A Fool’s Move

“Damn it… my ‘Heart-Pounding Every Day! Living Together With a Sexy Older Woman Plan!’…”

Around noon, I collapsed alone in the living room, something my old place hadn’t even had.

After surviving the hectic morning, it suddenly hit me.

I couldn’t bring women over to this house now that I lived here with Yūha.

My dream of a wildly lewd daily life with some busty older woman had disappeared while remaining nothing more than a dream.

At this point, the dating app was nothing more than decoration on my home screen.

“If I’d known it would turn out like this… I never would’ve paid for it.”

I planted my hands on the flooring and hung my head in sorrow.

The app cost three thousand yen a month, and I had sunk nine thousand yen into it.

A full three months.

I had started in April, so I still had another month left.

It was all because the app had said at the beginning, ‘You need at least this much time to get a girlfriend!’

It didn’t help that buying more months made it cheaper.

I had been completely suckered.

“You guys should’ve accounted for the possibility that someone might suddenly start living with his stepsister halfway through, damn it…”

Saying it out loud made it sound ridiculous.

Who would ever account for something like that?

If I slipped up and posted that on social media, I’d probably get flamed into oblivion and have my address exposed.

Well, not that I’d ever actually matched with a sexy older woman in the first place.

No, seriously, thank God.

Thank God this happened before I found one.

Otherwise, even if Yūha had been in trouble, I might not have been able to do anything about it.

…I wanna cry.

Bearing permanent wounds in several different directions, I got up and headed to the kitchen.

As usual, I boiled some cheap instant ramen.

Since Yūha would be here for dinner, I needed to make something decent tonight.

…Though maybe she would make it.

I finished the ramen, washed the dishes, and returned to my room.

Normally, I would have rested for a while.

But starting today, I couldn’t afford to do that.

I moved my laptop aside and cleared some space.

I placed a textbook on the desk and opened a brand-new notebook.

Then I idly twirled a mechanical pencil between my fingers, something I had barely used since graduating high school.

With a hundred thousand yen coming in every month, our household finances should stabilize for the time being.

…That was the optimistic way of looking at it.

I had extorted the money from them, sure, but judging by how things looked, it was only a matter of time before one of them ruined their health.

They might give up on Yūha and suddenly stop sending money altogether.

Two months at the shortest.

Six months at the longest.

Something like that.

After that, I would have to support everything on my own.

Two people’s lives.

“The future’s pitch-black, same as ever.”

How far did I have to go before this endless anxiety and despair finally cleared away?

The more I thought about it, the more my will to move forward was worn down.

A sense of helplessness enveloped my entire body.

A dry laugh escaped me.

Normally, this was where I would have given up.

I would have accepted everything and endured it, like waiting for a storm to pass.

But I wasn’t alone anymore.

I’ll do my best.

The clock wound back a little, and the scene shifted to the career guidance room.

Yūha sat across from Kumagai-sensei, the enormous man who also served as the advisor for the kendo club, shrinking into herself as much as humanly possible.

His heavily muscled body radiated pressure, his stern face looked like that of a warrior, and his low voice seemed capable of shaking the ground.

Rumor had it that he was frightening enough to make babies cry from a hundred meters away.

The giant opened his mouth and muttered in a voice like distant thunder.

“I’m frustrated.”

“…Yes.”

Yūha answered despite having no idea what he meant.

“Sanjō—your brother was an excellent student. I’ve seen many students over the years, but children with as much potential as him are exceedingly rare.”

“Um… excuse me.”

“What is it?”

“Did Rokurō say something to you?”

Kumagai-sensei froze.

Then his movements suddenly became strangely unnatural.

“He said nothing to me. Besides, in a school with this many students, there is no reason I would know someone who graduated two years ago, had enough ability to enter a prestigious university, yet neither went to university nor found employment!”

“You were praising him like crazy just a second ago!”

“Ghk…”

His knowledge was astonishingly thorough.

If anything, no, without even exaggerating, Kumagai probably knew more about Rokurō’s last two years than Yūha did.

Kumagai-sensei made a sour face and lowered his voice.

Without realizing it, Yūha also leaned in as though listening to a secret.

“Between you and me, he asked me to help you.”

“…Can I still make it?”

Yūha had already guessed from everything that had happened that Rokurō had been making arrangements behind the scenes.

What surprised her was the way Kumagai-sensei had phrased it.

The large man nodded firmly.

“There’s no room to spare, but you haven’t missed enough to make graduation impossible. I’ll help you catch up with your studies. Granted, I can only teach you English, but I can speak with the teachers for your other subjects as well.”

“Thank goodness…”

Relief flooded through her, and she let out a long, deep breath.

“You have a good brother.”

Yūha nodded.

“…………Yes.”

She bit down hard on her lip, holding back what threatened to spill out.

Again.

Rokurō again.

Why?

Why did he care about her this much?

She didn’t understand.

It simply felt so warm that she could have started crying at any moment.

She took a deep breath and forced the emotion rising inside her back down.

Then, in a voice that still trembled but carried strength, the girl said,

“I’ll work hard. Please help me.”

She no longer thought the giant man in front of her was frightening.

Rokurō had started asking Kumagai questions about English shortly after entering his second year of high school.

Kumagai had never actually taught his class, and very few students approached him in the first place.

So at first, he wondered whether Rokurō had mistaken him for someone else.

But Rokurō asked,

“Kumagai-sensei, you’re an English teacher, right?”

“Why me? There are other teachers.”

“You’re the easiest to understand, Kumagai-sensei. You filled in for our class the other day, remember? That’s when I realized it.”

“I see…”

No one had ever said anything like that to him before.

Half dumbfounded, Kumagai nevertheless accepted Rokurō’s reasoning.

He had seen students ask other teachers questions instead of the teacher responsible for their class.

But he had never imagined the opposite happening.

Because of his intimidating appearance, students had always kept their distance from him.

“So, what do you want to know?”

“It’s about this long reading passage… I can’t figure out what this demonstrative refers to here.”

“You’re already working on past exam questions?”

“…Should I be focusing more on the basics?”

The boy looked away awkwardly.

Kumagai asked,

“What was your ranking on the last test?”

“Seventh in English.”

“Then there’s no problem. If you’re seventh at this school, your fundamentals are more than sufficient. Exposing yourself to difficult questions now is a good idea.”

He found Rokurō interesting.

Kumagai had known any number of children who could be described as obsessive studiers.

The students who were better at academics than Rokurō were typical examples.

They had been trained from childhood to make studying a habit.

But Rokurō was different.

As they talked, Kumagai learned that he hadn’t seriously started studying until his third year of middle school.

He had never attended cram school, and he had developed his own methods of studying.

Even more unusual was how little he cared about his ranking.

He had naturally been happy when he took first place, but even then, his reaction was subdued compared to the other students.

“I think studying is a really effective way to survive.”

Rokurō had said that once.

At seventeen, while other students poured their time into competing over rankings or romance, that boy was searching for a way to stay alive.

This is the kind of person who will accomplish something great someday.

At some point, Kumagai began placing extraordinary expectations on Rokurō.

Their relationship became almost that of master and student, and they had begun discussing his university choices well in advance.

Watching Rokurō steadily improve his grades made Kumagai as happy as if they were his own.

By his third year, everyone said his acceptance into his preferred university was practically assured, and Rokurō’s name began coming up frequently in the faculty room.

Perhaps inspired by him, more students also began approaching Kumagai with questions.

Everything was going smoothly.

That was what Kumagai had believed.

“I can’t go to university anymore.”

He would never forget it.

December.

One day, just before the first stage of the entrance examinations, the paths of Kumagai and his student came to an abrupt end.

Rokurō said it with an oddly mature expression and a half-smile.

His eyes had already lost all will, as though telling Kumagai he had gone beyond sadness and could do nothing but laugh.

There had only been a handful of things in Kumagai’s life that frustrated him that badly.

At the very least, it was the first time he had ever felt such unbearable pain over something that had happened to someone other than himself.

“I’m sorry. You did so much for me, and I ended up wasting all of it.”

“It wasn’t wasted.”

Kumagai knew those were pretty words.

Even so, he desperately forced them out.

“None of your effort was wasted. Someday, without fail, there will come a time when it becomes your strength.”

So please don’t apologize.

Kumagai practically begged him.

But Rokurō only smiled.

He had probably stopped crying long ago.

Perhaps his life had taught him that tears accomplished nothing.

And so—

When Rokurō appeared before him again, Kumagai decided he would grant his request.

He immediately agreed to help Yūha.

As someone in charge of student guidance, it was easy for him to approach a student who had stopped attending school.

And because Kumagai had worked at this high school for a long time, it was also easy for him to speak with the other teachers.

He had thought that was Rokurō’s only request.

But it wasn’t.

There was one other thing Rokurō had asked of him.

“There are English qualifications that can help you get work, right? If there’s a good one, could you tell me about it?”

He was trying to pick up the effort he had abandoned two years ago.

There was a clear determination in him to use it to make a living.

Kumagai hoped that the “someday” he had spoken of had finally arrived.

He prayed that it had.