My Popular-as-Hell Best Friend Is Annoying, So I Want to Get Him a Girlfriend and Shut Him Up - Chapter 51 & 52 & 53

Chapter 50: Morning at the Hirose Household

T/N MB, THIS IS 50 51 AND 52, WILL CHANGE IT WHEN I RELEASE THIS CHAPTER PUBLICLY, ELSE YOU’LL LOSE ACCESS TO THIS CHAPTER

“Yawn…”

It’s 5:30 a.m. My morning, as Hirose Yukiya, usually starts around this time. Even if I stay up late, it doesn’t shift much. Why? Because I have an important role to play.

I sit up in bed, open the curtains, and let the sunlight hit me. Once my brain’s awake, I leave my room, wash my face in the bathroom, and head to the living room. A pleasant aroma is already wafting from the kitchen.

“Morning, Dad.”

I call out to the figure cooking, and Dad turns with his usual gentle smile.

“Morning, Yuu-kun. Up early as always, huh?”

“It’s the same time every day. You said that yesterday too.”

“Did I?”

This guy, flashing a smile that could easily charm the neighborhood housewives, is my dad, Hirose Tomoya. He’s turning 40 this year, but he looks so youthful you’d believe he’s in his late 20s. Tall, slender, mild-mannered—he’s practically flawless. If I had to name a fault, it’s that he’s too soft on Mom.

“Anything I can help with?”

“Hmm, grab an apple, a banana, and some yogurt from the fridge. Cut the apple and banana into bite-sized pieces. Oh, and pull out three small plates—that’d help.”

“Got it.”

Following Dad’s instructions, I help prep breakfast.

This is my morning role: assisting Dad with breakfast. He always brushes it off, but since he handles all the housework, I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least do this much.

“Dad, anything else?”

Having completed my tasks, I wait for the next order. Usually, there’s nothing left, and he tells me to sit on the couch and watch TV.

“Uh, how about waking your mom?”

“Ugh…”

Despite it being Dad’s request, I let out an obvious groan of refusal.

It’s one of the top three chores I dread.

“…Why don’t you do it, Dad?”

“My hands are tied right now, so it’d really help if you could.”

“…Fine.”

When he puts it like that, I can’t say no. A guy who can’t refuse Dad’s requests—man, I’m such a pushover.

I climb the stairs to Dad and Mom’s bedroom. They sleep together, so why doesn’t he wake her when he gets up? Probably because he’s busy with breakfast and wants her to sleep as long as possible. Mom’s hopeless in the mornings anyway.

I knock before entering their bedroom. Inside, a double bed with a big lump of blankets piled up.

I let out a heavy sigh. Can’t she wake up early to help Dad for once? Why do I have to do this?

Whatever. Dad’s not watching, so I can be a bit rough. Let’s get this over with and back to the living room.

I flip on the room’s lights and yank off the blankets.

“Get up, you old hag!!”

The petite woman doesn’t even flinch at my antics and just keeps sleeping soundly. What the hell? Is she mocking me?

“Wake up!! It’s morning!!”

I get close and slap her cheeks lightly, but there’s no sign of waking. No way—how deep in a dream do you have to be to sleep through this? Her face is getting pretty red.

“Hey! Dad’s calling you!!”

At those words, Mom suddenly bolts upright, like a switch flipped on. Rubbing sleepy eyes, she finally notices me sitting beside her.

“…What?”

That’s the first thing you say to your own son?

“What?! I’m here to wake you up!”

“Didn’t ask you to.”

“Dad asked me! Who else would do it if not him?!”

“Oh.”

Losing interest, she yawns widely and starts stretching. Her attitude pushes my morning irritation to its peak.

“I woke you up! Don’t go back to sleep!”

“Yukiya.”

As I turn to leave, Mom, arms still stretched upward, stops me.

“Thanks for waking me.”

Her emotionless voice only grates my nerves more.

“…Shut up! Don’t say it like an afterthought!”

As usual, I hurl an insult and storm out of the bedroom.

I stomp down the stairs, venting my frustration.

Let’s be clear: I absolutely hate my mom, Hirose Chisetsu, whose thoughts I can never read. She’s short, always looks grumpy, barely talks, and did I mention she’s short? Dad says she used to be more expressive when I was a kid, but that old story means nothing to me now. All I know is she’s impossibly hard to understand. Why did Dad marry someone like her?

“Dad, why’d you marry Mom?”

I always investigate or ask when something bugs me. Back in the living room, I fire the question at Dad.

“Why? Because I love her.”

I know that. I’ve asked this double-digit times, and he always says the same thing. But today, I’m digging deeper.

“Do you have, like, a thing for little girls?”

Sounds bad asking my own dad, but given Mom’s appearance, it’s a fair question.

She’s the same age as Dad, 40 this year, but her face is super youthful. With her short height, she could pass for a middle school girl. If Dad loves someone like that, it’s not crazy to wonder if he’s got that kind of taste…

“Are you talking about Mom?”

“Yeah.”

“This might make her mad, but she hasn’t changed much since I fell for her.”

“Oh…”

Right, I was suspecting Dad of being a lolicon, but Mom’s been loli since Dad was a shota. Sounds weird, but you get the vibe.

“Then, what, you into big boobs or something?”

Despite her small, youthful frame, Mom’s got curves where it counts—a weirdly standout trait. With that look, she must’ve been popular. If she’d married someone else, Dad could’ve ended up with someone normal.

“Like I said, when I fell for her, Mom was flat as a board.”

“Oh…”

Forgot—Dad and Mom are childhood friends, super close since forever.

Damn it, why’d the childhood friend win? Dad’s good-looking; he must’ve been a total catch in school.

Wait, no way. Dad’s obsessively in love with Mom—nobody else stood a chance.

“You really love Mom, huh?”

No specific reason surfaces, just the same conclusion. Being close since childhood explains it, but staying that way and getting married? That’s rare.

“I love you just as much, Yuu-kun.”

Thanks, Dad. Love you too.

Chapter 51: Misunderstanding

I arrive at the classroom still buzzing from the morning’s high.

Breakfast is a family-of-three rule, so I have to face Mom whether I like it or not, but Dad’s words of love got me through. Tomorrow, I’ll step up and help even more.

“Morning, Yukiya. You seem chipper.”

As I set my bag on my desk, Aoyagi Uryu, Yourei High’s undisputed top heartthrob (self-awarded), calls out. Looks like he beat me to school today.

“Kukuku, you can tell? That’s the aura of happiness for you.”

“Aura? More like your face muscles.”

“Don’t get all practical, you romance-killer.”

“Says the guy who forgot his ant obsession from two weeks ago.”

What’s this guy on about? Even the girls would back off seeing Uryu like this—not great for me, though.

“So, something happen this morning?”

“Yeah, getting whispered sweet nothings is pretty nice.”

“What? You’ve got someone like that?”

“Rude. Of course I do.”

“…”

Uryu stares at me like a pigeon hit by a peashooter, mouth open, totally sloppy. What’s with this reaction? That’s way too insulting.

“…Sorry, it’s just surprising. Like, when did you start that kind of thing? I’ve got a ton of questions.”

Classic Uryu, with his grade-A incoherent Japanese. No clue what he’s saying.

What did he even mean by “That kind of thing?” Hmm, helping out my dad, aka papakatsu, is that what he meant? (T/N: MC is having a misunderstanding here, take note he’s clueless where it counts. Papakatsu is basically sugar daddy. I’ll explain more about why he came to the conclusion of papakatsu at the end. Also Uryu meant him having a girlfriend.)

“…So, how long’s it been going on?”

Uryu leans closer, lowering his voice so no one overhears.

Hmm, it’s not like I’m hiding anything so it should be fine, but are we even on the same page? It would suck if we weren’t talking about the same topic, guess I’ll clear things up.

“Hey, Uryu, we’re talking about papa-katsu, right?”

“Papa-katsu?! You’re doing papa-katsu?!”

“Ow! What’s with the yelling?!”

His sudden shout makes my ears ring.

What’s so shocking? Tons of families bond with their dads like that.

“Wait, hold up, let me process. Papa-katsu’s, like, that papa-katsu, right?”

“Duh, what else would it be?”

“Right, right. Just to be sure… which side are you on?”

“Hah? Side?”

“You know, like, are you the one serving or being served?”

“Serving, obviously.”

“Phew…”

Uryu lets out a weird noise, clutching his head and leaning back dramatically.

He’s really shocked. Is my papa-katsu that surprising?

“…I don’t get it. They even accept guys as partners now? No, with someone like you, cross-dressing might work? Wait, are you really that desperate for cash…?”

He was muttering to himself while looking at the ceiling. Huh, he looks so dead serious for some reason.

Got it—he’s shocked because he doesn’t do papa-katsu himself. Alright, if Uryu wants to bond with his dad, I’ll give him some pointers.

“Yukiya, can I ask you a bunch of stuff?”

“Go for it.”

Uryu plants himself in his chair, hands clasped at his mouth, staring at me intently.

Whoa, he’s super serious. Guess I’ll match his vibe.

“So, uh, when’d you start?”

“Consciously? Since starting middle school.”

“That’s early. At that age, you were…”

“Nah, I wish I’d started even sooner.”

“Sooner?! Even before middle school?!”

“Not weird, is it? I was always thinking about what I could do(for dad).”

“R-Right…”

Uryu wipes sweat from his forehead, flustered. Crap, did my early start intimidate him? Chill, Uryu, it’s about starting when you’re ready. It’s never too late—don’t hold back, let’s do papa-katsu!

“So uh, Yukiya, you’re having money problems?”

“Money? Well things were tight until recently.”

I splurged on lunch for Rando-dono and Ai-chan to look cool. But Natori Mayoi’s payment’s coming, so I’m set.

…Wait, what’s with that question? It’s kinda out of topic.

“Got it… You’ve been saving up bit by bit huh…”

“What’re we talking about?”

“Just thought you’ve been doing your best at papa-katsu just to save some money.”

“Huh?! I don’t get pocket money from papa-katsu!”

“What?! You’re doing it for free?!”

“Obviously!! Papa-katsu for cash is fake! Real love’s about thinking of the other person(my dad) without asking for anything back!”

“Damn, you’re intense, doing it volunteer-style(with a random guy)…”

“It’s not volunteering! It’s papa-katsu!!”

Ugh this guy, thinking he can get pocket money for helping his dad? That’s just a job with your dad as the boss. That’s not papa-katsu. At least I got that across.

“No money, just grand love. Your ‘client’ must be thrilled.”

“Client? You mean Dad?”

“Dad?! You call your client ‘Dad’?! Ultimate service spirit!!”

“Calm down, Uryu, what’s wrong with you?”

Uryu’s insanely hyped this morning, enough to make me worry.

But flip it, and he’s just fired up for papa-katsu. Heh, a new comrade’s always welcome.

“Alright, Uryu, you start papa-katsu tomorrow.”

“How did it come to that!? No way I’m doing that!”

“What?! Don’t tell me you’ll only do it for cash!”

“I wouldn’t do it even for money!!”

“Don’t mess around! You heard me out, so you’re joining me!”

“You’re the one messing around! In the first place, isn’t this a girl-only thing?!(Compensated dating)”

“You pre-war ghost! You think housework is still just women’s work?!”

“Housework?! You’re going to your client’s house?!”

“I said it’s not a client, it’s Dad!”

“Drop that already!”

“No way!! You’re acting as if Dad is a stranger to me!!”

“He is a stranger!”

“You sure are harsh aren’t you!? Calling a blood relative a stranger?!”

“Huh? Blood relative…?”

Something clicks, and Uryu halts our heated debate, repeating “blood relative” over and over. I’m fed up with his nonsense—let’s hear his excuse.

Watching him think hard, he eventually gives me a strained smile.

“…Yukiya, what were we talking about?”

“Papa-katsu, obviously.”

“Roughly, what’s that mean?”

“Helping out your hardworking (real) dad.”

“…Yeah… You’re the one at fault again…”

“Huh?”

“You’re always so damn confusing!!”

※

And that’s when we finally realized we weren’t on the same page.

T/N: To clarify the papakatsu part, this “Helping out dad” is  written like this in romaji. “Tou-san wo tetsudai katsudo”

Now Tou-san is a way of calling one’s dad/father in japanese. Another way is(this is native btw) Papa. They don’t use the english word Dad of course, nor father, that’s a english only thing, but they do use Papa. Now japanese people like shortening phrases, I mean look at those long ass japanese anime titles that gets shortened, like toradora. Japanese people like taking japanese characters out of a long ass phrase then combining them, usually first character of each word.  In this case, it was the Tou-san and katsu on katsudo, but taking the characters tou and katsu would make it sound like tonkatsu, which is weird, so they try to find an alternative word, in this case, Papa, therefore papa-katsu.

Chapter 52: Deciding the Sports Event

“Yukiya, you really need to stop doing that.”

After sorting out our misunderstanding, Uryu lets out a heavy sigh, looking drained.

“Why? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It’s 100% your fault. Who in the world would use the word ‘papa-katsu’ to refer to ‘filial-piety’?”

“Me, the center of the universe. In the first place, I didn’t even know ‘papa-katsu’ was a term.”(T/N: See, he doesn’t know about it.)

“It’s been on TV news, you know.”

“Don’t know what I don’t know. My papa-katsu is the real papa-katsu.”

“Ugh, fine. I get it—your dad love is intense.”

Seeing Uryu cross his arms, genuinely surprised, I can’t help but frown.

“Nah, it’s normal in my opinion.”

“No way it’s normal. My family’s not bad, but it’s not like we’re super tight either.”

“Really?”

“We don’t spend much time together, so there’s not much chance to bond.”

“Is that how it is?”

Hearing about Uryu’s family makes me realize my own is kinda weird. I’m super close with Dad, but Mom and I are basically estranged. Maybe she just doesn’t care about me.

“Man, it’s still morning and I’m already wiped, and we’ve got an important decision coming up.”

Uryu stretches his arms up, swaying side to side, grumbling.

“Important decision?”

“Didn’t the teacher mention it at yesterday’s homeroom? You were listening, right?”

Yesterday’s homeroom? I was busy perfecting a paper airplane for maximum flight distance. Point is, I heard nothing.

“They said we’re deciding the sports festival event during morning homeroom, so think about it for a day. That face says you haven’t heard a speck of that.”

“Sports festival? That’s not really a big deal.”

I thought it was something major, but it’s just a minor school event. We’d be better off debating how to make paper airplanes fly better. By the way, I’m skeptical about elevators—do they really help?

“Come on, show some enthusiasm for school events. You participated last year, didn’t you?”

“Nah, I broke my left arm, so I skipped it.”

“Oh, right. You were super low-key then, so it didn’t click.”

I’m not exactly high-profile now, you know? If you didn’t keep dragging me into stuff, I’d be living a quiet, peaceful life.

“What was last year’s event, anyway?”

“Boys did basketball, girls did volleyball.”

Now I remember—Kirita Akari wrote in her unedited letter that she fell for Uryu watching him play basketball. So, this year’s probably not basketball.

“What’re the options?”

“They mentioned soccer, softball, basketball, volleyball, and sepak takraw.”

“Sepak… takraw?”

The unfamiliar term throws my brain for a loop.

Sepak takraw’s like volleyball but with feet, right? It feels so out of place in this lineup. Sounds way harder than soccer—can we even play a proper match?

“By the way, sepak takraw hasn’t been picked in nearly 25 years. It’s basically an honorary option.”

Cut it from the list already. Three grades, 25 years—that’s 75 chances with no results. Time to consider firing it. Bet there’s a teacher obsessed with it.

“Morning, folks. A bit early, but let’s start homeroom.”

As I’m thinking “honorary option” means it’s practically gone, our homeroom teacher, Hasegawa-sensei, strolls in wearing a white lab coat. His messy hair and tiny goatee lack polish, but he’s let my 14 tardies slide, so he’s a stellar teacher in my book.

“Like I said yesterday, we’re deciding our class’s pick for the sports festival now. Misono, take it from here.”

Yawning widely, he slumps into a teacher’s chair and closes his eyes. Yup, he’s planning to nap.

Misono Izumo, tapped for the job, ignores him and moves to the front. Two years of dealing with him—she’s used to it.

“Okay! We’re short on time, so let’s split into boys and girls to pick events.”

Izumo glances at Uryu, looking troubled.

“Can I leave the boys’ discussion to you, Aoyagi-kun?”

Makes sense—coordinating both groups in a short time is tough. Uryu’s a safe bet; he handles everything smoothly.

“Got it, I’m on it.”

“Thanks. Deciding during homeroom is tight on time…”

“Time’s no issue. First period’s my class.”

“Sensei, be quiet.”

“Yes, sorry.”

Not exactly a trustworthy teacher move, but outside lessons, Hasegawa-sensei’s super laid-back and sloppy, so Izumo probably doesn’t want him butting in. It’s us students who’ll suffer if this drags into first period.

“By the way, other classes already decided. Girls have two votes for softball, two for basketball, one for volleyball.”

Hasegawa-sensei’s add-on stirs the room. So, girls voting for soccer or sepak takraw won’t matter much—softball or basketball locks it in, volleyball means a three-way draw. Helpful for speeding things up, but why’re other classes done already?

“…Sensei?”

“What’s up, Misono?”

“Why’ve other classes decided?”

Izumo’s sharp glare voices my own question. Stop it—you’re making him sweat buckets. Don’t stare so menacingly.

“…Who knows?”

“My guess: you were supposed to announce it in yesterday’s morning homeroom and decide by end-of-day, right?”

“…”

“That’s why other classes are done. Ours isn’t. Because we only got told at yesterday’s homeroom.”

“…”

“Sensei, say something.”

“Sorry, forgot to mention in morning homeroom.”

“Ugh, just say that from the start. Makes it sound like our class is slacking.”

“Right, my bad.”

Laughter ripples through the room at this student-teacher role reversal. A sloppy teacher and a sharp class rep balance out, but Izumo’s got a heavy load.

“Sorry to interrupt. What’s the boys’ situation?”

Uryu jumps in to move things along. Right, we haven’t heard the boys’ votes—how’re they split?

“Oh, yeah, got sidetracked. Boys are wild—five classes, one vote each, totally up to us to pick which event to go to, as if we were the deciders from the start.”

Sepak takraw-san!?