Chapter 29: Bad Odor

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Translator: Soafp

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Sugawara-senpai led the way as I followed her through the gate.

I thought she'd take a key out of her pocket, but instead, she suddenly walked over to the corner of the yard.

Then she lifted up an empty flowerpot.

“…Senpai, don't tell me you don't carry a key with you?”

“Yeah… well. My dad loses it all the time. Making a spare every time isn't cheap either.”

I see. That's how the arsonist in that “nightmare” was able to get through the front door so easily.

Most likely, her father doesn't just lose his keys because of gambling—he's probably drowning in alcohol too.

If he wins, he celebrates with a drink. If he loses, he drinks to escape reality.

(I'll have to install a digital lock later.)

A fingerprint lock—something that can be opened even without a key.

Even if it's not an arsonist, the current setup is way too defenseless.

And it's unlikely that the debt collectors are just that one person.

I should probably do something about the windows too.

“Ah… wait. My dad's already home.”

Sugawara-senpai said that after opening the front door and noticing the shoes on the floor.

She went inside first, and I could hear faint voices coming from deeper in the house.

Were they talking about me?

Surprisingly, she came back to the entrance almost immediately.

“Come in.”

“Ah, excuse me.”

Honestly, I had braced myself for piles of trash and cobwebs in every corner.

Fortunately, that wasn't the case.

But a thin layer of dust had settled over everything, outlining the room in a pale haze.

It wasn't that no one cleaned—but the length of time things had been neglected was written clearly in that dust.

“Dad, let me introduce you.”

I followed her into the living room.

There, sprawled on the floor, was a middle-aged man drinking straight from a carton of alcohol.

At first glance, he looked like an ordinary father enjoying a daytime drink on his day off.

But in the middle of that barren living room—with no sofa, no TV—his eyes looked hollow.

They weren't focused on anything. It was impossible to tell what he was even looking at.

“This is Fukagawa-kun, the one I told you about. He's going to hire me as an assistant for stock trading.”

“Oh—oh!”

Her father staggered to his feet.

As he got closer, the smell of alcohol grew even stronger.

He broke into a wide grin and grabbed both of my shoulders.

“You're a handsome, clean-cut kid! So you're Buffett, huh!”

“No, I'm Fukagawa…”

“Young and already no sense of humor! Anyway, take good care of my daughter. She takes after her mother—real beauty, right?”

“Ah, yes… pleased to meet you…”

He wrapped an arm around my neck in a disturbingly friendly way.

Then he leaned in close—and his expression suddenly changed.

“Whatever else happens, don't you dare stiff her on her pay.”

His alcohol-laced breath made me instinctively grimace.

To this man, his daughter's safety didn't matter—only the money she brought in.

It was revolting.

When he let go of me, he grabbed his daughter by the shoulders and shoved her next to me.

“You two look good together! Hey, Buffett—why not take Airi and live together, huh?”

“Dad, you're too drunk. There's no way Fukagawa-kun would marry someone poor like me.”

“Then how about a mistress, huh? A capable young guy like you ought to keep a few women around!”

“Hahaha!” he laughed loudly.

Suggesting his own daughter become someone's mistress—was that even something you could joke about?

No… maybe he wasn't joking at all.

He was trying to squeeze money out of me through her.

As I stood there frozen in shock, he suddenly left the living room and headed for the entrance.

“An old guy like me shouldn't ruin the mood, right? I'll leave you youngsters to it!”

“Dad, are you going to work again? Are you okay being that drunk?”

“I'm fine, I'm fine! I'm not dead yet! This time I'll really hit it big!”

The front door opened—and then shut.

Now, only Sugawara-senpai and I remained in the house.

She still didn't know her father was addicted to gambling.

There was no doubt—he wasn't going to work, he was heading to gamble.

Watching her gently say,

“Okay, do your best at work,”

to him… made my chest ache.

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“Alright, I'll go make some instant noodles. Just wait a bit.”

We went to her room.

It was just like the living room.

There was almost nothing there—so bare it was hard to believe a high school girl lived here.

No closet, not even hangers. Her uniform and casual clothes were just lying on the floor.

Honestly, even a prison cell might have felt more lived-in.

(Ah… so this was it. The place from that ‘nightmare'!)

The second dream—where Sugawara-senpai had suffered severe burns to her face.

I had known it happened indoors, but not where.

But now I knew.

The place where she had been burned and sobbing in the future… was her own house, engulfed in flames.

(I see… this is exactly where it happened.)

It wasn't her fault.

Just because she was that man's daughter.

No matter what, I had to prevent that worst possible future.

I renewed my resolve—right then.

“Here.”

She came back into the room carrying two cups of instant noodles and a pair of disposable chopsticks.

I took mine and sat down across from her on the floor.

She took a sip of the soup first and said,

“It's good. It feels like it's been a really long time since I had something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It's expensive, you know. Since you've been giving me 10,000 yen lately, I've been able to indulge a little.”

“Indulge,” huh…

So for her, this was a luxury—and she served it to me.

Thinking that way, I could feel her sincerity deeply.

“Thank you. I'll enjoy it.”

I followed her lead and drank the soup.

She gave a faint smile.

It looked somewhat similar to the expression she had shown her father earlier.

“Senpai, this might be a rude question, but…”

“What is it?”

“What do you think about your father?”

Preventing the arson incident was the top priority.

But at the same time, it was just as urgent to let her know the truth about her father—and get her away from him.

For that, I needed to understand how she felt.

Only then could I figure out how to help her.

“…Let's see. Lately he drinks every day, and sometimes doesn't even come home… but he used to be kind. Whenever he came back from overseas business trips, he always brought me tons of gifts.”

“How did things end up like this?”

“His business failed. I don't really understand it, but apparently things were going well before. He said they were a primary vendor for a major company—something about working with companies in Silicon Valley.”

“That sounds like a pretty big operation.”

“But he got caught up in a politician's scandal. According to him, they were made into scapegoats.”

Now that she mentioned it, I vaguely remembered a time back in elementary or middle school when the media made a huge fuss about corruption involving a powerful politician.

I never imagined it would be connected to her.

“Honestly… the way he is now… it's hard to watch sometimes. You asked because you noticed too, right?”

“Well… yeah. It might not be my place to say, but he didn't seem… normal.”

“That's true… but he's trying in his own way. And he's my only family.”

My eyes widened at her words.

Her only family?

Come to think of it, something had felt off.

In everything she'd told me—and even in this house—there was no trace of a mother.

Not even in the “nightmare.”

“Um… what do you mean, ‘only'…?”

“Oh, didn't I tell you? My mom left right after my dad's business failed. I don't even know how to contact her. Where she is, what she's doing, whether she's even alive… I don't know anything.”

“I… see.”

Everything finally made sense.

From her father's perspective, his company was unfairly destroyed, and his wife left him.

In that kind of situation, it wouldn't be strange if he turned to gambling—and then alcohol.

(Wait… then could it be…)

Suddenly, I remembered seeing her at school with bandages on her left arm, and wearing black tights even in summer.

Considering how much she tried to save money, there was no way it was just for fashion.

Bandages and black tights—what they had in common was… that they were convenient for hiding something.

“Senpai, I know this is rude, but please answer honestly.”

Swallowing nervously, I asked:

“Your father… does he ever hit you…?”