9 The Clumsy Beauty

Manual das Namoradas de Tóquio Zhou Huanghez子 3040 words 2026-08-05 01:34:10

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With a sigh of relief, Kyosuke Hojo felt somewhat at ease. Though he claimed not to care, ever since he saw their class’s nursery rhyme, "The Monster’s Epic," and learned about Shoko Nishimiya, a classmate with a hearing impairment who was regarded as strange by others, Kyosuke had been worried whether Sakurara’s class nursery rhymes might also be some twisted, cannibalistic verses. He knew all too well how dark Japanese nursery rhymes could be—filled with all sorts of grotesque, horrifying tales.

“‘Red Dragonfly,’ huh? That’s actually quite nice. Among Japanese nursery rhymes, it’s considered a genuine one.”

“Kyosuke, you say things I don’t understand again. It’s all your fault for reading too many books—doesn’t that just make me look like an idiot?”

“Sakurara, haven’t you always been an idiot?”

“Add ‘beauty’ after that, will you!”

“‘Beautiful idiot’? Where did that nickname come from?”

“Don’t you accept it? Nicknames are given by others, but if I give one to myself and you start calling me that, then isn’t it an acknowledged nickname?”

“Alright, beautiful idiot, have you learned ‘Red Dragonfly’ yet?”

“Of course! My mother taught me to sing it when I was little.”

“True enough, Aunt Maki looks like the kind who would sing nursery rhymes to lull you to sleep—nothing like my own mother.”

“Hmm? What’s wrong with Aunt Mikiko? Didn’t she sing nursery rhymes to you when you were a kid?”

“Not at all. Compared to you, that woman fits the name ‘beautiful idiot’ even better.”

“Ha ha ha ha, is it really okay for you to say that about Aunt Mikiko?”

“As long as you don’t tell her, it’s fine.”

“Ha! Then I’ve got something on you! Tomorrow, I want double servings of yam ice cream!”

“Alright, then you have to run an extra 500 meters every morning.”

“I’m sorry! Please forgive me, Lord Kyosuke.”

Sakurara Yamauchi immediately ran up to Kyosuke Hojo, clasped her hands together above her head.

“Alright, if your class wins first place in the choir competition this time, I’ll make you a drink even better than cola.”

Sakurara’s moods came and went quickly and unpredictably; now she struck a victorious pose—one hand on her hip, the other pointing at Kyosuke—and loudly declared,

“Then you’d better prepare to lose!”

“Alright, alright, let’s hurry home. Aunt Maki must be worried.”

“Darn! It’s so late already, run, Kyosuke!”

Without waiting, Sakurara took off running first. Her small frame seemed even more dwarfed by the huge backpack swaying with her ponytail. Kyosuke worried she might trip over it.

“What are you dawdling for? Hurry up and catch up!”

Seeing Kyosuke still walking slowly, Sakurara turned back, grabbed his hand, and they ran together—just like when Kyosuke first pulled her along.

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They quickly reached Sakurara Yamauchi’s home. After a brief farewell, Kyosuke took a few steps forward to return to his own house.

Both families lived in typical detached houses, separated only by a narrow alley.

“I’m home.”

“Kyosuke’s back! Today we have beef sent from your father’s hometown.”

“What is it this time? Did some cow sprain its leg? Or suffer from depression?”

“*Giggle giggle*”

Mikiko Hojo, still busy in the kitchen, burst out laughing at that.

“Kyosuke, how can you say such things?”

“Isn’t it true? Every time you say you want to eat beef, Dad always has the cows on the farm get ‘understanding illnesses.’”

“You’re so mean! How can you say that about Mom? It hurts.”

Turning around, Mikiko Hojo gave Kyosuke a mock scolding look.

Her face was stunningly youthful, seemingly untouched by time, and her figure gave no hint she was the mother of a twelve-year-old boy—more like a high school girl. She was actually in her early thirties.

“When I go to middle school next year, you’ll have to go back to Hokkaido to be with your father.”

Kyosuke stepped into the kitchen to prepare a vegetable salad. This “beautiful idiot” mother of his was only really good at handling beef; she hardly knew how to cook any other home dishes.

Before Kyosuke’s father, Ichiro Hojo, was called back by his grandfather to inherit the family ranch, he had been the stay-at-home dad while Mikiko worked.

Though the grandfather never restricted his freedom after his return, Ichiro realized the elderly patriarch was struggling to manage the ranch alone, so he stayed to help run it.

Originally, Ichiro planned for the whole family to move back, but Mikiko refused, worrying that transferring Kyosuke, then in fourth grade, would be detrimental to his growth.

Thus, Mikiko, who had been living a pampered life, stayed alone in this small northeastern Tokyo suburb, Mizumon City, raising her son by herself. Though Kyosuke’s maternal grandparents wanted to help, or even move in to assist, Mikiko declined.

“This is my son’s precious childhood—I can’t share it with anyone else.”

Said the beautiful but clumsy mother, who was fumbling her way through learning how to be a housewife from scratch.

Fortunately, by fourth grade, Kyosuke could handle most household chores himself—even cooking meals after school and preparing lunch for his mother the next day.

Over the years, the only thing Mikiko truly mastered was cooking beef, thanks to the steady supply of meat sent from Hokkaido by Ichiro. Even during off-season, his father would send beef, worried they might go hungry.

After so many shipments, Mikiko once asked Ichiro what was going on, and he would come up with all sorts of fantastical excuses—like the cows sprained their legs during a race, or got depressed, or had heartbreaks and didn’t want to live—to amuse her.

Sometimes Kyosuke worried that his father might get a good beating from his grandfather, as the family ranch was quite small and probably couldn’t support his father’s antics. Yet so far, no distress signals had come from him.

It was this tender care from both father and son that allowed Mikiko to maintain a youthful, carefree spirit at an age when most housewives were weighed down by daily worries.

Hearing her son’s words, Mikiko hurriedly turned away from chopping beef to look at Kyosuke.

“Hey, Kyosuke, didn’t we agree that after you graduate elementary school, we’d all go back to Hokkaido together?”

“There are some special reasons. It might be better for you and Dad to have some time alone.”

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“Time alone? But your grandparents and relatives are all there, aren’t they?”

“True enough. Anyway, I’ll take care of myself. You should stay to keep Dad company.”

“No way. If you leave me here alone, Mom won’t be able to sleep, worrying so far away in Hokkaido.”

“What are you worried about?”

“Worried you might go hungry…”

Mikiko’s words trailed off as she looked at the nearly finished vegetable salad in Kyosuke’s hands, a sheepish smile spreading across her face.

“Anyway, I just don’t feel at ease! Even if you don’t go hungry, what if you run into bad people?”

“I can protect myself, and I have reasons to stay here.”

“Tell me those reasons first. Is it because of Sakurara?”

Confronted with her son’s potential romantic interest, Mikiko immediately forgot her worries about his living alone and instead became gossip-hungry.

“…”

Kyosuke felt a headache coming on—how had his silly mother suddenly become so perceptive? He frantically searched for a way to persuade her.

Should he tell her that there were two system-certified heroines and many supporting characters waiting for him to collect rewards here?

Of course not.

“Ha! I knew it!”

Mikiko said happily.

“In that case, how about moving the entire Yamauchi family to Hokkaido? Your grandfather can employ Mr. Yamauchi on the ranch, and you two can stay classmates in Hokkaido.”

Hearing this, Kyosuke lowered his head to carefully consider the feasibility of the plan. If it really worked, he wouldn’t refuse. After all, convincing his parents to let a twelve-year-old live alone was still too difficult. Who said financial power wasn’t a skill? As long as the goal was achieved, nothing else mattered.

“Mother, what if it’s not just Sakurara?”

Kyosuke tentatively said.

“Kyosuke! Do you know what you’re saying?”

Mikiko was shocked by her son’s words.

“Ha, ha ha, I’m joking. Let’s talk about this another time.”

Kyosuke gave a dry laugh.

After dinner, they both prepared for bed.

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