Chapter 20 – Mom's Pretty Damn Carefree About This

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On my way back home after getting my a*s handed to me at the Shorinji Kempo dojo, I ran into Chihiro-san just as she was getting off work.

“Oh, Yuuya-kun.”

“Good evening. Just finished work?”

“Yeah. Had to stay a little late today.”

So we ended up walking side by side—me, fresh from martial arts hell, and her, a single mom still in her work clothes.

Chihiro-san looked young. If someone saw us, they'd probably think we were siblings. Honestly, if I had an older sister like her—wavy brown hair, killer body, huge tits pressing up against that tight black knit sweater—I might've turned out more socially competent. At the very least, I might know how to actually talk to women without sounding like a complete idiot.

But seriously, what the hell is up with black knit sweaters? They're already dangerous on flat-chested girls. On someone like Chihiro-san, they hit goddamn nuclear levels. Those things molded around her chest like they were custom-made to show off every curve. Not fair.

“Thank you, Yuuya-kun.”

“Huh? For what?”

S**t—I'd spaced out. Her voice snapped me back to reality.

“For encouraging Mahiro.”

“I didn't really do anything.”

“So humble.”

“Nah, not really.”

“Iya yo, iya yo mo suki no uchi, maybe?”

“You know you can't say stuff like that with a straight face anymore, right? Feminists'll have your head. Tread carefully.”

Honestly, talking to Chihiro-san was probably the least mentally taxing thing I did all day. Her pace, her voice, the way she teased—it was chill. Comfortable.

But then I started feeling her gaze on me. Persistent. Quiet. Like she was sizing me up for something. I played dumb.

“Something wrong?”

Didn't expect anything seductive or romantic, but still. Her stare made me restless.

“Really smart, kind, and humble. Guys like you… you're the kind who can actually make a woman happy. We just don't see it when we're young.”

Ah. This again.

She let out a sigh, the kind only someone thoroughly steamrolled by life could manage. No, scratch that—that'd be rude. But still, it felt like more than just the “youth makes dumb choices” kind of thing. People get older and still chase the same shiny crap, ignoring what actually matters, only to regret it later. Same song, different verse.

“Nobody goes through life thinking about that stuff up front. Everyone just judges people based on what's easy to see. Looks, jobs, confidence. That's just how it is.”

I wasn't trying to sound cynical, but I knew I wasn't the type to be praised like this. If Temari were here, she'd laugh and say, “A guy with a twisted personality like yours? No thanks, I'll pass.”

“You're pretty detached from all this, huh?”

“That's just how it goes.”

“But I really do appreciate you, Yuuya-kun. Mahiro talks about you a lot. We were just saying the other day—‘Yuuya-kun is such a good person. We can't thank him enough.'”

“I appreciate that. But let me ask you something—does being a ‘good person' make someone a potential love interest?”

“…What?”

“I've been thinking. People say ‘he's a good person,' right? But it never sounds romantic. It's more like… a polite dismissal. Like, he's good to have around, dependable maybe, but not someone you'd date.”

“That's…”

“When someone's a real romantic option, the phrasing changes. They don't say ‘good person.' They say ‘good man.' You hear the difference, right? A ‘good person' is harmless. A ‘good man' has weight.”

“……”

“It's always that way. ‘He's a good person, but not my type.' ‘A good person, but he's too passive.' ‘A good person, but I just don't feel anything.' It's all elimination. Quiet disqualifications.”

She stayed quiet, maybe thinking it over.

“But when it's a ‘strong man'? People overlook everything else. ‘He's reckless, but he's strong.' ‘He's a mess, but at least he's strong.' It's like they're willing to add points to someone who's got impact, rather than subtract from someone who's just… nice.”

“…I won't say you're wrong. But I guess everyone has their own idea of what's ideal.”

There it was. She bit. Perfect opening.

“Ideals, huh?”

“Yeah. The kind of man a woman sees as ideal. A lot of women seem to chase after ‘strong men.' Maybe it's instinct.”

“…I see…”

“But once they actually start dating that ‘ideal man,' reality hits. He's not all mystery and muscles anymore. The cracks start showing.”

“Hm… So the things they ignored before suddenly can't be ignored anymore?”

“Exactly. The same strength that made him attractive starts to feel like stubbornness. Or worse. And they're stuck thinking, ‘Is this what I really wanted?'”

“…Ugh. Now I feel like drinking.”

She came to a stop, staring at the sign of a liquor store like it had just whispered her name.

That can't be good.

If she picked up something strong, I had a sinking feeling tonight wasn't going to end quietly.

“Hey, Yuuya-kun, do you think Sayaka will be free tonight?”

“My mom? If you ask her, she'd never say no.”

That's right—Sayaka's my mother. First time her name came up. Figured I might as well mention it before this spiraled further.

But if Chihiro-san showed up at our place tonight, I could already see the future. I'd be collateral damage.

I should lock myself in my room. Pretend I had a major test coming