The Villainous Uncle in the Adult Game Gets Unusually High Praise from the Heroines - Chapter 17

The Kongo family was quite lenient with their daughters. No, perhaps ‘lenient’ wasn’t quite the right term. ‘Negligent’ might be more accurate, and Yo-chan and I were left alone for completely opposite reasons.

Yo-chan wasn’t interfered with by our parents simply because she was more than excellent enough without it—smarter and stronger than anyone else. 

Our parents trusted Yo-chan because of this, and that was precisely why they turned a blind eye to whatever she did. 

Well, Yo-chan had never done anything dangerous or wrong anyway. She always kept true to her curfew, and always ranked first in tests. She maintained excellent grades with an expressionless face, as if it was merely her duty to do so.

And I, Asahi, was ignored by our parents simply because I was a failure—more inferior and duller than anyone else. 

Our parents had half given up on me, and that was why they turned a blind eye to whatever I did as well. Failure was expected, though I understood better than anyone that I had no talent, so I never made any major mistakes.

“…Yo-chan.”

And today, Yo-chan was out of the house on business. This was rare. She usually stayed home studying on holidays, or went to the library. 

But today, she left the house saying she was going to visit a “friend”. Impossible. That she, who was excellent but neglected interpersonal relationships, would have a “friend”. IMPOSSIBLE.

“…”

Ah, this was bad. I shouldn’t think like this. It was a wonderful thing that Yo-chan had a “friend”, but still.

“…I’ll contact senpai.”

Unable to bear it anymore, I took out my smartphone to contact my senpai. However, no matter how long I waited, the call wouldn’t connect, and I sighed and tossed my phone onto the bed. Senpai. SENPAI. Someone so similar to me. That was precisely why I was so drawn to him.

This surely wasn’t love. It was something much, much more nasty.

*****

“Hey, Yozuki-chan!”

I called out to the figure walking leisurely ahead. She slowly turned around, and gave me a confused look as I ran up to her.

“…Yes?”

“Hah, hah… You, you forgot something”

“Eh…”

When I pulled the notebook out of my bag, Yozuki-chan let out an involuntary “ah”. Then, giving me a testing look, she asked, “So, you came to deliver this?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“There was no need for you to go out of your way to deliver it. If anything, it would make more sense for Tendo-senpai to bring it to me.”

“Ah, well. You see, I had a personal reason.”

Hearing this, she made a slightly disappointed expression.

“…I thought so. So, what ulterior motive made you run all the way here?”

“I wanted to hear about how Sakurako-chan is doing at school from you.”

“In that case, you could have asked Hinomoto-senpai— Ah, no. I see.”

She nodded as if understanding something. Then she muttered under her breath, so quietly I could barely hear, “Really, so this is why…”

What did she mean by “this is why”? It really made me curious. She let out a sigh and looked at me with half-closed eyes.

“One coffee.”

“Hm?”

“Buy me one coffee. Then I’ll talk with you for two minutes.”

“What do you mean…”

“Yes?”

“…No, never mind.”

She was merciless, or rather, fearless in a bad way. I swallowed those words, knowing they would probably anger her. We moved to a nearby park, where I handed the coffee I’d bought to Yozuki-chan as she sat on a bench.

“Tendo-senpai is—” 

“Yes?”

“—Obviously a very capable person. Someone who excels in both academics and athletics. That’s why people keep their distance. Or rather, it’s the opposite.”

“Opposite?”

“I think Tendo-senpai is the one keeping her distance.”

“That’s the complete opposite of me,” she added, then suddenly caught herself and said, “No, it’s nothing. Please forget what I just said.”

Naturally, I wouldn’t do that. Though I desperately wanted to talk about Sakurako-chan, given the time limit she’d set, that would have to be secondary. For now, let’s focus on talking about Yozuki-chan.

“You’re not very good with people, are you, Yozuki-chan?”

“That’s… well, maybe. That’s irrelevant, however, and not what we’re here to discuss.”

“True. But if you’re that type of person, I wonder if your friendship started because Sakurako-chan approached you first?”

“…That’s right,” she said reluctantly.

“I’m very grateful for that, but as I said before, that’s not relevant right now.”

“True, it might not be relevant, but I was just thinking, could it be that you have quite a low self-esteem, Yozuki-chan?”

“…”

She glared at me without reservation, as if appraising me.

“Why should you care about someone like me?”

“This is an adult’s opinion, but saying ‘someone like me’ isn’t very good, you know.”

“An adult, huh?”

This time, she didn’t even try to hide her irritation as she glared at me.

“Adults are so selfish. Speaking down from an unreachable position, acting like they’re protecting us. Well, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“That stings to hear. But at the same time, I feel sorry towards you.”

“Why—”

“It’s an adult’s responsibility that you’ve come to think that’s what adults are like. So I suppose I share some of that responsibility too, don’t I?”

“That’s…?”

She seemed a bit confused. Probably struggling with how the point of discussion had shifted slightly.

“Adults are indeed selfish creatures. After all, unlike children, they can do as they please. But that’s precisely why they freely worry about children and want to help them.”

“That’s…”

“You know, Yozuki-chan, as we’ve been talking, it feels like you’ve given up on yourself. And on others too. That’s probably because you’re smart, and that’s exactly why I’m worried.”

“…”

Hearing this, she closed her eyes once, then opened them with a sigh.

“Two minutes.”

“Hm?”

“Two minutes have passed. Our conversation is over.”

“Ah—”

Had that much time passed already? That was quite quick. I wanted to talk with her a bit more. The conversation had barely reached anywhere meaningful.

As I thought this, she wrote something in her notebook, tore out a page, and held it out to me.

“What’s this?”

“My email address.”

“…Why?”

“This conversation was, at least, meaningful.”

She stood up and turned her back to me.

“I pray our next conversation will be meaningful too.”

Did that mean it was okay for me to contact her? …Really? Given her personality, it seemed unlikely she’d give her contact information to an adult so readily. Was there some other factor at play? Before I could ask about these thoughts, she started walking away from the scene.

How childish, I thought. Overall, that was the impression I got from those two minutes.