When I Picked Up A Stunningly Gorgeous Downer-Type Beauty In Front Of The Entrance. - Chapter 42: The first person I ever let into my room was my neighbor's sister. Sajou Hitori’s POV

The first person I ever let into my room was my neighbor’s sister.

Sajou Hitori’s POV

Luckily, that woman… My mother was absent.

She usually goes out in the evening and comes back in the morning. Or sometimes, she doesn’t come back at all.

It’s about fifty-fifty, so not being around in the morning is common.

It’s like flipping a coin. Feeling like I’ve won a bet, I heave a sigh of relief.

I couldn’t bring myself to invite someone, especially Rihito’s sister, into my room when she’s around. There’s a murky feeling, a mix of dislike and embarrassment, about being seen.

Perhaps because that woman often brings people, particularly men, into the living room, it’s always tidy. There’s no sense of daily life, like a model room. On the contrary, if it were her room, it would probably be overflowing with things. Just thinking about it makes a headache flare up.

In the center of the living room.

A tablecloth is spread out, and on the stylish table adorned with artificial flowers, there’s a small purse with money and a memo pad shaped like a rabbit.

You don’t need to see what’s written on the memo. It’s probably an apology and a note saying she bought food. It’s always the same.

She never really intends to eat together anyway. I grumble inwardly.

But even if she were to invite me to eat together, which is unlikely, I’d refuse, but I hate the way she behaves as if she’s trying to gauge my mood.

Above all, I despise my mother, who sells herself to men for money.

The money she earns by selling herself to men is dirty.

But what I hate most is being supported by the money she got while being embraced by a man she doesn’t even know, knowing that. It makes me feel nauseous, as if the revulsion is rising from the pit of my stomach to my throat. It’s sickening.

I hate my mother who sells herself to men for money.

The money I live off, earned by her selling herself, is the dirtiest.

I hate myself the most, living off that dirty money.

I despise myself.

I’ve thought about killing myself countless times.

But in the end, the only time I ever tried to do it was on the day I met Rihito, and only once since then.

Since then, my desire for death has diminished along with the sense of emptiness, and now I no longer have suicidal thoughts.

What’s left is the hatred towards my mother and money… my face flushes.

“… Maybe I should get a part-time job.”

I’ve become a high school student. There are opportunities to work.

If I do that, I can earn my own living expenses, and I won’t have to be supported by that woman anymore.

Maybe I can leave this house.

In the past, I wouldn’t have bothered to live if there was no reason, but now it’s different.

My reason for living is Rihito.

“… The problem is, I’ll have less time to see Rihito.”

That’s troubling. Very troubling.

Even now, I haven’t seen him for a month, and if I start a part-time job, I’ll be even less likely to see him.

It’s counterproductive to sacrifice the meaning of my life to earn a living. It’s meaningless.

But on the other hand, I don’t want to be supported by that woman forever. If there’s a way out, I want to leave this place as soon as possible.

At least, something.

If there were something solid connecting Rihito and me.

I could endure the times when we couldn’t meet.

With that thought in mind, I suddenly voiced a wish.

“If only we could live together…”

As soon as those excited words left my lips, my face felt like it was on fire. Ugh…

Even though I know it won’t be much different from now, is it a difference in perception? Embarrassment welled up inside me all of a sudden.

Well, there is, or rather, it seemed like an ideal.

“See you later.” “Welcome back.” Yeah, that would be nice.

But the rational part of me denies it.

After all, I’ve been staying over almost every day, indulging myself. It would be shameless of me to suggest it myself.

Above all, wouldn’t it be too similar to that woman I hate, selling herself to men and being supported by them? Thinking that, my heart, which was filled with excitement, suddenly turned as cold as ice water.

“Nee-san?”

I’m startled by Rihito’s sister’s voice coming from the entrance.

Come to think of it, I left her waiting.

I hurried back to the entrance, apologizing and showing her to my room.

Since it’s the first time I’ve ever invited someone into my home, all sorts of unnecessary thoughts were racing through my mind. I have to forget about them now and press my thumb firmly against the creased brow.

“I’m not bothered at all.”

She said so, and indeed, she seemed not to mind at all, despite being kept waiting. Without showing any sign of annoyance, she followed me into my room.

Perhaps, despite appearances, we share some broad-mindedness. Finding this common ground with Rihito made me smile, if only a little.

My room is, how should I put it, extremely simple. Some might even call it barren.

There are no girly decorations or anything of the sort.

Just a sturdy black pipe bed and a low table.

And in the corner, there are only a school bag and some handouts I brought back. When Rihito and I go to school, we leave our textbooks in the school lockers, so even those are in minimal supply.

The rest is stored away in the built-in closet, so I don’t really have many belongings.

It’s not that I’m into decluttering or minimalism.

It’s just that I never really had any desire for possessions… or rather, I never found anything interesting enough to own, so I just don’t have much stuff. Lately, I’ve started to want things, but they’re mostly kitchen supplies. The things in my room haven’t increased.

Even with kitchen supplies, it’s not that I wanted them, but more like I needed them or… for Rihito… it’s embarrassing to think about. It’s a delicate line between having an increased desire for possessions and not.

“Wow. So this is your room, huh?”