"You can't just laze around all d—" she gasped. "H-Hachiman, is that a girl sleeping in your room?!"
Mom's close-ranged shout immediately broke me out of my sleep inertia and the gears in my brain began turning at rapid rates. It took me two seconds tops to verify my current situation, and, as I peered through those incredulous and wide eyes of hers behind those half-rimmed glasses, I can't help but long for a meteor to strike me down at this instant.
Because . . .
. . . she was staring straight at the lustrously beautiful girl dozing under the thick and comfy sheets of my bed.
Oh fuck.
"I — I swear, mom! It's not what it looks like!"
"Hikigaya-san," nodded my supervisor. "Enjoy the holiday. Autumnal Equinox Day approaches after your off-day tomorrow, after all."
"Thanks, Muimi-san."
After work, I headed straight for the nearby train station and hopped off of Keisei Makuhari Station to amble home. I then breathed a relaxed sigh of relief, and relished in the cool breeze of Spring's late afternoon wind.
Shaking my head slightly, I smiled at the sight of our lovely abode and sauntered up the door, slipping the key from my right pocket then sliding it up the lock. A faint click echoed up my ears, before I turned the door knob; a rattling sound making itself known as I walked in. Then, as if to grace me of all my lassitude, a certain and cute gray cat came to greet me.
"Meooow."
"Oh, Kamakura-chan, hello~."
Placing my shoes onto the genkan, I— . . . hm? Those shoes . . . ? I don't recognize them. There were three sets of shoes here. First off, the big pair obviously belongs to Hachiman, with the smallest being discernible as Komachi's . . . but whose is this other set? My husband's are relatively the same size as Hachiman's . . .
"Mom~! You're home early," greeted Komachi, as she neared me jovially and gave a hug.
"Mhm . . . aaaah. I'm so tired." I blinked down at the floor. "By the way, Komachi . . . did you buy a new set of shoes?"
It can't be her friends', can't it? She doesn't invite anyone home at all . . . it can't be Hachiman either considering how he sometimes monologues about how "friends are but parasites in the life fraught with constant social degradation and communal hierarchies" or something like that.
"Huh? Where?"
Following my gaze, she stared down at the shoes then squealed a very big grin. Oh, how you remind me of myself in the younger days, Komachi . . .
"I — I can't believe I missed . . . kyaaaaaa~!"
"What's wrong?"
"N-nothing, mom! You'll see later!" she smirked.
Ah, she's even just as mischievous as I used to be . . .
Well, whatever this is about . . . Hachiman probably just bought her a new pair. Ah, my son is finally growing up. Oh, well, I don't have much time to care about minuscule things right now. I need to rest . . . Fatigue truly is a powerful adversary.
"Don't worry about Onii-chan, mkay? He's probably dozing off again."
"Okay."
With an easy breath, I began trudging onwards to the living room with Kamakura-chan and Komachi hot on my tail. Once I arrived, I relaxed at the softness emanating from the sofa after sitting down, and rested my head at the tip of the backrest.
"Home at last . . . "
Tap Tap Tap
But, then, I felt an odd sensation . . . like a finger poking my cheeks—!
"E-eh?"
"Mom~! Dinner's ready!"
"Oh . . . sorry, Komachi. I didn't mean to sleep for so long."
"It's okay! I've been having a really good cooking teacher lately, you knowwww?"
A cooking teacher?
"Is it one of your new friends?"
"Yup! Well, not really new . . . but that's basically the gist of it."
Sitting up with a yawn, I stretched my neck and bits of my joints—letting me wake up from the slumber I previously held. How pitiful, that must've been, letting your own daughter cook for you when you were already here. This certainly is a first. Ahhh, I'll just make breakfast tomorrow. Komachi wouldn't mind, and I'm sure Hachiman still hates his tomatoes.
"You're really becoming responsible lately, Komachi."
"Mm, hee-hee."
How cute. You truly take after your own mother.
"How was school, honey?"
"Mooom~. Don't call me that anymore!" she huffed, pouting. "I'm grown up now, in high school!"
"Impossible! You are still my dear baby Komachi."
"Eugh . . . sometimes, you act a lot like Onii-chan, you know. And I always thought he took after dad . . ."
"Fufu . . . Well, I'll call your older brother now. It's the least I can do," stated I, as I stood up and smiled. I noticed earlier that Hachiman hasn't come down yet. "He's still in his room, eh?"
She grinned brightly and nodded, donning again that puckish smirk.
"Watch out, mom . . . he might still be asleep. I bet he got real comfortable up there."
"Oh? That's good. Your brother's been having better grades lately, after all. He must be studying a lot. I did check the guardian summaries emailed to me. I saw that he scored 33/35 on the recent Mathematics quiz."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she then began to push me lightly. "Now go on, mom!"
"Such energy . . . !"
0—✸—0
Knock knock
"Hachiman? It's dinnertime," I called out.
He must be really tired to be still asleep for such a long time. Usually, he goes down to drink that can of dreaded coffee that he and his father relishes at exactly 6 PM.
I knocked on the door once again with stronger fervor.
"Hachiman?"
Then, I heard my most desired response. An annoyed grunt. How typical. Then, I heard a reverberating thud. So he must've somehow rolled on his bed and fell to the floor, hm? Good. That's phase 2 of waking up my son. Then . . . phase 3 is when he gets up and starts plodding his way to his door as if he were fetching heavy baskets of bricks like a Babylonian slave.
Thankfully, that response wasn't too far off as sounds of heavy footsteps neared the door. I heard his fingers clunkily trying to grasp the rattling door knob, and, after a while, he managed to open it, unlocking and opening his door, allowing me to view the slight darkness of his room.
"Dinner's ready."
"Mom?" he lethargically gazed at me. "You're home early."
I sighed. "You can't just laze around all d— . . . "
Wait a second.
No, wait another second.
What is that?
What is that lump of midnight black resting at your pillow?
You know, that black substance sticking onto the extremely pretty face of a—oh.
I gasped. "H-Hachiman, is that a girl sleeping in your room?!"
It took 6 seconds in total. First, he looked at me dumbfoundedly. Then, he dawdled his eyes upward to think. After that, his eyes widened.
Like a literal deer caught in headlights.
I could feel it, that brain of his—finally stirring up from the laziness of waking up. He first stepped back, then stepped before him once again—before bobbing his head, his eyes increasingly getting wider. He looked at the sleeping girl, then back at me. Three times. I always thought that those dead eyes of his were a genetic problem—but it appears that it was simply a trick of his eyelids being too heavy—covering the top portion of his irises and imitating a creepy feel. Regardless, I could still sense it. Those trembling hands, nervous facial movements, and especially that restless right leg of his. He stared back at the bed, his mouth forming a momentary goofy grin before reverting back to the anxious expression of his as he realized I was still here.
" . . . "
And yes. I was still here.
And yes again. I'm finally retaining my bearings.
Because, I realized. The root of the extra pair of shoes finally revealed itself.
What were you doing here, my dear baby Hachiman? That thick blanket covering that exquisitely pretty girl in your bed is as high as her cheeks. Is she unclothed beneath that? What did you do to her?
"I — I swear, mom! It's not what it looks like!"
"Oh? You know, Hachiman, that's usually what they say."
"N-no, she's fully clothed!"
"Hachiman, I don't condone kidnapping in this household."
"Why the hell is that the first thing that registers in your brain?!"
Are you calling me crazy?!
"Hikigaya-kun?" A soft voice interrupted. And, the both of us looked back. "What's . . . happening . . . ?"
I forced my way in, tapping the switch and turning on the lights. Hachiman, how could you kidnap such a lovely—ah.
Now that the lights were on, I could finally peer at her countenance. And it certainly wasn't farfetched to call her winsome and prepossessing. No wonder you kidnapped her, Hachiman. If I were in your place, I would too.
Bedazzled, I motioned to speak, yet no words could exit my mouth. I was speechless. Flabbergasted, even.
But, then, her eyes also widened, immediately sitting up straight and letting the blanket fall down—displaying the neat garb of a fuzzy pink shirt with the image of a cat printed on it. It seems like she realized her current predicament, as her gaze kept switching between Hachiman and I. But, then, a few moments later, she stood up on her socked feet with a fierce expression, and bowed.
"Greetings, honored mother. I am Yukinoshita Yukino, the p-partner . . . of your son. I apologize for . . . intruding."
. . .
. . .
. . .
PARTNER?! WHAT DID YOU SAY?! Wait . . . maybe she's his school project partner? What if . . . no, he doesn't invite mere acquaintances . . . if it's otherwise, then, doesn't that mean that she's his . . . GIRLFRIEND?! H — HACHIMAN! My sweet big baby Hachiman has a girlfriend?! WHAT?! NO! Impossible! This is preposterous! A ludicrous idea! B-but she's . . .
"S-sorry . . . what did you say your name was again?"
She tilted her head in confusion before registering my question, now standing up straight as she smiled.
"Yukinoshita Yukino, Hikigaya-san."
. . .
. . .
. . .
A YUKINOSHITA IS IN OUR HOUSEHOLD?! AND THEIR YOUNGEST DAUGHTER, TOO?! I've seen her on television quite a lot. She's usually mentioned during business talks! N-no! I'm sure there's more than one person named the same way, right? She can't be the daughter of an individual part of the Chiba Prefectural Diet, right? Right?!
I coughed. "M-my apologies. I'm simply surprised, is all . . . " Then, I bowed, introducing myself.
"Komachi-san, your cooking has gotten much better lately."
"Of course, Yukino-nee-san!" my daughter responded. "You're a really great teacher, after all!"
Yukinoshita Yukino smiled sweetly, before nodding. "If that were the case . . . then perhaps I'd have been able to teach Yuigahama-san a few recipes."
"Ohhh~! Don't mind Yui-san, she's more of a kinesthetic learner that gets better while cooking with her other friends."
"I suppose so."
This was the conversation that occurred just now during dinner. Sitting to my left was Komachi, and sitting before me was Hachiman—in his typical gloomy (yet somehow timorous) expression. Beside him sat his . . . partner, whom I was secretly glaring at. Yet . . . even Kamakura-chan seemed to be getting along with her, as he lazed around cutely on her lap.
You devious fiend! Not only have you captivated my one and only son, you have also stolen the hearts of my cute daughter and our lovely cat! Even so, I won't let you take our Hachiman! You have to prove yourself first! Even if you're already together for 5 months!
Apparently, the intention behind her unexpected and obviously inadvertent sojourn was that she wanted to congratulate Hachiman for achieving the 2 mistakes in that Math test, and the other perfect marking for his Science test—which I wasn't aware of just yet. Yukinoshita-san cooked him snacks earlier and watched a movie with him on his laptop, but one thing led to another and it ended up with them 'providentially' sleeping on the same bed.
No. It was no accident, it must've been a deliberate scheme!
I was about to speak when we all heard the door rattle open, accompanied by a tetchy yet insouciant grunt that resounded around. There was only one person residing here (other than my son) who does that—and it was the white-collared salaryman I came to love. My dear husband.
"Oh? Why doesn't Kamakura ever greet m—"
His speech immediately halted when his eyes ran over the girl that sat beside my son.
"Hey, hey, dad! Eat with us, I made the food!"
"Hello, dear."
"Yo, pops."
My husband tripped over his words as he gazed between both Hachiman and his . . . partner.
"H-Hachiman . . . i-is that . . . "
His benumb and confounded face was totally perspicuous. After all, who wouldn't gawk at the sight?
Now that her hair has been groomed, she was more recognizable prior to earlier. This was the daughter of one of the richest men in Chiba, in all of her benignant and elegant glory. Every salaryman around is likely to be aware of her. Yet, before my husband's stumbling words of stammers and stutters, the girl in question—sensing his identity—stood up and bowed.
"Greetings, honored father. I am Yukinoshita Yukino. I apologize for my intrusion, please take care of me."
"Please take care of me"?! Are you trying to bewitch my husband now, too?! You devil! A hex! Just drop dead already!
"A-ah, yes. Good evening. I am the father of . . . your boyfriend?"
Hachiman and Yukinoshita-san blushed immediately.
"No, no, no, dad!" Komachi intervened, a displeased expression on her face. "They're not boyfriend and girlfriend, they're husband and wife!"
. . .
. . .
. . .
Oh no. My pin dropped.
" . . . mom? Dad?"
"Komachi," said Hachiman fiercely, his red cheeks burning in intensity. "Where did you get that notion?"
"Huh?" Komachi tilted her head. "Wasn't that what 'Allow me the privilege of distorting your life' and 'Please give me your life' meant?"
BLEHK!
After those statements, four things occurred around the dinner table. First off, Yukinoshita-san began choking on the glass of water she tried drinking (how unladylike). Secondly, Hachiman's chopsticks dropped to the floor. Thirdly, my husband—who tried to unbutton his dress shirt—had accidentally popped out a button. And, finally, me, well . . . it was rather difficult to keep a poker face.
Although, I did not expect those choice of words. You're not dating yet you already married each other? How scandalous . . . skipping straight to proposal . . . Okay. Fine. Maybe that was actually pretty cute . . . but, argh! Is it so difficult to just say "I love you"?! How complex do children these days have to be just to court one another?!
I coughed. "Hm . . . I see."
Hachiman's gaping countenance stared at me for a second, his brain likely racking up answers, before he gazed back at his sister.
"Komachi . . . "
"Hm?"
"Where did you find out about that?"
"Oh? Didn't you take a video of your confession?"
" . . . I did?"
"Of course! Haruno-nee-san sent it to me!"
Then, suddenly, his face grew dim. Almost as if everything suddenly made sense. He turned to the quiet girl beside him—who was still as red as the petals of fresh roses.
"Yukinoshita."
"Y-yes?"
"I think I want to sue your sister."
"Do not worry, Hikigaya-kun. I know of a good lawyer."
Okay. Perhaps this Yukinoshita here really is legitimate. After all, almost everyone in the business department knows about that family. So, let me know. Hachiman, were you force fed a love potion or did you force feed her yourself?!
Hey, wait a second . . .
Do you two still not call one another by your first names?! Such a lack of progress means that your relationship is doomed! Better split you apart now than let my son's heart be shattered!
0—✸—0
A few minutes in, my husband finally sat with us at the four-seater table—namely at the head beside me and Hachiman. He complimented the food affirmatively, and made light conversation with us. Yukinoshita-san, on the other hand, began to blend in. I must say, she is a perfect fit in our family. Her conversations were most interesting—not to mention how highly knowledged and profound her tongue is.
"So, Yukinoshita-san," started my husband. "How did you two meet?"
Hachiman intervened first. "Well, pops. It was rather simple. I saw how pitiful she was in a club so I decided to grace her with my high-caliber skill and intellect. I began helping her like the frail maiden she is, so she had no other choice but to fall in love with me."
. . .
I'm pretty sure I didn't raise my son this way . . .
"Onii-chan, that was kinda gross."
"Hikigaya-kun . . . while I most certainly am shocked at how much you downgraded your own partner's skill and prowess, that was palpably not the case."
He grunted. "Look, it's better than letting them know the full story—"
"—Oh," interrupted Yukinoshita-san. "You mean how you wrote some degenerate essay about how your peers should die because of how underdeveloped their brains are?"
He what?!
"Oi! I wasn't exactly lying."
"I didn't say you were."
"Then why are you twisting the story?"
"Is it not wrong for me to use the insecticide, Hiki-buggy-kun?"
"And here I thought you were smart enough to know that I'm not an insect."
"My apologies. I must've mistaken the label for an antiseptic, then."
"Are you calling me a germ again?"
Yukinoshita-san giggled behind her hand.
"Eugh. How the hell did you find out about that essay, anyway?"
She smirked. "I have my ways, of course. Furthermore, I was simply being responsible."
"Or perhaps you just want to be the dominant one in the relationship or something."
"How crude. Do you really think so little of your cute and lovely s-significant other?"
" . . . "
" . . . "
" . . . S-significant other . . . "
The moment he said that word, silence varnished the table. Their cheeks began to flush into 50 different shades of red, and steam began blowing off their ears. Had they finally realized that they weren't alone?
. . .
. . .
. . .
"You see, mom, dad? This is exactly the kind of torture I have to endure in the clubroom. They both keep flirting non-stop in front of me and Yui-san, and they always make us feel as if we were just pebbles on the side of the road!"
. . . Just what was that exchange I witnessed? It felt as if ice-cold water had been poured from over my head! Such a development never occurred between me and my husband until we became newlyweds . . .
"Hachiman," my husband instantly cut-in. "Let's talk out there for a bit."
"E-eh?"
"Come on."
"R-right."
The two males in the room stood up and left by the front door—the younger one giving a reassuring look to his girlfriend. A few seconds later, I decided it was finally time. I let out a sigh, and stared at the slightly nervous partner of his that looked as if she were definitely anticipating this moment. Had I been too obvious with her?
"Yukinoshita-san."
" . . . Y-yes?"
"I should get straight to the point."
She gulped.
"I, in particular, was initially against your relationship. Call it a preconceived notion—but regardless of your social aspects and wealth, I do care about my son's emotional happiness. And, I don't want him being manipulated into doing anything bad for his health. Is that clear?"
Her eyes immediately steeled up, and her posture stiffened in exquisitely rigorous solemnity. She nodded fiercely.
"But, the more I thought about it—how troublesome my son is, how emotionally twisted his thinking is—or used to be, for you to have entered a clear-cut relationship with him to the point of blushing, it must mean that you're aware of who he is as a person."
"Of course."
"I've noticed this lately. Usually, he doesn't particularly enjoy socializing—even with us. I am sure that we, as his parents, have made a mistake somewhere down the line. He's always at his room when we're home, and he rarely eats with us at the table. But, nowadays, he's gotten a bit more social."
Komachi nodded, as if to support that idea.
"And for you to accept him . . . " I sighed. "I used to think that communication is key in a relationship. The moment I heard of your confessory lines from Komachi—the fact that you didn't mention an 'I love you' at that point, it must mean you two are both complex and struggle to communicate directly. There's only one deduction I can make of this, and it's that I know that you two have gotten through a lot of obstacles to reach this point of your relationship you're in today. Am I correct?"
Yukinoshita-san's eyes lowered, before meeting mine. "Yes."
"Even so . . . the fact that someone outside of familial ties out there has made him happy . . . " I smiled. "It fills me with joy."
"You have nothing to worry about, Hikigaya-san. I was tasked with the job to rectify him, and I will stick with it to the very end."
My eyes immediately hardened. "So you view it as a job?"
She shook her head, still calm. "No, for you to propound that idea is inconsistent with your current knowledge of our relationship. I am sure you're aware that what I was saying was merely a bonus."
"Impressive," I nodded affirmatively. "Though, I don't really think he needs further rectification, if you ask me."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh!" Komachi nodded with fervor. "You really did great work with him, Yukino-nee-san!"
"Well, I suppose it was an equivalent exchange. He's helped me in the same manner as well, after all."
"Hmmmm . . . very well, then. I trust you with my son, Yukino. I support you both. I'm sure you'll take care of him. If you don't, well . . . " My eyes darkened and I saw her gulp once again. " . . . the prison seems like a good place to spend the rest of my waking moments . . . doesn't it?"
" . . . "
"Moooom! You're scaring her!"
"Sorry, sorry. It was simply a joke." I then began to smirk. "But, you know . . . I've rarely ever heard of what he's done lately . . . can you tell me what he's like in your club?"
Yukino's previously anxious expression immediately turned into a sweet smile. "Of course. I have an abundance of stories."
0—✸—0
"Onii-chan! Make sure to get her home safely, mkay?"
" . . . yeah."
Hachiman stared at his partner, before staring at his father. His cheeks were faintly red, and it seemed as if that fidgeting dominant hand of his was scrambling restlessly in his right pocket. I could easily tell that he was distressed.
I gazed at my husband in my peripherals. 'Just what exactly did you say to him?!'
He stared back glibly. 'What he needed to know.'
"I am grateful to you both for having me," Yukino bows. "You too, Komachi-san."
"Of course, Yukino-nee-san! You do teach me how to cook better sometimes."
"You're welcome here anytime, Yukino."
" . . . Right. What my wife said."
Currently, we were outside our house—right at the front porch. It was dark out, and I nodded at my son's direction, to which he nodded back.
"Get back home safely, you two. Hachiman, I expect you to be back at 10."
" . . . alright, mom."
Then, the two nodded, and proceeded to walk away.
"See you tomorrow at school, Yukino-nee-sannnn!"
A few seconds later, after returning back to our abode, I couldn't help but clutch my aching head.
"Hachiman . . . all grown up . . . no! I refuse to believe this! I'm doing a background check on all of Yukino's family members!"
I may have seen my husband and Komachi shake their heads, but I dutifully ignored them, continuing onwards with my swift walk.
✸—OMAKE | "Pops' Undying Sagacity"—✸
The air was tight and the outside breeze was chilly. My feet jittered on our grassy front yard, and I scratched my cheek nervously. We had just left after pops called me from the dinner table.
" . . . "
" . . . "
"Son, I'm proud of you."
" . . . Thanks."
I looked at my father, who gazed at me fiercely.
"But, you two are already at that stage."
" . . . 'that stage'?"
He said nothing in response and just nodded. Then, he abruptly turned around and walked to our beautifully trimmed bushes. He stopped at a certain point then bent down, reaching for something I cannot perceive, for the light was thick with murk. A few seconds later, he came walking back with a box grasped firmly between both of his hands—before he straight up shoved it at me.
"Good luck."
Without saying any other word, he proceeded back to the house.
Looking down at the box, I read the label on the side and—
. . .
Thud
. . .
—and then I dropped it.
Why the hell did he hide that in the bushes?! And why the hell did he give that thing to me?!
Yes. That box was no ordinary box. At the top right, for all to see, what was written was: "Multi-flavored Condoms" with the typical "50% Off" inscribed just below.
. . .
. . .
. . .
"You're the best, pops."
I quickly snatched a piece and hid the box somewhere, before going back inside.
"I mean, we were running out."
[UPDATE 7/17/22]: Minor update. Just fixed a few words.