Kyou kara Ma no Tsuku Jiyuugyou!

“You look really good.”

Having been complimented by her son’s schoolmate, s.h.i.+buya Miko blushes in spite of herself.

“How mean~ Ken-chan! Who’d have thought that you were a master at b.u.t.tering people up too~”

“I’m not! Although the pattern is a bit outdated, but there’s a sense of Taisho period romanticism!”

These are his honest words. And besides, he’s not in the mood to get on his friend’s mother’s good side.

Because on the way here, he’s already lied to four teachers and a junior high friend, so by now he can’t be bothered to make up another lie.

“Ah, but still, but still~ I’m not young anymore, but I still want to wear a furisode[1]. That’s just too shameless of me, after all I’m already over forty and married. I was just thinking, ‘it’s about time to take out the winter clothing’, then I just happened to come across the kimono I used to wear when I was younger. And just when I was lamenting, ‘so even I used to wear such cute colors when I was younger’, suddenly a devil’s voice whispered in my ear, ‘Why don’t you try it on and see…’”

Mama s.h.i.+buya, also known as the ‘Pink Panther of Yokohama’, says lightly.

Of course, now she loves wearing cute clothes even more than she did in her youth, but these things have to be put aside for now.

By the time Murata had run to s.h.i.+buya’s house when his own school festival was reaching its climax, it was already past five in the afternoon.

He didn’t take a cab, just ran like that straight from the bus stop.

Although it’s already late autumn, the exertion heated him up enough to fog his gla.s.ses.

When he frantically pressed the doorbell like a child would, the one who responded was a dazed Miko in a kimono covered with huge lilies, saying, “Aiya, it’s Ken-chan!”

“At first I planned to have a daughter, then give it to her when she’s all grown up, that’s why I kept it in the closet. I never thought that I’d have two rough boys instead, life really doesn’t go your way all the time. Now all I can do is wait for them to get girlfriends, then give it to the girl once they’ve married her. Ah, but would it be too shameless for a bride to wear a furisode? Hmm—but if she’s in her twenties, it should be roughly OK, right?”

“It’s not roughly, it’s very OK. And even if you don’t leave it to s.h.i.+buya’s girlfriend, Jennifer, you can wear it yourself, it’s no big deal.”

Murata wipes his foggy lenses with the sleeve of uniform, replying sincerely.

But in his slightly guarded heart, he can’t help but resent his friend who hadn’t been clear with things.

s.h.i.+buya, how much have you told your parents?

Judging from his mother’s expression of happiness, Yuuri definitely hasn’t come out about being engaged to a pretty boy.

Even if the other party is as cute as an angel, he still comes with a stick.

And he even has an adopted daughter waiting for him in the city. Although he’s only sixteen, he’s already a single father.

If he were to say such an impactful truth, how interesting… no, how shocked this family would be.

The man who shares s.h.i.+buya Yuuri’s secret—Murata Ken thinks this in his heart.

This had better not come from my mouth, because I want to see how this family will react when they hear their own son say something so shocking.

“Come to think of it, Ken-chan, what’s up with Yuu-chan? Didn’t he come home with you today?”

“I’m here to talk about that, ma’am.”

Hearing the tone from her favorite detective shows, s.h.i.+buya’s mother grips her hands and frowns.

“W-what happened?”

“Things got heated between him and a girl from the same middle school, and now they’re even in a karaoke compet.i.tion!”

“A karaoke compet.i.tion?!”

“That’s right, singing Ozaki Yutaka’s songs too.”

“Such an old song! Ah. Sorry. Uh—uh—uh… Really? You’re talking about the Yuu-chan who only knows the various baseball team anthems? The Yuu-chan who firmly believes that ‘Take Me to the Ol’ Ball Game’ is a love song can sing mainstream songs now? People really can change with an effort.”

“If he wants to, he can probably sing ‘MY WAY’, too.”

“Of course, and even Kayama Yuzo’s version!”

Anyway, Murata tries to explain in brief words that Yuuri wants to report the results of the battle to him later, and thus may not even come home tonight, so he specifically asked him to come over and grab a change of clothes et cetera if possible.

s.h.i.+buya’s mother is rather surprised by the change in routine, but after hearing the whole story, she let Murata into the house eventually.

Murata climbs up the familiar stairs, and heads for the door at the end of the corridor.

It’s still someone else’s room that he knows fairly well, he can even tell roughly which things go where. Even if he has to find the necessary things, it won’t take him too long.

Just as he’s about to turn the yellow-copper doork.n.o.b—

“Wait a sec!”

Someone grabs his arm forcefully, and that’s not a friendly force.

Raising his head, he sees s.h.i.+buya’s brother. Murata smiles calmly,

“Hi, Big Brother…”

“We’re not close enough for you to call me big brother, friend of my brother.”

Looks like the eldest son of the family, s.h.i.+buya Shouri, is guarding the door for the second son.

Displeased eyes are looking down on him from behind the reflective lenses.

Although the two brothers look similar, the aura that radiates from them is completely different.

Murata replies with an unafraid smile,

“Then you’re too narrow-minded, brother of my friend. And you’re a college student, too.”

“So a high school brat is allowed to barge into other people’s room on their own? If you have even a bit of common sense left, then you shouldn’t do something like trespa.s.sing, right?”

“What do you mean, trespa.s.sing? It won’t sound good if anyone were to hear you.”

“Don’t worry, no one will. If there was anyone else around, I’d face you with a smile. After all, I’m a very friendly person.”

A well-rounded personality, excellent results, currently studying at Hitotsubas.h.i.+ University, the model student praised by neighbors, that’s the impression s.h.i.+buya Shouri gives.

According to his brother’s description, his brain might be good, but he’s a weirdo who’s obsessed with bishoujo games.

180 degrees different from the pa.s.sionate baseball boy second son.

“Even if you want to search the room, you have to wait until Yuu-ch… until my brother’s around. About that, where is Yuu-chan? Don’t tell me you threw him in a strange place and then ran back by yourself.

And he’s obsessed with his younger brother, too.

“s.h.i.+buya is heating things up with a middle high friend he hasn’t seen in a while, and the two are competing in karaoke…”

Of course, this is c.r.a.p too.

In reality he was in the middle of rescuing a WATER OLD BOY who was drowning in a cold swimming pool when he got swept away by an unknown current and vanished, probably to the other world.

Although Murata feels it’s still too early to go back, but if it’s Yuuri’s personal desire, then there’s nothing he can do about it.

Only this time, the path is filled with unease.

“…He’s not back yet.”

“What? Who are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about s.h.i.+buya!”

“Ah? But you just said something about him and a middle high friend? What do you mean, he’s not back yet?!”

No matter how many months he stays in that other world, normally he’d be back in a moment.

He normally only disappears for a few minutes, and before everyone else notices anything amiss, he’d reappear somewhere near the place he disappeared.

Although sometimes he’d be wearing G-strings.

“I waited five minutes, ten, and I still didn’t feel him come back.”

“Karaoke takes at least thirty minutes.”

“I’m not talking about karaoke!”

Seeing the brother of his friend completely at ease, Murata feels like punching the wall.

How much has s.h.i.+buya told his family?

For example, has he told his brother that he’s a mazoku?

But thinking about myself, I haven’t told anyone about the fact that my soul is the Daikenja.

But the head of this household is indeed a member of earth’s mazoku, so something like this must be casually mentioned over dinner…

“…I guess he probably wouldn’t say that he’s the maou, though.”

“Maou?”

s.h.i.+buya Shouri looks as though he’s seeing something intriguing, and then he once again crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Didn’t think that there was someone else who wors.h.i.+ps the Maou other than Bob.”

“It’s not wors.h.i.+p, I’m not talking about any religion… What did you say?!”

Murata abruptly raises his head, grabbing the other person’s s.h.i.+rt and shaking him hard,

“What did you say? You just said… You said ‘Bob’, didn’t you?!”

“Hey!”

There are a lot of Bobs in this world. When you say Bob, you could be talking about Bob Dylan, or David Bowie. There’s also the possibility that you mean Bobo Brazil. Right now, he can almost hear Yuuri saying, ‘Murata, how old are you?”

But if it was mentioned by the eldest son of this special family, it wouldn’t be surprising if he meant that Bob.

“You know Bob?! Then please help me contact him immediately, do you know where he is? This is urgent, I really need his help!”

“Wait a sec, your g-g-g-g-gla.s.ses are gonna fall! What’s the matter with you? Coming here and yelling Bob, Bob. Want me to contact him? I’m not a d.a.m.n secretary. Speaking of which, did something happen to Yuu-chan? How is he?! Before I get this clear, how can I help you?”

Murata takes a deep breath and swallows,

“Do you really want to hear? I think it’s better if you don’t know.”

“Is there anyone in the world who wouldn’t want to know about their brother?”

“Looks like you really do have a brother complex!”

Murata wants to laugh out loud, but instead he starts calculating at a ferocious speed. He has to determine where to start from as quickly as possible.

“If I tell you, will you help me contact Bob?”

“I’ll consider.”

Turning back the reel of memories, the last time he met Bob was in the last last life.

About the Second World War, when he was in his prime.

Come to think of it, ever since he was born as Murata Ken, he hasn’t met Bob.

This was all Bob’s fault, for being too preoccupied with the continuation of the earth mazoku line, and never contacting him at all.