A Hard-Boiled (Self-Proclaimed) Guy Like Me Doesn’t Suit a Romcom-Style Youth - Chapter 11 & 12 & 13 & 14 & 15

Chapter 11: Decoration

Mirai and Masaki-san—and Nagisa-san too—froze with blank, stunned faces. Apparently, he hadn’t meant it as a prank. In that silence, the first to speak was Nagisa-san.

“Hey, dear. What did you just say?”

“Hm? ‘Cheers,’ but?”

“Before that.”

“‘To celebrate his return and his decoration’?”

“Yes, that! What is ‘decoration’!? Did you two know anything about this?”

Mirai and Masaki-san shook their heads furiously.

I’d reported my recent circumstances to Yousuke-san beforehand, but it seems he hadn’t told Nagisa-san.

Come to think of it, Mirai hadn’t looked like she knew I’d be arriving today either. Nagisa-san aside, it’s hard to imagine Yousuke-san setting up a surprise to startle them, so he likely just forgot because he was busy.

“Well then, Ayataka-kun. Would you mind explaining it to everyone?”

“Understood. Please wait a moment.”

I went to my room, brought my canvas bag, and took out a thick envelope. Inside the envelope were a black medal engraved with a condor and a certificate written in Spanish, commending my achievements.

“You see, Ayataka-kun worked hard to help an ethnic minority suffering at the hands of local mafia, and in recognition of those achievements, he was awarded a medal by the Republic of Cicymel.”

Yousuke-san gave a rough summary. It was hard for me to explain myself, so that helped. It wasn’t exactly something to boast about with a smug face, after all.

“Does that mean Ayataka-kun fought the mafia?”

“Well, I had a lot of people helping me, so it’s not like I fought alone. There were only a few shootouts, too.”

“…So there were shootouts.”

“Well, a little bit. We were chased when we were leaving the country, too. Thanks to that, my return got delayed…”

“””Don’t give us ‘Thanks to that’!”””

I received a simultaneous tsukkomi from Mirai, Masaki-san, and Nagisa-san. What is this, a triple conjugation?

“No, but the plan I came up with then worked out, and the President mobilized the army. We crushed the mafia, and I was able to come back safely…”

As I stammered, intimidated by their menacing aura, Nagisa-san closed in on me.

“I-I’m sorry!”

I apologized reflexively. Because of my childhood experiences, I’m weak against the women of the Miyazu family.

Naturally, that wasn’t enough for forgiveness, and Nagisa-san grabbed my shoulders firmly.

“That’s not the problem! Geez, why did you do something so dangerous!”

“B-But…”

“No buts! Hah? You fought the mafia? Good grief, what is Hoshikichi-san letting a child do!? If I’d known Cicymel was such a dangerous place, I absolutely wouldn’t have let you go! Hey, did you know about this?”

“N-No… I heard that the village where Hoshikichi-kun was staying was a peaceful mountain village, and since research teams from various countries were staying there, the environment wasn’t bad.”

Nagisa-san’s anger extended to my father, and Yousuke-san, having the conversation thrown at him, was flustered.

“Um… it’s not like I fought alone, my father too… and lots of people lent a hand…”

“The moment he involved you, every single one of them failed as an adult! A child was in danger, and what’s this about a medal! What’s this about a celebration! I will absolutely never forgive Hoshikichi-san for taking you to a dangerous foreign country, Ayataka-kun!”

Those were unexpected words.

At first, I went to Cicymel to run away. But as I watched the majestic Andes mountains and the people living tough lives in that inconvenient environment, my mindset changed.

If I work hard here, maybe I can catch up to the backs of Mirai and Masaki, which I could only watch that day. I decided in my heart to change myself in that land.

I was scared, but I took on the challenge.

It was hard, but I put in the effort.

So that I wouldn’t return to the weak and pathetic self of those days. I endured, kept putting up a brave front, and continued to act out my ideal self.

The reason I fought the mafia was also because there was something I absolutely wanted to protect.

That village deep in the Andes mountains hadn’t been known to exist until relatively recently. Because of that, it was neglected by the government, and the village was targeted by human traffickers.

If the one targeted hadn’t been that child, I might have just been swept along like a normal kid.

But because I absolutely wanted to protect her, I started taking action in place of the unreliable government and the village adults.

I uploaded the state of the village to the internet, and since it was well-received, I started a streaming business. With that revenue and funds gained from investments, I contracted a PMC (Private Military Company). Around that time, the adults changed their mindset and started cooperating, and I secured cooperation from influential people in the surrounding areas to obtain weapons and fortify the village’s defenses.

However, on the day that child and I left the village to go to school in Japan, we were attacked by the mafia. We fled while the PMC people drew their attention.

Running through bullets, warming each other in the wilderness at night, that child and I escaped the mafia and reached Japan.

Because a foreign child was attacked, the Cicymel government finally got off its butt and deployed the army to destroy the mafia. Apparently, fighter jets bombed the leader’s mansion and the cocaine factory that was their source of funds.

The awarding of a medal to a minor Japanese national—something that could be called exceptional—was done because the President, impressed by my courage and action, wanted to express his respect in a tangible form. Well, partly it was for the sake of the Cicymel government’s face too.

If I had remained as I was before, both that child and I would surely have been killed. I achieved it because I worked hard. The medal is the form that result took.

Due to the decoration, I was praised by many people.

My father, who usually only thinks about research, shed tears of joy at the award ceremony.

Nagisa-san completely denied all of that.

Nagisa-san’s reprimand toward my hard work and the people who cooperated felt far too unreasonable.

And yet, why?

I should be angry, but strangely enough, I feel happy.

Suddenly, I was embraced by Nagisa-san.

“I’m glad you could come back. Really, I’m glad you’re safe…”

Ah, I see.

Nagisa-san is genuinely worried about my safety. That’s why.

“I’m sorry for saying such things when you worked so hard. But I just couldn’t forgive it. We adults let you work this hard, didn’t we? I’m truly sorry.”

At Nagisa-san’s words, a heat rose deep within my chest. The welling heat went from my chest to my throat, and then overflowed as tears.

Ah, how uncool.

To think I’d cry in front of Mirai and Masaki, the very people I wished to catch up to, of all people.

Though it’s a secret that I was thinking if I was going to be hugged anyway, Mirai or Masaki-san would have been better.

“Aaah. Mom made Ayata cry.”

“Like I’d forgive you just for crying! Geez!”

Nagisa-san ruffled my hair messily before finally releasing me.

“Even if he got cool, Ayata is still Ayata.”

“Sorry for remaining uncool on the inside.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad. Here, wipe your tears with this.”

Mirai took out a beautiful handkerchief from her kimono sleeve and handed it to me, so I gratefully used it.

“Thanks. I’ll wash it and return it.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. It’s going to be washed in our washing machine anyway. Can you even iron, Ayata?”

Mirai took the handkerchief from my hand as I failed to retort, folded it neatly, and put it away in her sleeve.

“Nagisa-san, please calm down for a moment too. Let’s rejoice that Ayataka-kun returned safely for now. Look, the special meal will get cold, and everyone must be hungry, right?”

As for the furious Nagisa-san, Yousuke-san was desperately soothing her. I’ve seen Mirai get scolded by Nagisa-san and Yousuke-san admonishing her since long ago, so seeing that nothing had changed was somewhat relieving.

“You’re right. It’s not like Ayataka-kun is in the wrong. But, I will have you tell me the full story in detail next time, okay?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“Dear? You don’t have anything else hidden, right?”

“No, not particularly hidden… I also only found out via email yesterday, you see.”

“My! So you knew as of yesterday!?”

“Dad is guilty.”

“I think Yousuke-ojisama is at fault for failing to report, contact, and consult.”

“Muu, sorry.”

Pressed by the women, Yousuke-san was also overwhelmed.

“Ayata too, couldn’t you have contacted us sooner?”

“I didn’t have a phone, and I bought a tablet yesterday and emailed. Didn’t Yousuke-san hear from my father?”

“N-No, nothing about that…”

I didn’t have a means to contact them until now, but Father and Yousuke-san should have been contacting each other frequently.

“Dear. Please let me check your emails later. Is that okay?”

“Y-Yes.”

This is a story I heard later, but apparently, the exchanges between my father and Yousuke-san were entirely about their shared hobbies: camping gear and drones. Angered by this, Nagisa-san reportedly sent a long lecture email to my father starting with the subject line: “Good grief, men!”

Chapter 12: Cheers

“Well then, once again, cheers!”

“”””Cheers!!!!””””

We re-did our toast. Then, each of us reached for the food with our chopsticks.

“Asou-kun. Is this much rice okay? Since you’re a boy, would more be better?”

“Ah, yeah. That’s just right. Thanks.”

Masaki-san went around serving rice from a cypress ohitsu (rice container). Actually, it felt like quite a lot, but since she served about the same amount in Mirai’s and her own bowls, it must be a normal amount for her. I’m concerned that Nagisa-san and Yousuke-san only have about 60% of that in their bowls, but we are growing high schoolers.

“Itadakimasu.”

Right away, chawanmushi! …No, I took a slice of sashimi, dipped it in soy sauce and wasabi, and ate it with rice. After all, this is food from ‘Raimu’s’ head chef. It’s not something you can eat often.

Ah. The soy sauce and wasabi permeate my senses. This is the taste of Japan.

Following that, two slices, three slices, my chopsticks advanced, and the rice steadily disappeared. She served me a large portion, but at this pace, it’s certain I’ll run out.

The tempura was exquisite too. Shrimp, squid, shiso leaf, shishito pepper, plus maitake mushroom and crab stick—rich in variety and very delicious.

“Nako, refill!”

“Yes, yes.”

Masaki-san responds to Mirai’s request for a refill, as she was the first to empty her bowl. I want to say “do it yourself,” but since this is apparently part of her waitress training, I won’t interfere.

Masaki-san serves a heaping amount of rice again and returns the bowl. Incidentally, her own bowl is also nearly empty. I still have about half left though?

“Thanks!”

Receiving the rice, Mirai resumes eating. It’s definitely not that her way of eating is messy. She chews properly and doesn’t spill anything. Her eating style, moving her chopsticks without hesitation, is so skillful it makes me feel good just watching.

Masaki-san is the same. Masaki-san, who got a refill following Mirai, also carries food to her mouth with beautiful chopstick handling.

“Ayata, your chopsticks aren’t moving much; does the food not suit your taste?”

“No, it’s really delicious. I was just savoring the taste of Japan.”

Mirai seems to have noticed my slow eating pace.

True, savoring it was part of it. But the big reason is that my chopstick handling has gotten rusty.

After returning to Japan, I went into Japanese restaurants to eat a few times, but since I was constantly matching my pace with my stepsister, a chopstick beginner, I didn’t feel it was a problem. However, compared to Mirai and Masaki-san, the difference is obvious. If the current me tried to eat at their pace, it would likely result in a disastrous mess of spilled food.

“I wonder if the chopsticks are hard to use?”

“Hahan. I see.”

Nagisa-san noticed my chopstick handling had dulled. Mirai’s eyes twinkled.

Good grief! This lady says unnecessary things!?

“Ayata, aaahn.”

Sure enough, Mirai picked up a crab stick tempura with her chopsticks and brought it close.

“You don’t want it? Then maybe I’ll eat it?”

Damn you! To use the crab stick I was saving for later is cowardly!

I cast a resentful gaze at Nagisa-san, but she looked away. As for Yousuke-san, he’s just grinning and useless.

Masaki-san seemed engrossed in the meat tofu in the pot.

Don’t refuse hospitality offered, except for money and valuables. That was the advice I received from my father regarding meetings with influential people over there.

I ate any bizarre food offered, and drank alcohol if recommended. I was even offered a young girl as a bed partner once.

Compared to those, this level of shame play is nothing but a reward!

I bit the edge of the tempura without touching the chopsticks to snatch it, then swallowed while chewing carefully so as not to drop it.

As expected of the head chef’s tempura. Truly delicious.

“Ahaha, Ayata looks like a kingfisher!”

“Ayataka-kun really has changed. In the old days, you would have been too embarrassed and absolutely wouldn’t have eaten it.”

“That’s true. I must hear more thoroughly about what happened over there. Man to man.”

Yousuke-san seems to have realized something. But please spare me from talk about female relationships over there. That’s a story that would be a crime in Japan.

“Good grief, please don’t tease me.”

Saying that, I open the lid of my prized chawanmushi. Howaa, steam spreads, and the scent of dashi and egg wafts out.

Yep. Wonderful.

“Ayata liked chawanmushi, so I put extra effort into making it.”

“You remembered. It looks very delicious. Thank you.”

The chawanmushi Mirai said she made really looks delicious. Seeing chicken inside also scores high points. It soaks up the dashi and is tasty. Plus, since you don’t use chopsticks, there’s no worry of being fed “aaahn“.

Or so I thought, but I was naive.

“So I’ll give you a bite. Here, aaahn.”

A spoon presented from the side. Sitting on it is my favorite chawanmushi. However, with this, I can’t imitate what I did with the tempura earlier and take it without touching my lips to the utensil.

Seeing me freeze, Mirai flashes a mischievous smile.

Glancing at Masaki-san, she was sipping clear soup with elegant gestures, looking as if it didn’t concern her.

“What’s wrong, Ayata? Shall I blow on it (fuu-fuu) for you?”

Mirai tries to blow on the spoon.

Like hell I’ll let you!

Pakuri. I took the spoon in my mouth.

The egg unraveled fluffily, and the umami of the dashi spread to fill my mouth. The taste I had been seeking for five years.

“Is it yummy?”

“It’s yummy.”

“Really? I’m glad!”

It was delicious without complaint. For Mirai, who used to put Ajinomoto in pudding and call it chawanmushi in the past, this is significant growth.

Yousuke-san and Nagisa-san also tried it and said things like “The texture…” or “The flavor…”, but I don’t get any of that. Leaving aside serving it to customers at a first-class inn, as home cooking by a high schooler, it’s more than sufficient level.

“The seasoning seems a little strong; did you mistake the amount of salt?”

“Because Ayata was overseas for a long time, I thought a light seasoning would be unsatisfying.”

“Thank you, for my sake. It’s very delicious.”

“In that case, I have nothing to say.”

Nagisa-san had criticized the strong seasoning of the chawanmushi, but upon hearing the reason, she seemed convinced. Her expression looked somewhat satisfied.

“I prefer seasoning about this strong too.”

“Oh my, no good, you know? Japanese food is high in salt to begin with. You need to start being careful about your health soon too, dear.”

“U-Umu.”

If I recall, Nagisa-san is still barely in her 30s. Yousuke-san is in his mid-40s, an age where he has to be careful about his health. Watching the couple firmly under the wife’s thumb like this is somewhat heartwarming.

Not just the chawanmushi. The simmered dishes, ohitashi, and meat tofu—the food Mirai made was all very delicious.

If not for the “aaahn”, I could have savored it more…

Thus the meal progressed, leaving only the ice cream for dessert. I was full after eating two bowls of rice, but the vanilla ice cream served in a glass bowl with mint and chocolate chips went into my overworked stomach without any trouble.

Mirai and Masaki-san, who had finished off three bowls of rice, were also eating with smiling faces.

“Do you make such elaborate things every day, Mirai?”

“No way! Usually, we keep it simpler. The last time I made this was probably for Nako’s welcome party. So, probably the next time will be Nako’s birthday party.”

“I feel bad about it too, but she says it doubles as practice for cooking and serving.”

I see; I accept that the luxurious meal is part of Mirai’s training to become the future proprietress of ‘Raimu’.

“No, before that, Ayataka-kun’s stepsister’s welcome party comes first. She’s coming here during the consecutive holidays, right? It’s a busy season, so I don’t know if Nagisa and I can participate, though.”

“Thank you very much. My stepsister will be happy too.”

“Nnya?”

Mirai’s eyes turn to me with a spoon in her mouth.

“Did Ayata have a little sister?”

“Dear. Was there still something you kept silent about?”

“It’s not like I was keeping silent particularly…”

Under Nagisa-san’s icy gaze, Yousuke-san is flustered again.

Masaki-san was sipping hot tea with eyes like a capybara.

“She was there when I went over. It seems Dad took in the daughter of a research colleague who passed away. I didn’t know until then either.”

“Heeh! What kind of girl is she?”

“I’m curious too.”

Not just Mirai and Nagisa-san, but Masaki-san also seems interested and turns her gaze this way.

I take out my tablet PC from my bag and start it up. Set as the home screen is the photo I took yesterday with my stepsister, with the Skytree in the background.

“Wow, a beautiful girl.”

“Cute…”

“This is amazing.”

“A mystery born of the Andes, huh.”

Each of them states their surprised impressions, but it’s no wonder.

Because the appearance of my stepsister directing an innocent smile on the screen had coloring far removed from a Japanese person.

Pale platinum blonde hair and amber skin. Topaz eyes. The poncho she wore highlighted her mystique, making one mistake her for a heroine who wandered out of a fantasy world.

Asou Kunia. My stepsister, and the girl I swore to protect even at the risk of my life.

Chapter 13: Stepsister

Once the dinner, which also served as my welcome party, ended, Yousuke-san and Nagisa-san returned to work, and Mirai and Masaki-san began cleaning up in the kitchen.

When I offered to help, I was kicked out with the words, “For Ayata, doing nothing is helping.” It’s vexing, but it’s probably faster if only the people used to it do it.

With no choice, I returned to my room and started setting up my newly bought smartphone. Since I was involved in the video streaming business over there, there are quite a few accounts and apps I need to carry over. I left my original phone over there, so I had to set everything up from scratch, which took quite a bit of time. Once I finished the general smartphone setup, I connected my tablet via tethering and sent an email to Kuu. Kuu is my stepsister’s nickname.

Kuu doesn’t have a smartphone yet, but I gave her a tablet matching mine. The dormitory Kuu is in is fully equipped with Wi-Fi, so communication is possible.

“Enrollment preparations complete. Brother will become a high school student starting tomorrow. How are things over there?” I type in Japanese and send it. It would be faster to use Spanish at this point, but we decided to use Japanese except for emergencies when living in Japan.

There are a lot of Kanji, will she be okay?

Kuu can carry on daily conversation without problems, but when it comes to writing, she still has a long way to go. She can’t differentiate between Katakana and Hiragana properly, and she’s still studying Kanji.

That said, my own Kanji learning stopped at 4th grade, so I don’t have the confidence to write decent sentences without a machine’s conversion function. So I can’t really act high and mighty.

After a few minutes, a reply comes from Kuu.

“NIPPON GA BOKU WO DAME NI SHITEKURU (Japan is spoiling me/ruining me).”

At the message written entirely in Katakana, my cheeks loosen unintentionally.

Before I knew it, she became a ‘boku-girl’ (girl who uses the masculine ‘boku’). The one who taught Kuu Japanese is, unsurprisingly, me. Good grief, teaching is difficult.

Spoiling me/Ruining me… Well, it’s not unreasonable for her to feel that way.

The place Kuu lived in was a village where even electricity didn’t run properly, a place that could never be called wealthy by Japanese standards.

Living in Japan must feel like coming to another world for Kuu. Even when I went to the village, I thought I had wandered into another world, so I understand the feeling well.

Convenient home appliances, diverse food culture. Once you get used to clean toilets, you won’t be able to return to village life. Kuu might have feared that. Regarding this, I’m the same.

“Aren’t you lonely? Do you think you’ll make friends?” I sent, and the reply “AMIGA DEKITA (Made a female friend)” came back.

Amiga is Spanish for female friend. If it were Amigo (male friend), I would have headed to Tokyo immediately.

I couldn’t meet the other dormitory students because it was during school hours, but the caretaker was a nice person, and surely she received a welcome at the dorm too. It’s great that she seems to have made friends.

“Enjoy life in Japan,” I send. After a while, a reply with an image arrived.

In it, Kuu in pajamas was sandwiched between a blonde girl and a redhead girl, showing a shy smile.

“Hi! Big Brother! Leave Kunia to us!” The message written in Japanese was clearly not written by Kuu. The two on either side must be Kuu’s amigas. She must have gotten stuck on the Kanji for “enjoy” (mankitsu) or something and asked for help.

It looks like they are in a room, so are they roommates? I’m glad they seem like good kids. I typed, “Thank you. <<It’s only for a short while>>, but please take care of my sister,” and replied.

“Ayata. Can I come in?”

Mirai’s voice came from the other side of the sliding door, and I put down the tablet.

Looking at the clock, it was 21:00. It’s a late hour for a girl to visit a man’s room. However, this is Mirai’s house to begin with, and as someone being allowed to stay, it’s hard to refuse. When I gave the OK, Mirai, and Masaki-san too, entered.

“Even Masaki-san. You shouldn’t visit a man’s room at this hour.”

Both seem to be fresh out of the bath. Dressed in yukata and hanten jackets, their long hair, which was tied up during the day, is now flowing smoothly down their backs.

“Because, you see. I was curious about Ayata’s stories from over there.”

“That’s right. Hearing a story like that, I’m so curious I can’t focus on studying, and I can only sleep at night.”

“You can sleep!? Then brush your teeth and go to sleep quickly before you catch a chill.”

“Eeh! But I’m curious! About Ayataka-kun, and about your stepsister.”

Masaki-san pouts. Since coming to this house, her way of calling me changed from Asou-kun to Ayataka-kun. It’s fine, though.

“Right, right. So, is now okay?”

I have time. But my reason might not last very long.

Both Mirai and Masaki-san have bodies that are sexy beyond their age to begin with. On top of that, they’re fresh out of the bath. Bad, this is bad.

“I have preparations for tomorrow too, so if it’s just a little. Look. I was just emailing my stepsister.”

“Can I see?”

“Sure.”

When I showed the tablet, the two brought their faces close to peek. The gesture of brushing up their hair, their flushed, lustrous skin, and the scent of shampoo make me dizzy.

The people in question, unaware of my feelings, look at the sent photo and make a fuss saying “Cute, cute.”

“Wow. She really is cute. She’s in a dorm, right? Are the girls with her roommates?”

“Probably.”

While we were talking, an email arrived.

The body text said, “We are Kunia’s roommates! Nice to meet you!” and on the photo, a two-shot of the blonde and redhead girls, there were signatures in yellow and pink saying Franca for the blonde and Elisa for the redhead.

“Apparently so.”

“They’re cute girls, aren’t they. Are you going to reply?”

“Well, yeah. Kuu is going to be in their care, after all.”

I don’t like showing my face, but since they showed theirs, I should play fair. I take a photo of myself and reply with “I’m Kuu’s brother, Ayataka. Nice to meet you.”

Naturally, I was careful not to let Mirai or Masaki-san be in the frame. If it became known that I brought girls into my room at night, I’d definitely be put before a family council. Leaving Father aside, if Kuu hated me, I wouldn’t be able to live anymore.

“Your stepsister seems to be having fun. But, didn’t you think about living together here?”

“When we decided to go to Japan, it was still during the time we were being chased by the mafia. For safety, and also Kuu… ah, my stepsister, right? Kuu still can’t read or write Japanese that well. Since it would be difficult to take classes at a general junior high school, she entered an international school in Tokyo.”

I show the email from Kuu that only has Katakana.

“Actually, she’s incredibly smart, but because the teacher was useless, it ended up like this.”

“Could it be that Ayataka-kun was teaching her?”

“Yeah. Shortly after we met. I learned English and Spanish from Kuu, and in exchange, I taught her Japanese. We didn’t use it over there, but Kuu was interested. By the time I somehow mastered English and Spanish, she had long since remembered it and was playing shiritori or arguing with Father.”

“””Wait a minute.”””

Suddenly, the two interrupted the conversation.

“Ayata, you can speak English and Spanish?”

“Of course. Technically, I can speak Spanish, English, and a little bit of Aymara.”

The official language of the Republic of Cicymel where I lived is Spanish, but the research team members staying in the village used English, and the majority of the villagers used the local language, Aymara.

“””Ooh~!”””

I think they were surprised that I’m multilingual. Mirai and Masaki-san make their mouths into an ‘O’ shape.

It doesn’t feel bad to be looked at with respect by two beautiful girls, but in Cicymel, being multilingual isn’t rare. Around there, various languages are mixed, and there are even people who live without realizing they are using multiple languages.

“I can only speak English besides Japanese.”

“I can only speak English and Chinese.”

Wait a second! Masaki-san is more amazing! Chinese is super difficult, you know!

“Masaki-san is more amazing! Besides, if Mirai can speak English, that’s enough.”

“Recently, foreign customers have increased, so I had to learn it.”

“For us too, workers from China have increased, so I had to learn it.”

“That’s admirable. I respect that a lot.”

Both are studying for their family businesses. While I was working hard to live in the now in Cicymel, Mirai and Masaki-san were working hard for the future. Maybe I still haven’t caught up to their backs from that day at all. I was made to feel that way.

“But Ayata can speak four languages, right? That’s definitely amazing.”

“People around there use quite a few languages, so it’s not that surprising. Kuu can speak Swedish and some minor tribal language on top of that.”

“Eh!? What!? Is your stepsister a genius!?”

“Yeah. She’s smart enough that a professor from some amazing university seriously tried to recruit her.”

“University professor? How old is he?”

“Over 50.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Yeah, dangerous. He’s a famous scholar in archaeological circles, but Father banned him from the house.”

“More than that, why Swedish?”

“Kuu’s real father was Swedish. He passed away in an accident about half an year before I went over there.”

I answer Masaki-san’s question. It’s natural to wonder why Kuu, living in South America, can use a Northern European language.

Well, this is a story as troubling as the lolicon professor, but…

“Then why did Ayataka-kun’s father take her in instead of her family home in Sweden? What about her mother?”

“Kuu’s mother was a local, and apparently passed away in the accident together with the father. Kuu was the only survivor, and my father took her in when she became all alone. I can’t say any more details than this from my mouth.”

“I see… somehow, sorry.”

“No, the ones in the wrong are Kuu’s parents.”

Kuu’s father laid hands on a girl who made her living as a dancer in the village, despite having a wife and child back home. The result was Kuu.

I can’t tell such a story to young ladies in a place where the person involved isn’t present.

Masaki-san seemed to have mostly guessed, but Mirai is tilting her head in puzzlement with a face like a chinchilla.

You’re fine like that. Please stay that way.

Although he was a person who committed adultery, Kuu’s biological father was apparently a very excellent researcher. And her mother was reportedly a very beautiful person. Kuu splendidly inherited her parents’ good points.

From her father, an excellent brain and platinum blonde hair. From her mother, beautiful looks and amber skin… Also, not just her head, but her reflexes are outstandingly good too.

“However, because she was too excellent, both Father and I let our guard down. It was decided to naturalize Kuu, who was being targeted by the mafia, to Japan. When it came time to do the transfer procedures, Kuu started saying things like, ‘Boku can speak Japanese, but can’t read or write at all, you know?’ Come to think of it, we remembered we hadn’t taught her, and Father’s eyes became dots too.”

“When was that?”

“Around the same time I submitted the application for Toto, so about two months ago.”

“Are you guys useless!?”

For some reason, I was the one scolded back then. Why didn’t you teach her?

Even if you say that, teaching her Japanese was originally like play, and we never anticipated that Kuu would come to live in Japan, so it couldn’t be helped.

“Hey, Ayataka-kun. Just now, didn’t you say Kuu-chan is being targeted by the mafia?”

“Didn’t I say that?”

“I didn’t hear it. I assumed Ayataka-kun was the one being targeted.”

“No, I’m the one who got dragged in. That part is a pretty disgusting story, but do you want to hear it?”

“””We want to hear!”””

Since Mirai and Masaki-san spoke in unison, I decided to tell them the circumstances of how Kuu came to be targeted by the mafia.

Chapter 14: Angel

February 14th… That’s Fundoshi Day!!

It’s an update for the Fundoshi Academy Story after a long absence!! I’ll think about setting mistakes in the future…

I connected the tablet to the cloud service and played the stored video file.

Mirai sat beside me, and Masaki-san leaned against Mirai’s back, peeking over her shoulder. It’s a somehow very happy dumpling state.

“This is a video posted on You-Tube two years ago. It’s hardly known in Japan, though.”

A piano piece begins to flow from the tablet’s speakers. The song is Pachelbel’s Canon.

A large mansion. A wide garden. A magnificent grand piano… The figure of a girl playing the melody is projected.

“””…Angel!”””

It must have slipped out unintentionally, but Mirai and Masaki-san’s voices overlapped.

Well, I understand.

Long flaxen hair, skin white enough to be sickly. At the figure of the girl clad in a white dress on a delicate body, I also uttered the same word at first sight.

Viewer comments were similarly overflowing with “ANGEL!”. There is no doubt that many people were captivated by her lovely and ephemeral appearance.

Amidst the flowing piano performance, scenes of her playing with flowers and puppies in the garden. Sleeping while hugging a stuffed animal.

A face hiding sorrow staring out the window. Reflected in her gaze are girls of the same age walking while chatting happily.

Only this scene clearly has a different shooting location, but the reason for daring to include this direction will become clear later.

Like a promotional video, the girl’s daily scenery flows. If you look only at this, it’s truly an angel’s daily life.

“Hey, Ayata. Who is this girl? A foreign child actor?”

“She is Angelica Ferrero. The daughter of the boss of the Ferrero Family, Cicymel’s largest mafia.”

“””Hah!?”””

I smile wryly at the surprised two. If told such an angel-like girl is a mafia daughter, it’s no wonder.

I paused the video for a moment.

“True, her appearance is an angel.”

“But, for a mafia daughter’s name to be Angel…”

“Even if she looks like an angel, on the inside she’s a devil.”

“Somehow, like Nako… Ngya.”

Mirai, who said something unnecessary, has her neck wrapped in Masaki-san’s arm and raises an amusing voice.

Certainly, possessing the appearance and name of a Yamato Nadeshiko while actually being mischievous and a tomboy, Masaki-san and Angelica Ferrero have similar points.

“Mirai. Lumping Masaki-san together with this Angelica Ferrero is rude. Masaki-san is at a level where the gap with her appearance can be dismissed as cute, but Angelica Ferrero is not like that.”

“Fufu. Mi-chan. He says I’m cute.”

“Don’t be deceived, Ayata. Nako’s true form is an ogre child. An ogress wearing the skin of a lady so… Migyaa!”

Masaki-san tightens her hold on Mirai. Since they are frolicking in yukata, chests and calves are flashing here and there, and it’s troubling because it’s poison for the eyes?

“It’s because Mirai says unnecessary things. Masaki-san, that’s enough too. The important part is from here on.”

“Okaay.”

Although she loosened the hand tightening on Mirai, Masaki-san remains stuck to Mirai’s back. Rather than an ogre, she’s like the yokai Konaki-Jiji.

Mirai looks like “good grief” and doesn’t seem to intend to shake her off.

Honestly speaking, I want to watch the two frolicking like this forever. However, since my reason is seriously about to be in danger, I manage to maintain a poker face and proceed with the story.

“I’m continuing, okay? I’ll translate her lines.”

Saying that, I resume playing the video.

The daily life scenery ends, and Angelica begins to speak with the piano in the background. Since it’s Spanish, the two probably won’t understand. I translate Angelica Ferrero’s words into Japanese.

“My name is Angelica Ferrero. 13 years old… Ouch!?”

Suddenly, I get whacked on the head by Mirai.

“Stop mimicking the voice! It’s creepy!”

Cruel… Even though I was trying to be considerate…

Masaki-san also hit her funny bone and is burying her face in Mirai’s back, laughing.

“Do it normally, please.”

“…Got it.”

My name is Angelica Ferrero. 13 years old.

I have a dream of becoming a pianist. To make my dream come true, I’ve been practicing since I was four.

But, God was cruel to me.

I have a heart disease. A disease that won’t be cured unless I have a transplant surgery.

The doctor told me that without a transplant, I can’t live for many more years.

I can’t even go to school. Only inside this narrow house is my world.

I hate that! I don’t want to die like this!

I want to live! I want to make my dream come true! I want to make friends, and I want to go to school too!

I am currently waiting for a heart donation from a donor.

But you see… I don’t want a heart from someone I don’t even know.

An auntie, or a dirty homeless person, I absolutely refuse. From a man, I’d rather die.

That’s why I searched for the owner of a heart suitable for me.

(Kunia’s photo is displayed)

Look! Isn’t she super cute!

She is Kunia. Not only cute, but healthy and smart too. The best girl overflowing with talent!

According to the doctor, Kunia’s heart is a best match for me!

Kunia was born to save me! No doubt about it!

What I want is Kunia’s heart! I won’t accept anything but Kunia’s! So please. Someone bring her heart to me. If you bring it, I’ll give you a kiss! And then I’ll present you with 1 million dollars!

Silence continued for a while after the video ended. Mirai and Masaki-san are dumbfounded. The charm of Angelica Ferrero has surely completely broken.

Mirai opens her mouth.

“Is this kid crazy in the head?”

I nodded.

“Overseas celebs are surprisingly all like this, you know?”

“I think that’s prejudice, but this child is terrible.”

Indignation can be felt from Masaki-san’s tone too.

I was internally relieved that the two had normal sensibilities.

Because there are guys who say things like “I’m captivated, I admire it!” even after knowing the devil’s true nature.

“The rampage of a mafia daughter who wants Kuu’s heart. That is the trigger for why I came into conflict with the mafia.”

“Can we still watch this?”

“No, the account itself was deleted and banned the next day. Since it’s no different from a murder request. Though it seems copies remain in the underground.”

There are hardly any humans who would take such a video seriously. However, the request of a lovely girl moved the local mafia and the one-in-ten-thousand idiots. If 1 million people watch, that’s 100 people.

Those guys who fell under Angelica’s charm crossed the Andes Mountains and came targeting Kuu.

“How did the mafia kid find Ayata’s stepsister? Organ transplants can’t be done by just anyone, right?”

“The Red Cross staff who came periodically to the village for medical examinations were bribed. The village I lived in was an autonomous region without even police, so it had been eyed by kidnapping organizations for organ trafficking purposes for a long time. Even if people were kidnapped, the country wouldn’t act.”

“Ayataka-kun. You were safe often being in such a place!?”

“Since they don’t want to make it public either, they don’t target foreigners or general citizens living in towns. The ones targeted are people in mountain villages who wouldn’t be noticed if they went missing. The village I lived in had many researchers from abroad staying, so there was almost none of that, but it seems surrounding villages had whatever done to them.”

“That’s… terrible.”

“Well, the Cicymel government finally started moving on crackdowns, so surely it will get better from now on.”

I pat the heads of Mirai and Masaki-san, who have become a totem pole, in order.

Wait, is this sexual harassment? They didn’t seem to dislike it, so it’s okay, right?

“So, are Ayataka-kun and Kuu-chan okay? Will the mafia come chasing after you?”

“I think that’s almost no problem. Angelica Ferrero seems to be in a hospital in Bolivia now, but her physical strength to withstand a transplant is apparently reaching its limit. Isn’t she probably giving up and waiting for a proper donor? Her family home was crushed too, so she probably doesn’t have the funds to kidnap Kuu from Japan either.”

The Ferrero Family, Angelica Ferrero’s family home, had its funding source, the drug factory, and the boss’s mansion destroyed by the Cicymel government. Due to this, the drug cartel within Cicymel collapsed, and it seems they were attacked by angry former peers and completely crushed.

However, it’s not like everything is over. Considering the possibility that Ferrero Family remnants might attack Japanese people in retaliation or take hostages to demand Kuu’s custody, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs is currently calling for self-restraint in traveling to Cicymel. The reason Father can’t return is also this; Father is living under house arrest in a hotel with guards from the Cicymel government.

The village people hold distrust toward the Cicymel government and Westerners, and unless Father acts as an intermediary, they won’t cooperate with reconciliation with the government or research. Therefore, the Cicymel government and research institutions of various countries would be troubled if Father returned.

“Now, it’s late so let’s go back. I want to prepare for tomorrow too.”

I close the tablet. It’s about time I chased out these two who are too unaware of their own sex appeal.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry for sticking my nose in somehow. Come on, Nako, let’s go too?”

“Ayataka-kun. If anything happens, definitely consult us, okay. We might be able to help.”

“I don’t know what I can do either, though. No more going somewhere silently, okay.”

“Yeah. I think it was good that you listened too. Good night.”

“Good night, Ayata.”

“Good night.”

I see off the two leaving the room.

Kuu. I made Amigas too.

In the room where their lingering scent remained, I was wrapped in a very warm feeling.

Chapter 15: Canned Coffee

The next day, I woke up before the alarm went off.

Checking my smartphone, it was before 6 AM. I could sleep for another 30 minutes or so, but my throat was parched, so I slipped out of the futon.

The morning was still a little chilly.

Throwing my poncho over my nightwear and grabbing my wallet, I went outside. My destination: a vending machine.

Since returning to Japan, I’ve been hooked on canned coffee.

On the night I arrived in Japan. On the way back to the hotel after eating dinner at a family restaurant, Kuu, intrigued by a brightly lit vending machine in a park, begged for one, and that was the trigger for me buying canned coffee for the first time in my life.

I had low sugar, Kuu had café au lait.

Drinking them together on a park bench, it was simply delicious.

There are plenty of other delicious coffees. But that hot canned coffee I drank then felt like it permeated my chest; it was just delicious.

Leaving the Miyazu family entrance, I trudged through the narrow alleys and came out onto the main street. Being a tourist spot, I found a vending machine immediately. The variety was abundant too.

“Waaarm drinks. How ’bout it?”

Moreover, it talks. Interesting.

I bought two cans—a brand I haven’t bought yet and the brand I’ve liked since first drinking it—and headed back.

One is hot black coffee to drink right away. The other is cold standard.

Holding the cold one under my arm and rolling the hot can in my palm, I walked back.

The hot spring town was hazy white with morning mist. At the inns, it seemed the cooks had already started prep work. The smell of cooking rice wafted through the air.

‘Raimu’ was apparently originally a separate residence for court nobles visiting for hot spring cures. The buildings from that time were lost to war and earthquakes, but the gate structure and garden retain traces of that era. Walking along the wall surrounding ‘Raimu’, I saw a man in a kappougi (cooking apron) coming out of the back door.

I recognized him. It’s Takarada-san, the head chef at ‘Raimu’.

“Head Chef-san! Good morning!”

“Ah, good morning.”

He probably thought I was a guest staying at ‘Raimu’. Takarada-san returned the greeting with a customer-service smile, but then he seemed to realize who I was.

“Oh!? Kid, could you be Asou-sensei’s boy?”

“Yes. It’s been a while. Thank you for the meal yesterday. I ate sashimi for the first time in a long time, and it was super delicious.”

“No, no. It was sudden so I felt bad I didn’t have good ingredients. But, you’ve become a fine man. No wonder Mirai-chan is so enthusiastic.”

“Geez, please don’t tease me. Mirai wouldn’t take someone like me seriously.”

“Is that so? You were close since way back, weren’t you?”

“I was just her henchman.”

“Ahaha!”

The head chef has doted on Mirai like a granddaughter since long ago, and his desire for Mirai to be happy is stronger than anyone’s.

Honestly, feeling that if we talked any longer he’d ask about my relationship with Mirai which would be troublesome, I decided to cut the conversation short and retreat.

“Well then, I have to get ready for school, so if you’ll excuse me.”

“Toto High?”

“Yeah, well.”

“Hoho. This is something to look forward to.”

Returning a vague smile to the grinning Takarada-san, I parted ways.

Sorry to Takarada-san, but it’s troubling to have expectations placed on my relationship with Mirai.

Coming in front of the Miyazu house, I opened the canned coffee.

I poured the hot coffee down my throat.

Ah, delicious.

“Oi. Suspicious person. What are you doing in front of someone’s house?”

I realized Mirai was behind me.

Dressed in a red jersey, slightly sweaty, her cheeks flushed.

“Mornin’. Were you running? Energetic from the morning, huh.”

“Mornin’. Well, yeah. I ate quite a bit last night. What are you doing, Ayata? You look super suspicious, you know? There was a hanten normally available, right? Don’t combine South American with Japanese yukata.”

Just like the tennis club yesterday, it seems Japanese JKs don’t understand the goodness of this poncho. Terrible things are being said.

“I wanted to drink coffee. I went to the vending machine.”

“What. There was drip-style instant coffee.”

“It’s bad to use it without asking, right? Besides, Japanese canned coffee is delicious.”

“Hmm.”

“Ah!?”

Mirai snatches the half-drunk canned coffee from my hand. The moment she puts it to her mouth, her face changes into a grimace.

“Bitter! Ayata, how can you drink this?”

“Then give it back. You child, not understanding this deliciousness.”

“What was that—! Despite being Ayata!”

Getting defensive, Mirai puts it to her mouth again, but it seems it’s still bitter.

“Geez, don’t force yourself.”

I take the can back and take a sip. Then, a sigh of relief.

“Haa, delicious…”

“Ayata. You look like some worn-out salaryman.”

“That’s an honor.”

Canned coffee is the partner of the workers who supported the economic giant Japan. Eventually, I want to become an adult who works hard for society and family, someone whom canned coffee suits.

“Weird guy.”

Shut up.

“Come to think of it, where’s Masaki-san? Not together?”

“That girl studies late every day, you see. She always doesn’t get up until the last minute. What? Are you curious about Nako after all, Ayata?”

“Don’t make that smirking face. Until now I’ve only seen you two together, so I just thought she might be hiding somewhere plotting something again.”

“What do you think we are?”

A little devil combo, what else?

Awfully close distance, intense physical contact, teasing, and even now you calmly did an indirect kiss, right?

Usually, if approached this aggressively, one should suspect there’s a hidden agenda. It’s too late after something gets stolen, or a weakness is grasped and you get attacked, or getting involved in such incidents. Having been overseas where public order is worse than Japan, I was knowledgeable about those kinds of things.

Badger games and marriage fraud. I actually had various attempts come my way.

There’s probably no hidden side to Mirai and Masaki-san’s actions. They are simply airheaded and defenseless. But it’s dangerous if they don’t understand their own charm a little more.

Last night, when they came to my room fresh out of the bath, if it hadn’t been me, it might have developed into a mistake.

“Well, whatever. I’m going to take a shower, so if you’re going to wash your face, use the washbasin first.”

“Eh? There’s time so later is fine?”

“So you intend to time it for when I get out and pretend it’s an accident to run into me?”

“I won’t. But just in case, lock the door properly.”

Good grief, what rom-com is this.