’t a particularly dramatic life.

He wasn’t abused or struggling in poverty. He grew up in an ordinary family where he got whatever he wanted.

But how should I put it?

Compared to kids suffering under toxic parents or poverty, Senpai was fortunate. Yet, his claim that he’d “lost the parent lottery” resonated deeply with me.

I hate my father. But… I couldn’t help comparing him to Senpai’s parents and thinking he was better.

It’s not about money.

Senpai’s parents disgusted me on a visceral level.

No matter how terrible my father is, deep down, he knows he’s at fault. As long as I went to school and got good grades, he was satisfied, even if I was a loner.

And then there’s my beloved mother. I realized once again how blessed I was to have such a wonderful mother.

I’m a prodigy, but even I made plenty of mistakes as a child—the kind of mistakes that would’ve embarrassed my parents, as Senpai put it.

But my mother never got angry about them.

She always took the time to understand me and teach me patiently. Even when I failed at something, she’d gently explain what went wrong and how to do better. She even apologized for not teaching me properly, saying it was her fault for making me feel embarrassed.

I was loved by my mother.

Because there was substance, I worked hard. I wanted to make her proud and see her happy with my achievements.

That’s why it hurt so much when she died. I couldn’t move on.

On the other hand, Senpai, who also lost his mother, seemed unfazed.

Society would surely condemn him. How could you not feel any sorrow after being raised in such a seemingly perfect family?

Setting aside my bias, I realized something.

This society truly doesn’t care about substance.

Senpai’s parents were undeniably the ones who raised him this way, yet people would judge him based on appearances alone, without understanding the truth.

But even if he tried to explain, they’d dismiss him as being difficult. I think Senpai understood that, which is why he’s lived his life maintaining appearances until now.

Because I’ve known parental love, I can see how twisted this is.

A pretty facade with no substance.

My father and Senpai’s parents. Both sides were doing the same thing. But when comparing which was worse, the scales tipped in favor of my father. It was probably because of the difference in self-awareness.

My father was aware of what he was doing when he imposed things on me, so I could at least rationalize it.

But Senpai’s parents imposed things without any self-awareness.

People without self-awareness are the worst.

It’s a phrase Senpai often uses. I finally understood what it meant.

It’s like cult recruitment. They believe what they’re doing is right. They don’t even consider that they might be wrong, so they impose their will without considering the other person’s feelings.

Ah, really…

“…Disgusting.”

I shuddered with relief and horror, glad I wasn’t born into such a household.

It must have shown on my face.

“Did my boring story make you feel sick?”

After handing me a refill, Senpai said this with a wry smile.

I returned to my room and closed the sliding door. I knew exactly how to move my hands.

“No, I was just put off by Senpai’s bad breath.”

“Whose fault is that, huh?”

I went for the joke.

I chuckled a little, feeling slightly better.

“After escaping from your crappy parents, did life become a bed of roses?”

Senpai called themselves a bottom-tier worker, but they rarely worked overtime, and their workplace relationships seemed good. They were aware that their low salary was more due to a lack of effort than a lack of skill. Living in this horror house, they seemed to be living a comfortable life.

I’d heard online that programmers often faced brutal overtime, but Senpai showed no signs of that. I guessed they’d landed a decent position.

“Nah, not at all. Until I was headhunted by my current company, it was hell.”

But Senpai’s answer was no. It seemed they had faced hardships beyond just having terrible parents.

“Getting into a proper company means studying hard, getting into a good school, being enlightened by self-important people who act like gods, and playing the role of the diligent student. Only those who’ve gone through this societal rite of passage get the ticket to challenge it.”

I heard the sound of Senpai gulping down their drink.

“Even in the bargain bin of society, I hadn’t done any of that. No qualifications, no skills, nothing particularly outstanding. All I had was the consequences of not trying. Do you know what kind of company would hire someone like that?”

“Age, education, and experience don’t matter. Kind seniors will motivate and teach you. Everyone gets along, and your efforts are recognized. We’ll help you achieve your dreams of independence. As long as you’re passionate, you’re welcome in our warm, family-like workplace.”

“As expected of a prodigy. You memorized the whole spiel.”

Senpai laughed heartily.

“Well, you’re right. I chose this industry because the only thing I was passionate about in school was keyboards. I admired the image of suited professionals typing away in office buildings.”

“Were you already good at that back then?”

“Yeah, I could touch-type in romaji, use shortcut keys for copy-paste, understood machine specs, and had a deep knowledge of the internet. I dreamed of making it big in this industry with those skills.”

“No offense, but that’s the typical ‘I’m good with computers’ guy. Hiring someone like that wouldn’t be useful at work.”

“Exactly. So, I boarded a ship full of fools who proudly called themselves ‘good with computers,’ all chasing treasure.”

“I already have a bad feeling about this.”

“The first three months of training were the peak of my motivation. As we progressed, the incompetents stood out, and seeing them made me think I was competent. I thought, ‘If I can get paid for this, life’s a breeze,’ and started underestimating society.”

Senpai snorted, mocking their past self.

“In that state of overconfidence, I was sent to client sites. The gap between ideal and reality was shocking. I didn’t even know what I didn’t know. The clients had paid for skilled workers, but they got useless slugs instead. The backlash was intense.

The so-called training only taught me the ABCs. It was like being sent to an English-speaking country and told to figure it out. I thought I was on a pirate ship, but it turned out to be a slave ship.”

“That’s literally a modern slave ship.”

“Yeah, ‘those who don’t work don’t eat.’ We weren’t treated like humans. It was truly hellish.”

“Why didn’t you quit?”

“I desperately sought guidance, studied at home, and worked hard. Eventually, I managed to get by. It proved I wasn’t incompetent—I could do it if I tried.”

“Saying ‘I can do it if I try’ is such a Senpai thing to say.”

Even in moments like this, Senpai’s self-assuredness was consistent.

“Rena, do you know what ‘someone who can do it if they try’ really means?”

But their tone suggested it was a misconception, not something to boast about. It was self-deprecating.

“What does it mean?”

“It doesn’t mean ‘a talented hawk.’ It means a lazy person who doesn’t put in the effort to plan for the future in their current environment. A fool who only moves when their back’s against the wall and tries to deal with the problem. That’s what ‘someone who can do it if they try’ really is. And those who fail to deal with it are called incompetent in this society.”

Someone who can do it if they try.

It wasn’t self-praise at all.

“After being sent around to various clients for about two years, I ended up at my current company. I had no expectations, but my leader at the time said, ‘This slave is surprisingly useful.’ They negotiated with my current boss to take me under their wing. That’s how I got off the slave ship and rose to the bottom.”

Senpai wasn’t a bad adult—they were a good-for-nothing adult. That’s why they could analyze themselves so well.

“Poaching like this is taboo in the industry. I’m grateful to the leader who noticed me and the boss who took a risk for me. At first, I was determined to work hard under them. But once the environment became comfortable, I didn’t want to push further. I settled for this position, content with being at the bottom. No matter where I go, I’m still me. Someone who can do it if they try.”

That’s why Senpai could mock themselves for being “someone who can do it if they try.”

To their parents, Senpai was once a son to be proud of. But that was only because they didn’t want to be scolded. They only worked hard because their parents were watching. But once that pressure was gone, this is what happened. Without ambition, this is where they ended up.

“Senpai, you’re impressive.”

I genuinely admired Senpai.

“What were you even listening to? How did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’m comparing you to myself.”

Senpai had come to terms with who they were and was running on society’s rails. Even if it was a life called “bottom-tier,” they had thought it through and accepted it.

“Can I be blunt?”

“It’s a bit late for that. Go ahead.”

“Senpai, you weren’t blessed with family, and you don’t have any outstanding talents. And you’re not even that handsome.”

“I said go ahead, but I’ll ignore the second half.”

“Comparing myself to Senpai made me realize how privileged I am.”

“You’re privileged?”

“I pulled a 5-star sister and mother in the family gacha, was blessed with prodigious talent, and have the looks of a big-breasted JK beauty.”

“You really like that title, huh?”

“Hehe.”

I chuckled softly, glad that he’d pressed further.

“I always thought I’d lost the dad lottery until I compared him to you, Senpai.”

“Oh? Did your opinion change?”

“As a family man, he’s terrible, but as a company president, he’s competent. As long as I produce results, he’s like an ATM that spits out money. Nee-san knows how to handle him, so she’s doing fine.”

Nee-san has come to terms with our father’s ways. Raised with love by our mother, she grew up straight and true, without becoming twisted. Despite having such a father, she knows what real familial love is.

That’s why people love her. Even if she attracts envy, she’s loved simply for doing what’s right. She’s not naive—she understands that people like our father exist and accepts it.

She’s the kind of person who gets rewarded just for living honestly. She’s truly blessed.

“I was given the same things as Nee-san, but look at me now.”

What exactly is the difference?

“If someone who could’ve succeeded but fell into incompetence is useless, then I’m even worse than that.”

It’s negligence.

The price of turning away from the future, avoiding what I should’ve done, and staying stagnant. I was forced into a situation where I had to act, yet I still sought the easy way out, avoiding the problem instead of confronting it.

I’m not even incompetent—I’m a lazy, defeated dog. No, I didn’t even fight, so I’m just a worthless mutt.

The reality I’d been avoiding for so long. After laying it all out in front of Senpai, I was struck by the truth.

“No, seriously. Compared to Senpai, I’ve been so blessed, yet I believed I was unlucky. It’s laughable.”

Despite being so fortunate, I ran away from what I didn’t like and burdened Senpai with this risk. I couldn’t help but laugh at how selfish I’d been.

I’d started to like myself recently, but now I’m beginning to hate myself again.

“Yeah. Looks, talent, family—you’ve got everything I didn’t. The problem was so obvious, yet… your life being on hard mode is entirely due to your own negligence.”

Senpai was laughing.

He was laughing at how someone so blessed had been lamenting their circumstances. At how I’d ignored my own lack of effort and negligence, covering my ears and eyes, crying about how unfortunate I was.

Even though I thought that,

“You really are an unlucky guy.”

Senpai declared me unlucky.

“The mistake is thinking that kids can solve all their problems through self-effort alone. It’s the role of adults to guide children, to determine whether they can overcome their problems. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work in this country’s social norms.”

He took a sip, the sound of swallowing audible.

“Your problem is definitely the result of a weak, slug-like mentality. It’s obvious when you see someone who’s aware of their issues but has no intention of fixing them. In that case, the adults around them should’ve been looking for solutions.”

Senpai let out an exasperated sigh.

“Instead of yelling at you to go to school like an idiot, they should’ve addressed the root of the problem. Was there even one great adult who did that for you?”

“No, there wasn’t.”

“Liar. There was one, wasn’t there?”

“Where?”

“Right here.”

His voice was solemn yet playful.

That’s right. There was an adult who faced my problems head-on and stood by my side.

For five years, I hated the sound of my own voice. It was a complex. But now, I can communicate my thoughts naturally.

“Even someone like me, with a brain like this, could’ve solved your problem easily if I’d put in a little effort. The adults around you neglected their role, letting your social awkwardness fester. In the end, your problem is just that.”

Senpai dismissed the issue I’d been carrying all this time.

It wasn’t my fault for avoiding my problems and running away. It was the fault of the adults who’d ignored such a simple issue until now.

It wasn’t just empty comfort.

Senpai genuinely believed this was a minor problem that could’ve been easily solved.

I was so happy it made my chest ache.

“So, you’re saying Nee-san was incompetent?”

…But that only brought new pain.

Nee-san, the only one who’d consistently faced my problems. From the day I became a shut-in, she’d always repeated the same thing. No matter how kind she was, her solution was always the same.

Go to school. That’ll fix your social awkwardness.

I know she cares about me more than anyone else in the world.

But what I wanted wasn’t kindness that looked to the future.

I wanted her to hold my hand like she used to and let me be spoiled.

I knew I was at fault, but deep down, I even started to resent her.

Why doesn’t Nee-san understand me?

Senpai said the problem could’ve been solved with a little effort. The fact that someone who cared about me as much as Nee-san couldn’t even do something so simple made my chest tighten with pain.

“Hey… were you even listening to what I said?”

Senpai sighed, exasperated by my stubbornness.

“Whether you call her a five-star or whatever, your sister’s just a kid.”

“Ah…”

I’d forgotten something so obvious. My throat trembled at my own foolishness.

“She’s just a kid who’s been taught to worship teachers as gods and learn the rules of the world. She’s just a kid who’s been doing her best in a place where self-important ‘gods’ preach about what society is. Expecting her to guide you is asking too much.”

“Ahh…”

My throat trembled again.

Not because it was painful.

Not because it was hard.

“In the end, the reason you turned out like this is because the adults around you knew what was important for living in society but decided that as long as you could study, that was enough. It’s their responsibility.”

From the beginning, Nee-san couldn’t have fixed me.

Being told this truth felt like being saved.

Nee-san had tried her best to guide me in her own way. The hand she extended to me never had the means to truly lead me.

Nee-san, who cares about me more than anyone else in the world. It’s not that she didn’t stand by my side. She tried her hardest, as a child, to guide me.

It felt like a thorn that had been deeply embedded in my chest had been pulled out.

“Ugh… uhh…”

Tears flowed from the hole left by the thorn, wetting my hands as they ran down my cheeks.

Ah, now that the thorn is gone, I understand.

The reason I’ve been so miserable isn’t because Nee-san didn’t stand by my side.

It’s because it hurt so much to grow to dislike the sister I once loved so much.

My sobs must’ve reached him.

To comfort me, Senpai let out a dry laugh.

“There are worthless mutts in this world who latch onto others’ misfortune, saying things like, You’re so blessed, I’m more unfortunate than you. They just want to one-up others with their nonsense.”

I know. While everyone else was learning about society in school, I learned about it through the internet.

The anonymous online world is a hellscape of misery one-upmanship.

“But don’t pay attention to that drivel. If someone has the heart to care about those worse off than themselves, they wouldn’t latch onto others’ misfortune. So, there’s no need to care about those people.”

He’s right. That kind of hell is full of contradictions. No matter how much they dress it up, what they really want to say can be summed up in one selfish sentence:

Care about me.

“To those who selfishly latch onto others and spout nonsense about being more unfortunate, what you give them isn’t sympathy or comfort. A simple Shut up and die! is more than enough.”

Senpai’s words were bold and unyielding.

I agree with that, but this is just too awkward. If I were to vent about it on social media, it would definitely blow up into a huge controversy.

“When you compare your life to others, only do so to comfort yourself by thinking, ‘At least I’m better off than this guy.’ If you think you’re unhappy, then you are.”

That’s the kind of mindset Senpai was encouraging me to have.

“Right? Deciding to roll into the life of a worthless adult like me—that’s definitely an unhappy life.”

No matter the form, the pain and suffering I felt back then were undeniably real.

No matter how bad I am, I’m the kind of creature who can set all that aside. So, if I want to cry out that my circumstances are unfortunate, why should I hesitate?

My respect for the person who reminded me of that grew even more.

“So, Rena. It’s okay for me to proudly declare that I’m unhappy.”

And yet, at the very end, there’s this sexual harassment.

It’s not about humiliating me sexually or wanting to toy with me. It’s just Senpai’s habit of needing to end things with a punchline.

He’s truly a hopeless adult.

“Really, Senpai, you’re handsome on the inside.”

“What about my face?”

“The fact that you’re not conventionally handsome is oddly charming.”

“Today, I’m finally going to count the stains on the ceiling.”

“Eek, I’m gonna get assaulted~!”

So, like the hopeless kids we are, I decided to follow his example.

“Oh, right.”

Senpai spoke up as if he remembered something.

The sound of a chair creaking.

Since the sliding door was closed, I couldn’t tell what he was doing.

Just as I tilted my head in confusion, the door slid open without a sound.

“Here, a little employee benefit.”

He handed me a plastic bag. It was colored, so I couldn’t see what was inside. From the weight and feel, I guessed it was probably some kind of clothing.

Out of politeness, I gave him a look asking, “Can I open it?” Senpai shook his head, so I went ahead and opened it.

“Ah…”

It was folded and packaged, so I couldn’t see the whole thing, but I immediately realized what it was.

An apron.

“Thanks for greeting me in your underwear the other day. If you wear this, at least you won’t have to do the Fujikoro thing again.”

He was referring to the time my underwear was visible. I had forgotten and ended up greeting him in an indecent state because I was dressed too casually.

If I always had an apron on, it would act as a defense line even if I forgot.

“Thank you so much.”

I was genuinely happy.

Is this what it feels like to be happy receiving a gift? It had been so long since I’d felt this way.

I hugged it tightly to my chest, as if holding something precious.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m really, really happy.”

The joy spilled out naturally, so pure that I forgot what it meant to feel embarrassed.

And then my left hand reached for the keyboard.

“The two shared a happy kiss and lived happily ever after. The end. I was so moved, it could’ve ended like that.”

“Don’t hold back. I don’t mind.”

“But your breath’s kinda bad, so it wouldn’t have been a happy ending. What a shame.”

“You’re the one who started it.”

“Hehe.”

I deflected with a joke to hide my embarrassment.

Senpai turned around and closed the sliding door. Was it because he was self-conscious about his breath, or was he being considerate of me? I wonder which it was.

I immediately unwrapped the apron and inspected it.

From the sturdy fabric, it was clear this wasn’t some cheap, mass-produced item. The fact that it was a solid color rather than patterned suggested practicality over style.

It was yellow. Not a glaringly bright shade, but a soft, green-tinged hue that was easy on the eyes.

Senpai must have thought about me when choosing this color. Maybe he even wondered if it would suit me.

That thought made me so happy, and it reminded me of something, causing me to gasp.

Long ago, my mom bought hair clips for me and Nee-san. I was always happy with anything from her, but this time, I was a little dissatisfied.

I always wanted to copy Nee-san. So even though the hair clips were the same shape, the colors were different.

Nee-san’s was a vibrant red, while mine was the same color as this apron.

Maybe my dissatisfaction showed on my face. My mom gently patted my head and explained why she chose that color.

“This is your color.”

“My… color?”

“Yes. Kaede’s color.”

My mom chose that color because it matched my name, Kaede. Strictly speaking, it was close to that color, but what mattered was that she had thought of me. My disappointment at not matching Nee-san vanished, and I was incredibly happy.

And yet, I hadn’t even told Senpai my real name.

The coincidence was so striking that the word “fate” flashed through my mind.

That’s why I wanted to put on the apron right away and show Senpai. I wanted him to see me in it.

Wearing something I was given right away and showing it off—it felt a little embarrassing, like I was being too excited.

But I wanted to wear it immediately. I wanted him to see it.

As I hesitated, I remembered something I had brought along, just in case.

◆

I bought the apron on a whim, but I never expected it would make her so happy.

The way she hugged it tightly and smiled was like a scene from a painting.

I’ve tried to keep my interactions with Rena within the bounds of jokes, but this time, my feelings were a little shaken.

I already knew it, but Rena is just too cute.

Why is such a cute girl working as a home security guard at my place?

It’s all because there were no decent adults around her. It’s the fault of those who should’ve been guiding her, so all I can do is laugh.

I wish I had met her ten years earlier. If I had, I wouldn’t have hesitated to pursue a relationship.

The reason I don’t now is because I have a wonderful sense of morality and rules. I want to keep her pure, imagining the day she’ll leave this nest. I don’t want to taint the wonderful life she’ll lead in the future.

Yeah, right.

The truth is, I’m just comfortable soaking in this lukewarm water. I don’t want to push things and risk ruining our relationship. I’m just scared of losing what we’ve built.

If someone asked me if I like Rena, I’d say of course I do. I’ve never liked anyone this much before.

I may be a hopeless adult, but I swear I won’t become a truly bad one. At least I’m aware of the nature of these feelings.

This isn’t the kind of love or romance society glorifies. She’s a cute girl who’ll do anything for me. No need to put in effort to keep her happy, and the cost is ridiculously low compared to what I get in return. Plus, she’s fun to be around.

She’s the personification of an adult’s twisted desires. That’s all there is to it. I only feel this way because she’s such a convenient existence.

Because, let’s be honest. If I truly cared about her, I’d be thinking about how to fix her bleak future. The fact that I’m not doing that proves that these feelings aren’t real love or romance.

The love in my heart is, at best, a selfish and self-centered kind of self-love.

“…Senpai.”

While I was analyzing myself, Rena peeked at me through the slightly open sliding door.

Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked embarrassed.

After taking a deep breath, Rena slid the door open, as if she had made up her mind.

It was time to reveal her apron outfit.

The apron I chose for practicality, while not reaching five digits in price, was still quite expensive. Even though it was an employee benefit, I couldn’t bring myself to pick something cheap. As an adult, I had to maintain some dignity. Since Rena’s indoor clothes were mostly dark colors, I went with a brighter shade. Red or pink would’ve been too obvious, so I trusted my intuition that this color would suit her. Turns out, my sense wasn’t too bad.

“Hm…?”

Something felt off.

She hadn’t just thrown the apron over her hoodie. It seemed like she had changed her clothes entirely.

Why would she need to change clothes just for an apron?

“Does it look… weird?”

Rena spread her arms slightly, worried about how she looked.

She even turned around to show me her back.

In Japan, aprons are called maekake (front cover). So why was she showing me her back?

“What’s that?”

My response was completely inappropriate for her question about how she looked.

It wasn’t weird at all. From the back, it was just a blazer and skirt—a perfectly normal outfit.

That’s why it caught me off guard.

“It’s from… high school.”

Rena’s voice was barely above a whisper.

She wasn’t stuttering or hesitating out of nervousness. It was pure embarrassment.

I didn’t need to ask what she meant by “from high school.”

Rena was wearing a school uniform. She looked like she was emphasizing the “JK” part of “busty JK beauty.”

“What’s with that?”

I repeated myself, unable to grasp Rena’s intentions.

Why did she have a high school uniform in this house? I knew she brought it herself, but I couldn’t figure out why.

“I thought… I might use it…”

“Use it for what?”

School uniforms are for going to school. They can be used for formal occasions like weddings or funerals, but that didn’t seem likely. If she wanted to wear it as a fashion statement for going out, I’d understand, but that didn’t seem like Rena. It wasn’t comfortable enough to be loungewear either.

“Um… well…”

Rena hesitated, too embarrassed to explain why she brought the uniform.

It wasn’t just a word or two. She could hold a proper conversation with me now. While she still relied on gestures to express her “hopelessness,” she could’ve easily explained this with words.

Rena pulled out her phone from the apron and started typing.

A notification sound went off.

As I took a sip from my tumbler, I checked the lock screen.

“On the battlefield.”

“Guh!”

The unexpected message made me spit out my drink.

The highball went down the wrong pipe, and I coughed repeatedly.

Rena hid her face behind her phone, clearly embarrassed.

“Gah! This thoughtfulness and consideration! You’re such a prodigy, it’s honestly painful!”

Her face didn’t match her words. Her attempt to hide her embarrassment was obvious.

Even though she came here with determination, I never expected her to bring such a prop. I was impressed.

Ah, so that’s it.

Even if it was transactional, Rena must have wanted to make me happy from the very beginning.

“You really go all out with your service spirit in the most unnecessary ways.”

I downed the rest of my tumbler in one go.

I handed the empty tumbler to Rena.

“Well then, let me enjoy the benefits of having a busty JK beauty to the fullest.”

A high school girl in an apron.

I committed the outrageous act of having her make me a drink, something that would surely enrage certain organizations.

◆

“Well, I’m off.”

“Have a good day.”

As usual, I saw Senpai off from the living room as he left for work. I’d prefer to see him off properly at the entrance, but I can’t risk him seeing me from outside when he leaves.

My daily duties start with preparing Senpai’s breakfast, lunchbox, and clothes. Since Senpai’s departure time is fixed, I plan my schedule around it. It’s not particularly busy, but mornings require careful time management.

Seeing Senpai off marks the end of my morning tasks. After that, I clean, do laundry, and prepare dinner before he returns. Unlike the morning, I’m not pressed for time and can take it easy.

The apron Senpai gave me—I’ve grown so used to wearing it. I took it off to take a break, hanging it on the back of a chair before collapsing onto the bed.

There’s only one bed in this house, the owner’s. It’s filled with Senpai’s scent, but I don’t find it unpleasant. In fact, I crave it.

I… love Senpai.

It’s not the same kind of love I feel for my mom or sister.

It’s the kind of affection you direct toward someone of the opposite sex.

I want to stay by his side for even a second longer. The time we’re apart is filled with longing.

I’m a prodigy. I know full well that these feelings don’t align with society’s definition of true love or romance.

I’ve given up on moving forward into the future on my own.

I only seek happiness for tomorrow, closing my eyes and turning away from the future.

Senpai carries me on his back, offering me nothing but ease and joy. He gives me a life where I can entrust myself to him and be happy every day.

It’s not kindness that considers my future, but a fleeting sweetness that only lasts for the moment. I’ve come to interpret this as, “This person is the only one who understands me,” and it’s become my emotional anchor. I’ve grown so attached because he’s convenient for me.

Society would probably call this feeling not love or romance, but dependency. They’d lecture me with their logic and call it “logical harassment.”

I don’t need society’s high-and-mighty lectures now. I know the truth better than anyone.

I know it…

“Senpai…”

But the time without Senpai is so painfully lonely.

I miss him so much it feels like my chest is being squeezed, and I long for him to come back soon.

I bury my face in the bedding, hugging it tightly as if seeking warmth.

This is how I spend my days, turning a blind eye and deaf ear to society’s truths.

This is the only worry and pain born from my otherwise happy life.

The fact that this isn’t true love or romance, but a dependency born from convenience—I turn away from society’s truth.

Even now, I could just brush off such trivial things and set them aside like I always do. But my instincts might be screaming that I don’t want to call these feelings mere dependency.

Suddenly, a question popped into my head.

What exactly is “society,” anyway?

Not society as a school subject, but society as a concept, as a definition.

Curious, I took out my phone and searched for “society.”

I wasn’t looking for any particular answer. It was more of a fleeting intellectual curiosity.

All the world’s knowledge is available online. I decided to start by skimming through Wikipedia.

The page was filled with stiff, jargon-heavy text. I could understand it, but it was as dry and uninteresting as I expected.

“A group of people who can communicate, interact, and influence each other, organized and structured in a certain way.”

In simpler terms, it was exactly what I imagined. I didn’t gain any new insights.

Next, I searched for “socialization,” but again, there wasn’t much of note.

“The process of acquiring the values and norms of a society through learning.”

The only thing I got out of it was that these values and norms were what defined my feelings as not being true love or romance.

I hadn’t expected much to begin with.

Finally, I decided to look up “sociality” and call it a day.

“Social… desires.”

The words slipped out of my mouth as I read them.

It felt like a punch to the head. This was what I had been craving all along, and now I knew the answer.

“The desire to be liked by others… the desire to be recognized.”

I read the words aloud, as if reciting them to myself.

I remembered the day I first met Senpai.

Being called a “beauty” and placed in that category made me feel a surge of joy that shook me to my core.

Even if Nee-san, my father, or the popular kids had said it, I wouldn’t have felt this same desire for recognition.

I hadn’t understood what it was at the time, but now I had finally found the answer.

I recalled the definition of society again.

“A group of people who can communicate, interact, and influence each other, organized and structured in a certain way.”

I couldn’t communicate with Nee-san or my father.

There was no way we could interact or influence each other.

The order and organization they belonged to and respected were unbearable to me.

I finally understood why being around people like Nee-san and father was so painful. We belonged to different societies.

The society I belonged to was the one I had built with Senpai, a society of just the two of us. Being called a beauty made me happy because it meant I was recognized and liked by someone in the same society.

As I read further about the development of sociality, another answer came to me.

“The desire for a true confidant, a soulmate, grows stronger. Devotional admiration for a specific person can sometimes turn into idolization and even lead to the emergence of romantic feelings.”

This is adolescence. For girls, it typically occurs between the ages of 11 and 13.

The person on the other side of the screen was my true confidant, my soulmate. I blindly admired and even worshipped them, I realized.

The real world—I had no way to survive in it.

After all, the tracks of the real world are bathed in sunlight.

People who live in the real world grow under that light, but I couldn’t bear its brightness. Its scorching heat would only wither the seedling that is Fumino Kaede.

Telling me to run on those tracks is the same as telling me to die.

Because Fumino Kaede can’t survive in an oasis (desert) bathed in sunlight. I’m a plant that can’t photosynthesize.

I shook off the hands trying to pull me onto the tracks and sought salvation in the only society I belonged to. I believed that the place beyond the tracks, untouched by sunlight, was the desert (oasis) for Fumino Kaede.

My society is the smallest unit possible, just Senpai and me. Until today, I’ve lived my life and carried out social activities here. It’s only in this place that I’ve finally learned how to survive in society (photosynthesis).

Now that I can photosynthesize, maybe I could grow even in a place bathed in sunlight.

But… I can’t go back anymore.

Running away from home and ending up with an adult man—my life has been irreparably tainted.

But that’s trivial.

Now, I could face Nee-san. I could talk to her properly. Even someone like me—I’d ask her to accept me, to let me start over by her side. I’m sure she’d forgive me.

I’d get my high school equivalency or enroll in a correspondence school, breeze through university, and let Nee-san carry me through my social relationships. By then, I’d have grown into a lovable character like her. I’d laugh at how easy life had become, trembling at my own prodigiousness.

Ah, really… how trivial. How boring. Aside from being able to start over with my beloved Nee-san, I can’t find any value in such a life, so far removed from happiness.

Compared to the dependency I’ve found after leaving the tracks, that life is pitifully small and meaningless.

Outsiders would point fingers and say that fulfilling this dependency is a hollow act. They’d mock me for living a pitiful life, unable to attain true love or romance.

But it’s a matter of definition.

In the society bathed in sunlight, these feelings might not be true love or romance. But what value does the definition of a society I don’t belong to hold?

The society I belong to is one I’ve built with Senpai, just the two of us. So, we can define it however we want.

I’ll continue to turn a blind eye to the real world. I’ll reassure myself that this dependency isn’t a hollow feeling and fulfill it without guilt.

Because it’s easier, more fun, and makes me happier.

But my Nee-san is a righteous person. She’d never accept this happiness.

If that happened, I’d surely start to dislike her again. I know all too well how painful and bitter that would be.

I never want to feel that way again.

Because I want to keep loving you, Nee-san…

“I’m sorry, Nee-san…”

I never want to see you again.

And so, this dependency that has taken root in me—

“I don’t want to leave Senpai…”

I’ve chosen the society (life) where I can fulfill these feelings, defined as true love and romance.