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374 — Hojou, Now I Understand Just How Hard It Is for You
🕑 Added 2025-07-12 15:00:14 +0000 UTC“It’s not that—ah, no, what I mean is, there’s no way you’re actually going to celebrate Hojou!”
Mitsuha shook her head furiously, tripping over her own words.
“And besides! His parents are going to be there. Wouldn’t it be… I don’t know, awkward if you showed up?”
Flustered, she tried to explain, but her thoughts drifted back to elementary school sports day.
Back then, her mother was still alive.
As the wife of the most respected man in town—her father, the current head priest of Miyamizu Shrine—her mom was naturally invited to give the opening speech at the school event.
During the games, no matter which event she participated in, her parents would always be standing at the sidelines cheering her on.
When she ran the long-distance race, her mother would shout encouragements at the top of her lungs.
During the flour hunt relay—where you dig for a marshmallow hidden in a tray of flour using only your mouth—her mom would be there yelling for her as well.
Meanwhile, her dad would be busy snapping away with his beloved Minolta XD camera, capturing her sweaty, clueless face as she got passed by her competitors, or her flour-covered cheeks as she clamped down triumphantly on the marshmallow.
One time, during the "borrowed item race," she was instructed to bring “the person you love most.”
While other kids gleefully dragged their moms to the next checkpoint, her mom ran away, turning the whole thing into a mother-daughter chase—while her dad stood at the sidelines, laughing and filming the whole thing.
Looking back, maybe the reason she liked Mikiko-auntie so much wasn’t just because she was Kyousuke’s mom… but because she saw pieces of her own mother in her.
Every time she thought about Hokkaido and the warm family atmosphere there, that long-lost feeling of being loved, Mitsuha felt something tender stir in her chest.
And then… her mother passed away.
Her father became known as the widower of the late Mrs. Futaba, the former head priest of the shrine and now the acting mayor of Itomori.
Once again, he was naturally invited to give the opening speech at the next school sports festival.
While other parents were cheering from the sidelines, snapping precious childhood photos...
Miyamizu Toshiki stood at the podium, glaring at her with the intensity of a hawk.
He had snatched the microphone from the announcer and was yelling in a tone more suited to a war drama than a school event:
“Mitsuha! Get your act together!”
And like clockwork, the moment that voice boomed across the field—Mitsuha would win first place.
Not because she was suddenly inspired by her father’s “encouragement,” nor because her classmates were intimidated by the mayor and intentionally threw the race.
No.
It was because the entire crowd would freeze in stunned silence, turning to the relaxation tent to see what on earth was going on.
While Mitsuha, blushing furiously, sprinted as fast as she could to the finish line, then kept running—out of the field, through the school gate, and all the way home to the shrine.
‘Aaaaaahhh!!!’
Just remembering it made her face heat up like a stove.
Why couldn’t her brain be more like Kyousuke’s and block out these kinds of traumatic memories forever!?
“In short! Dad—you absolutely, absolutely can’t come!”
Her head shook like a rattle drum, trying her best not to imagine the disaster that would unfold if he showed up at the banquet.
“Mi-tsu-ha! Is that any way to speak to your father!?”
“Shut it. Say another word and I’m not taking you.”
She didn’t even turn around as she threw the warning over her shoulder, both hands now pushing her father up the stairs like she was trying to carry him away from civilization.
“Ah, sorry, Dad. I’m heading out first.”
Yotsuba gave a polite little nod.
As far as her capabilities went, this was the most she could do to support their father under Mitsuha’s iron reign.
“Let’s go, Sachiko, Kaya—time for a feast!”
The three little girls trotted out the front door.
Shouko gave their father a polite smile and a small bow before quickly following after the trio.
“Being a government official doesn’t mean you get weekends off, you know! Hurry up and buy a day pass, ride the train, and inspect Tokyo.
Keep an eye out for kaiju, comets, or alien invasions. No slacking off—no taxpayer freeloading!”
Mitsuha launched into a full-on guilt trip—albeit an amateur one.
Everyone knows being a “salary thief” is the true nature of any working stiff.
If you actually took your job that seriously, your subordinates would hate you and your boss would give you the stink eye.
Miyamizu Toshiki’s expression twisted with complex emotions—not because of his daughter’s sass, but because of how late her rebellious phase had arrived.
‘Sigh… It’s my fault for missing so much of Mitsuha’s childhood.’
‘No wonder her teenage rebellion showed up late.’
The old man let out a quiet sigh, more determined than ever to accompany his daughter to meet Kyousuke’s parents.
Since she didn’t understand how delicate this situation was, he, as her father, would have to handle it on her behalf.
…That said, Mitsuha’s strength was no joke.
Despite him digging in his heels, Toshiki was still being forcefully pushed up the stairs.
‘Damn that brat Hojou!’
‘If he hadn’t taught Mitsuha kendo, she’d still be my sweet little girl…’
————————————————————————
[Five minutes later]
“Good afternoon, Uncle Miyamizu,”
Shouko bowed politely, then quickly moved from the back row to sit beside Mitsuha in the two-seater at the front, leaving the rear seats for the three little girls—and a now fully suited-up Miyamizu Toshiki.
“Mm.”
Toshiki smiled and nodded at her, then turned to his younger daughter and gave her a discreet wink. The two shared a quick high-five.
“Driver, we’re ready.”
Mitsuha gave the order with a sigh, then closed her eyes and groaned as if she were being led to the gallows.
Shouko gently held her hand.
Having once been forced to cut off her beautiful long hair by her mother, she understood this kind of pain better than anyone.
Feeling that warm, comforting touch, Mitsuha opened her eyes and gave Shouko a pained smile.
Her father... he really was a man who could switch between roles—folklorist, head priest, mayor, Tokyo bureaucrat—without breaking a sweat.
All it took was a single sentence to force her into agreeing to let him tag along.
“I’ll drive there myself. And if I miss today’s event, I’ll visit the Hojou family in person.”
‘Aaaaaarghhh… so painful…’
Shouko let out a sympathetic sigh, gripping her phone a little tighter, her soft cheeks forming a wry smile identical to Mitsuha’s.
The car made its way toward Shimbashi Station in Minato Ward—the rendezvous point for the group from Suimon City.
————————————————————————
Ootori Residence
Hojou Ichirou sipped from his wine glass, casually making small talk with those around him while silently observing his son from across the room.
Last time he was in Tokyo, just seeing the endless stream of girls visiting their home had him so stunned, he almost packed up and fled on the spot.
And when he actually returned home, he thanked the gods for retreating when he did—because that brat of mine had gone completely off the rails.
He was living with multiple girls!
Terrifying.
While his wife happily watched videos that Sakura had sent, giggling away, Hojou Ichirou had only one burning question on his mind:
‘How in the hell is that kid managing to live with so many girls without causing an all-out war?!’
Especially girls like those—each one more formidable than the last.
And don’t even get him started on their family backgrounds...
No good.
Just thinking about that string of titles—diplomat, Fire Department division chief, Saitama City’s second-largest furniture retailer...
—made the once-confident, former top Tokyo lawyer who had just boldly handed over his handwritten business card break into a cold sweat.
This wasn't a courtroom showdown about who could be more shameless.
If that punk made even a single wrong move, he, as his father, would be the one bowing in apology!
Damn it. Tokyo really had turned his kid’s head.
Huff—
Hojou Ichirou took a swig of his drink to calm himself—and was surprised to find that this junmai ginjo sake from Kyoto, called Beautiful Kamogawa, was unexpectedly good.
Cool and fragrant with the aroma of rice...
Ah, what nonsense.
Even a 500-yen bottle of sake could taste like this if the mood was right.
Anyway, setting aside the girls’ impressive family backgrounds for a moment, each one of them was charming and exceptional in her own right.
The kind of girl you'd wish your daughter could grow up to be.
Of course, Kasuko was already adorable—and she’d definitely grow up to be even cuter.
After all, her mother—his wife—was the cutest of them all.
And then there was Utaha, who planned this whole surprise party.
Not only had she persuaded his wife to help keep it a secret from Kyousuke, but she’d even tracked down all of Kyousuke’s scattered friends and gathered them here.
That kind of resourcefulness and determination? Not something you'd expect from a high school girl.
Let’s not even talk about that man who made a total fool of himself at the party—Ishida Hidenori.
Even without direct information, Ichirou could piece together what had happened just from the situation alone.
A girl who could pull off something so ruthless? There was no way she could get along peacefully with so many other girls living under one roof.
It baffled him.
Back at home, he’d wondered if his son’s house was constantly full of drama—his main job being to play peacekeeper between arguing girls every day.
But after seeing Utaha, he changed his guess: maybe it was a battlefield, and Kyousuke spent his days bandaging the wounded.
And now, watching his son take a seat beside that high school teacher, Yukino Yukari...
Tch—
Just the thought made Ichirou’s teeth ache.
A third-year high school girl, a college upperclassman, a working woman running her own gallery—that was already pushing it.
But now even a high school teacher? And they were already living together?!
‘Kyousuke, you rascal...’
But even so, as he watched his son sit next to Yukari and, in a matter of minutes, coax a smile from that graceful, classically beautiful woman
—then ease Kasumigaoka Utaha and Eriri into a lively conversation
—then move over to restaurant owner Okudera Miki and bring such a glow to her face she looked like she’d just walked out of a beauty salon...
Ichirou had to admit it:
Kyousuke had it tough.
Now he understood why these girls, all with such strong, distinct personalities, were still so willing to gather around his son.
Why they could all become gentle and calm as the waters of the Kamogawa in front of him.
He didn’t know how a man like himself—who had only ever loved one woman—had ended up with such a ridiculous son.
But despite that...he couldn’t help feeling proud.
That’s my boy.
Just like I was back in the day—irresistible to women. Well, not without some help from Mikiko’s excellent genes, of course.
Ichirou laughed heartily.
For a moment, he even started to believe that maybe his son didn’t need to run back to Hokkaido like old man Yagi suggested.
“Cheers!”
He poured himself another glass of Kamogawa sake.
The crystal-clear liquid shimmered under the warm yellow light, just like his mood—bright and glowing.
“Cheers!”
Osaka Gou echoed the toast, downed his glass, and refilled it for Ichirou.
Now that Yukari and Miki had found the rhythm of the party, and Eriri and Utaha had finally relaxed and set aside their tension, Kyousuke smiled in relief.
Then, as the host, he was about to return to the men’s table to fulfill his duties when—
“Ah, they’re here!”
Yamauchi Sakura looked at her buzzing phone, gave a cheerful cry, and popped the whole grilled beef skewer in her mouth before briskly standing up to head outside.
“Is it Yuzuru and the others?”
Kyousuke paused, hand still bracing on the floor. He knew the answer already—it couldn't be.
Even if the notoriously delay-prone Keihin-Tohoku/Negishi Line behaved itself for once, it was still way too early for them to arrive.
Not that delays were because of people randomly traveling to isekai worlds or anything.
It was just... you know, part of the charm. Something to keep people hopeful.
“Nope~ Someone else~”
Sakura laughed as she grabbed her shoes from the rack, then clapped her hands together and twirled her way out the door to welcome the new guests.
‘Someone else?’
Kyousuke sat cross-legged, scanning the room from Sakura’s point of view.
It wasn’t her parents, that much was clear.
After all, Sakura had always treated her mother like a personal assistant.
When she was little, she’d do everything in her power to make her dad stay late at work, just so she could convince her mom not to cook dinner—and then the two of them would conveniently end up eating at Kyousuke’s house.
She was not the type to invite her parents to a party.
Which left... Katou Megumi.
Kyousuke nodded.
He’d heard from Utaha that Megumi had been invited earlier, but declined due to “family matters.”
Maybe those were settled now?
Though knowing Megumi... “family matters” probably meant she stayed home to watch the awards ceremony live stream.
Thinking of that bob-cut girl’s signature “completely honest lies,” Kyousuke chuckled to himself.
But then—his smile froze.
“Hello~ Hello~~~”
A cheerful, vibrant voice echoed through the room.
There was something special about it—an unmistakable presence that made you feel like the speaker had to be the most welcome guest of all.
A voice that made you expect everyone around to say things like,
“You’re finally here!”
“We’ve been waiting for you!”
“Come sit with us!”
“No, come over here!”
Only someone truly confident in their popularity could greet people with that much energy.
As she spoke, she bent slightly forward, waving her pale fingers with a bright smile.
Her black hair swayed gently, the ends tinged a soft red, bouncing with her bubbly voice.
“Sorry to intrude!”
Behind her came a crisp, cool voice, followed by a perfectly executed fifteen-degree bow.
“Haruno? Yukinoshita?” Kyousuke stood up, blinking in surprise at the two familiar faces.
Yes, it was her—the kind of girl who instantly became the center of attention, no matter where she went.
Even arriving late to a party, she could make everyone want to stay longer just for her.
Wearing a white blouse, a black knit cardigan, and a modest long skirt, with a coffee-colored satchel slung over her shoulder, she looked stylish and playful—ageless, even.
Yukinoshita Haruno.
And standing next to her was the ever-stoic Yukinoshita Yukino.
Her expression was so blank it looked like she’d rather be anywhere else—but Kyousuke didn’t mind.
He knew that inside, the black-haired girl was probably a bundle of nerves.
“Ehhhhh~?”
Haruno dragged out the sound with a teasing lilt, slipped off her shoes, and leaned in close to Kyousuke.
