InsomniaWL
patreon
566 — Me and My Fathers-in-Law
🕑 Added 2025-10-04 15:35:50 +0000 UTCKyousuke’s reason for growing stronger was simple.
He wanted to be the kind of man who, when someone messed with the people he cared about, could show up with a van full of friends and scatter their ashes to the wind.
“But just like Hiratsuka-sensei said, people are like knots in a rope, all tangled together. I really am affecting those around me.
Back in fifth grade, Sakura was hit by a stray baseball thrown by some kids in the neighborhood square. When she got home, she acted like nothing had happened.”
But there was no fooling Kyousuke—especially after learning from the famous detective Hojou Mikiko for over ten years.
He instantly grabbed a stick and went straight over to teach those little punks a lesson.
Katou Megumi didn’t have Hiratsuka-sensei’s insight into the human heart, nor Shouko’s gentle empathy that could ease Kyousuke’s burdens.
But her simple, ordinary nature had a strange power—she could make people open up without even trying.
She’d say something like, “You know, I get kind of annoyed when you start daydreaming while we’re talking,” but it always came with that subtle subtext:
‘I’m just an ordinary, petty girl who sweats the small stuff. So even if you’re kind of an idiot, Hojou-kun, you don’t have to feel bad about it.’
“Hojou-kun…”
As Kyousuke rambled on, sitting there lost in his own thoughts, the girl sitting on the bed smiled faintly.
She tilted her head up, eyes half-closed, staring at the round ceiling light.
So even the sun has its troubles, huh?
Maybe that’s why the moon borrows its light—so the sun can have a little break from shining.
“Hojou-kun, you really think about a lot of things, don’t you~?”
Her light, teasing voice carried through the receiver. Kyousuke paused, chuckled to himself, and let out a small sigh.
His mother had been clumsy when he was a kid, but thinking about it, she was actually younger than he had been in his previous life.
How could someone like him ever live like a normal high school boy, with nothing in his head but girls and games?
“But you know,” Megumi said softly, “everyone’s got their own worries. The more you stress over others, the less they want to bother you with theirs… If you try to handle everything yourself, you’ll just end up like a nagging old grandma~.”
“Yeah, that’s true, but sometimes it’s just… frustrating.”
“Shouko’s a kind and obedient girl, sure—but she actually thought about skipping high school altogether. When I found out, I was furious.
And Eriri… don’t even get me started. She’s a walking contradiction—tsundere on the outside, prideful to a fault on the inside.
She acts like a lazy slacker, but her competitive streak is ridiculous.
I mean, we’re just playing fetch with the dog—she throws it, the dog brings it back—and suddenly she’s jealous of how good the dog is and starts throwing it so far he can’t even find it…”
Listening on the other end, Megumi’s laughter turned her eyes into little crescents.
‘Looks like Hojou-kun’s been holding this in for a while.’
He sounded nothing like the dependable, cool-headed Kyousuke everyone else knew. But she wasn’t surprised. She saw things others didn’t.
Because Katou Megumi was, after all, invisible.
People rarely noticed her—and that invisibility made her the silent keeper of everyone’s secrets.
When classmates talked, they forgot she was there.
They’d complain about others, gossip, or spill private thoughts right in front of her.
Over time, Megumi had gathered what could only be described as an elite-level information network.
Who liked who, who thought who was stingy or fake, who was pretending to be a perfect influencer online while secretly dating someone from another school—Megumi knew everything.
It was always the same.
The star forward of the soccer club had cleaning duty but was in a rush to practice.
Some kind soul would say, “Don’t worry, there’s not much left—go ahead.”
The ace would grin. “Thanks, you’re a good guy.”
Then as soon as he left, the ‘good guy’ would mutter under his breath, “Yeah, right. You and your whole family are ‘good people.’”
Neither of them noticed the short-haired girl sweeping just a meter away. She blinked, then quietly went back to cleaning.
Or the lovestruck girl sighing dreamily at the handsome physics teacher, whispering a string of nonsense like some ancient god’s incantation…
Those secrets—those unguarded words—only existed when people thought no one was listening.
And that was exactly what Megumi was.
‘The Silent Emperor of Stealth—the girl who ruled over whispers and air itself!’
“…Like today,” Kyousuke continued, “even though I told everyone the plan, Eriri skipped club just to ‘help take care of Kasuko.’ In reality, she just wanted Kasuko to comfort her.”
He trailed off, exasperated.
Somehow, being kind of a mess himself, he always attracted the weak and clingy types.
His dog Momotarou, for example, followed Eriri around like a brother. And now, it seemed, little Kasuko had joined her side too.
When Kyousuke came home that evening, his sister, his dog, and Eriri all rushed to the door together—three completely different faces, but all with the same gleaming eyes full of unspoken meaning.
Knowing Eriri too well, Kyousuke immediately understood what she wanted to ask, so he started explaining how the presentation went.
But before he could finish, Eriri dramatically waved her hand and told Kasuko,
“See? I told you your brother would be fine! Besides, you’ve got your unbeatable big sister Eriri helping him—so stop worrying.”
Her expression was calm and confident, like some tactician who had everything under control.
Later, Yukari explained what had really happened.
That afternoon, Kasuko had gone around asking everyone when her beloved brother would come home.
Eriri, trying to act all mature, told her, “Your brother’s working on something really important right now. We can’t bother him—we have to cheer him on quietly.”
So Kasuko, who originally just wanted to play, suddenly became serious.
‘If onii-chan’s doing something so important that he can’t even play with me, it must be something huge!’
She stopped playing with her toys, sat cross-legged on the living room carpet, and started strategizing with Eriri about how to “cheer on onii-chan.”
By the time Kyousuke came home, the two had spent the entire afternoon building up tension.
Kasuko even asked her mom three times to call the grandparents—and the cows from the family farm—for backup.
Eriri herself was about one step away from calling her own dad for “emergency assistance.”
If Yukari hadn’t been home, Eriri might’ve actually stormed into the publisher’s office to find him.
Thankfully, the legendary Hojou Mikiko was there to keep the chaos contained.
And when Kyousuke finally stepped through the door, Eriri—who’d been worrying all day—still managed to strike a pose like she’d planned it all from the start.
His clever yet utterly foolish little sister actually looked at Eriri with genuine admiration and said, “Wow, Eriri, you really are an adult—you’re so smart!”
The golden-haired princess’s vanity soared through the roof, and before long she was boasting, “Just wait—when Kasuko grows up, she’ll be as dependable and adorable as me!”
If someone ever questioned Eriri’s own work, she’d definitely lock herself in her room, kick all her plushies across the floor, and rant about how the judges and audience “had no taste at all.”
After all, everything she’d achieved—her talent, her skill, her success—had come from endless hours of sweat and stubborn effort.
The pride and confidence built from that kind of steady progress could be terrifying.
“…But when it comes to me,” Kyousuke sighed, “that girl completely loses her cool. She’s already a top-tier artist, getting premium tables at every convention.
And yet, when it involves me, she turns into that same nervous wreck I first met years ago, trembling behind her booth at her first event.”
Megumi’s voice came through the phone, calm and teasing. “Just like you right now, Hojou-kun?”
“Huh?”
Her words froze him in place.
“You’re the same as Eriri,” Megumi continued softly. “You’re nervous because she’s nervous.”
“…So, what, is that called cross-infection or something?” she said uncertainly.
“???”
Cross-infection? What kind of logic was that supposed to be?!
Kyousuke nearly dropped his phone before realizing she meant emotional contagion—he’d influenced Eriri, and now her anxiety was bouncing back to him.
He laughed. “Then maybe it’s not her infecting me. Maybe it’s still my influence on her—just… grown inside her—and now it’s come back to me full circle.”
Megumi pouted adorably, blinking her soft eyes.
“Hojou-kun, you really are a handful.”
Kyousuke burst out laughing. “I’ve always been a handful.”
“Honestly, it’s been nothing but you all day,” Megumi grumbled playfully. “My sister called this morning, Keiichi messaged me at lunch, and even my dad brought you up while reading the newspaper tonight…”
Her tone was light and natural, like she was just sharing her day—but it also felt like she was gently returning his venting with her own little complaints.
Apparently, thanks to Kyousuke, her family had talked to her more in one day than in her entire life combined.
“Haha! Next time we meet, I’ll make sure to thank them properly for all their support,” Kyousuke said.
“They’ll only get worse if you do,” Megumi replied dryly.
Their back-and-forth teasing could’ve easily turned awkward with anyone else, but instead, their conversation just kept flowing—easy, comfortable, and oddly addictive.
Kyousuke sat on the rooftop, the night sky stretching endlessly above.
In the distance, the cram school’s lights still glowed bright, while nearby homes had already gone dark.
This kind of quiet residential area had no nightlife—just the faint orange glow of streetlights, and a silence deep enough to hear your own thoughts.
A cool breeze slipped through his shirt sleeves, brushing against his skin.
It felt refreshing—like the worries in his chest were drifting away, turned into little musical notes carried off by the night wind and Megumi’s voice.
Just as he was about to start a new topic, he heard her say, lightly—
“Hojou-kun, I bet you and Mitsuha’s dad get along really well.”
Kyousuke nearly choked.
‘Get along? With Miyamizu-san? No way!’
The first time they met, the man had practically thought he was some kind of evil spirit possessing his daughter’s body.
The poor guy was so freaked out he didn’t dare meet Mitsuha for weeks afterward.
Even people who weren’t into literature usually threw in a polite compliment about Kyousuke’s books—but Miyamizu Toshiki?
He went out of his way to pick them apart.
One moment he was dissecting the plot for “geographical inconsistencies,” the next he was criticizing police procedures from a professional standpoint.
The man was so relentless he could’ve been the number-one hater on the internet—the kind that would make Kisaki Tetta himself call in a whole army of trolls.
Kyousuke wanted to laugh and tell her the story, but then he stopped himself.
Thinking back over their earlier chat, he realized what Megumi had actually meant.
They’d been talking about newspapers from Gifu Prefecture.
He and Miyamizu-san read the same one—so naturally, they shared similar opinions when discussing current events.
The realization hit him like a lightning bolt.
He didn’t read just one paper.
He subscribed to several—with completely different political leanings.
There was the Times, which his British diplomat friend Spencer liked (and yes, he kept accidentally calling it a “2D culture magazine”).
Then there was the Sankei News, a favorite of Kasumigaoka’s father, the local businessman.
And of course, Miyamizu-san’s choice—a traditional paper favored by old-school officials from Nara.
Their political stances couldn’t be more different.
If he ever slipped up in conversation and said something like, “Well, my other father-in-law* thinks differently, but I agree with you,” his moral compass—already hanging by a thread—would probably just pack its bags and leave.
Thankfully, he’d caught on early.
His hyper-organized science brain could categorize every bit of data perfectly.
When the time came, he’d be ready—different topics, different opinions, tailor-made small talk for each “dad.”
‘Katou Megumi really is a lifesaver.’
He smiled to himself.
Out loud, though, he just said, “Get along? Not even close. Last time I dropped Mitsuha off, her dad nearly chased me out of the house with a broom.”
Still, that reminded him of something.
Earlier that day, his editor Akamatsu had mentioned that the Tokyo Metropolitan Government had placed a strange bulk order for books from their publisher—officially labeled as “educational materials.”
When they looked into it, it turned out to be from the Special Disaster Response Division.
They called to confirm if it was a mistake, and the department apparently replied, “We’re using The Devotion of Suspect X as reference material—to study crimes targeting the homeless.”
Kyousuke immediately understood what was going on.
Laughing and touched at the same time, he told Mitsuha about it later—only for her to blink in surprise.
“Really? I didn’t know that. I just mentioned your book once at home… I didn’t think Dad would actually remember.”
She smiled softly then, her expression warm and sincere.
“You know, my dad really does like you, Hojou.”
For Mitsuha, seeing the two most important men in her life—her father and Kyousuke—find even that tiny bit of common ground… it was enough to make her heart feel full.
