← The Studious Boy and the Secret Account Girl

Volume 3

Chapter 41: Tachibana Matsurika's Words Have Power

Chapter 41: Tachibana Matsurika’s Words Have Power

“Don’t you think you should have a proper talk with your stepfather?”

At Matsurika’s words, Tsutomu blinked in spite of himself. When he glanced over, her jet-black eyes held a serious gleam. The earlier atmosphere—in which she’d been sheepishly hiding her embarrassment over her blunder—was gone without a trace.

“No, I’m the one at fault here. Confronting my stepfather directly about this would be wrong, don’t you think?”

T/N: The japanese text uses the kanji for stepfather (義父 - gifu), but the readings notation, both for Matsurika’s and Tsutomu’s sentences indicate “father” (otou-san and chichi, respectively). I decided to keep “stepfather” for the sake of consistency.

The denial slipped out before he could think. He couldn’t bring himself to simply nod at the suggestion of talking with his stepfather.

“But you’re suffering, aren’t you, Kariya-kun?”

“…I’m not suffering at all.”

“You’re lying.”

He wanted to rebut her unilateral assumption. But he couldn’t. Matsurika’s suggestion probably had no basis, no logic, to it. Even so, her words carried an undeniable power of persuasion. Perhaps it was the serious aura she wore that made him feel that way.

—Damn it.

The solo living he’d begun when he entered high school had never been easy. Perhaps because he’d been handling housework since childhood, no individual task felt strange. Even so, for Tsutomu, managing every aspect of his own life—morning to night, twenty-four hours a day, every day—was intensely wearing on both body and mind. He also had to keep his nerves sharp against unexpected troubles that couldn’t be dismissed as remote possibilities, like falling ill or forgetting something. To be in a situation where no parent was nearby and he couldn’t immediately turn to anyone when something went wrong was a harsh environment for a child. Over this past year, he’d been thoroughly shown just how naive his initial outlook—it wouldn’t be much different from before—had been.

Even so, no matter how often his stepsister told him to come home, he never felt like going back.

At some point, going home had become a chore. It was painful to be confronted with the fact that the household ran better without him. It was agonizing not being able to pour out the murky feelings that churned in his chest—and frightening to think that pouring them out would put cracks in his family relationships. If he alone were resented, that would still be bearable. But he couldn’t stand the thought of his mother being blamed for having raised this kind of son.

“I am doing fine right now. I don’t want to make waves.”

The words that slipped from his mouth were bitter. An inexplicable discomfort clung to them as they passed through his throat. Giving them voice forced him to realize that they weren’t his true feelings.

Matsurika watched him from up close, intently. He could feel her determination not to miss even the slightest change in his expression. Then—her small, lovely lips, pressed together tightly, parted.

“The moment you’re being forced into a painful role, it’s not ‘doing fine.’”

The words she spun slid straight into the center of Tsutomu’s chest. Her voice had a clear, resolute ring—different from her usual irresistibly charming tones. It had the power to make him nod sincerely. He had no idea where that power came from. He felt something in her that couldn’t be summed up in a word like charisma.

“If something’s troubling you, say it out loud. If you don’t, your stepfather and your mother won’t know.”

The things that truly mattered should be put into words properly. Well, there were probably things you didn’t want to talk about precisely because you were family. But you’d know where the line was with common sense, right?

As Tsutomu fell silent, Matsurika added more.

“…”

“If you brood all alone and end up doing something that can’t be taken back, your family would be the pitiful ones afterward.”

If it came to light that Tsutomu had been forcing himself to endure all along, his stepfather and stepsister would be left with no place to stand. His mother would blame herself too—Why couldn’t I have noticed? Of course, expecting her to notice was unreasonable to begin with, since he’d kept his mouth shut. What were human mouths for? For conversing, obviously. Even if harsh words led to a fight, they could just make up afterward. That was what family was. Families weren’t formed by blood ties; they were shaped by connections of the heart.

“…Yeah.”

“Right? If you think your parents are good people, then you should talk to them all the more.”

Trusting someone meant exactly that, she thought. It was all right to burden them. There was no need to hold back. After all, Tsutomu was the child, and they were the adults—and, she would add, his parents at that. Don’t convince yourself all alone that keeping distance is for the best. Don’t say something as lonely as that.

“Because… you can talk to them properly, right? They’ll listen to you properly, right?”

As Matsurika’s earnest plea struck home, his eyes grew hot of their own accord. He took off his glasses, clutched his head, and hunched over on the sofa, squeezing his eyelids shut. If he let his guard down, tears would spill from the corners of his eyes.

“…You’re right. Maybe you’re right, Tachibana.”

He had never laid his feelings so plainly before anyone. He couldn’t tell his family, yet he could tell Matsurika. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t mind. Matsurika was speaking to him with genuine, sincere concern for his sake—even while taking into account the possibility that she might incur his displeasure and be thrown out into the rain. Her kindness, her nobility, her resolve—they soaked into his heart.

Something warm touched the back of his head. It was Matsurika’s palm. Her smooth, white hand slowly stroked his head. The dark emotions that had long smoldered in his chest were being washed away.

“Sorry, for saying something so intrusive. But, like, I couldn’t just stay silent.”

Matsurika’s voice had a warm tone. Tsutomu silently accepted her hand. It was soft and gentle. He felt no shame. Since his face had stayed turned down the whole time, at least she couldn’t see his expression. Even so, he couldn’t stop his shoulders from trembling.

Only the sound of rain, and the wind, came from outside the window. Utterly quiet, utterly calm, time flowed on.

“A family that sacrifices only you is wrong… and I don’t think your stepfather or your mother wants that.”

“You think so?”

“They’re both wonderful people, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I think they’d want you to talk to them. That’s absolutely better than carrying it all alone.”

Tsutomu inhaled and exhaled heavily, again and again… then quietly wiped the corners of his eyes and lifted his head. Behind the glasses he’d put back on from the table, his eyes were still a little damp, but he looked much like he had before.

“Thank you, Tachibana.”

“Mm.”

“I’m glad I could say it. I’m glad I could put it into words.”

He turned to face Matsurika, who had stayed beside him all this time. Her gaze was as serious as ever, with a stillness like the sea on a moonless night. If he stared into it, he’d be caught in the illusion of being drawn in. He wasn’t surprised by how close her flawlessly composed face was. It wasn’t that he’d grown accustomed to it, but right now, he felt no urge of sexual desire.

“Hey, don’t settle for that.”

A clenched fist thumped against Tsutomu’s chest. It didn’t hurt in the slightest, but the impact echoed deep, deep within him.

“You’re strict. But, yeah… maybe I’ll try talking to them next time I go home.”

“Why not just call them right now?”

Matsurika’s suggestion was made in an offhand tone, and the logic was perfectly sound. Whether he could simply accept it, however, was another matter entirely.

“Give me a break. I haven’t sorted through my feelings yet, and I’d rather talk about something like this face-to-face.”

“Really? I feel like going with momentum would be better.”

“Mgh…”

Matsurika’s eyes sparkled, bright like a clear night sky. Her seriousness had vanished somewhere, and now she was fixing him with the look of a little mischief-maker. Caught in that light, Tsutomu felt even less like calling. He wouldn’t say that to her face, of course.

“…Ah, well. As long as Kariya-kun has started looking forward.”

Matsurika stretched her back with a big nn~. Her soft breasts swayed deeply. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath on top, at least. He’d confirmed that earlier. So they swayed. Grandly. As if flaunting themselves. In fact, Tsutomu’s eyes were glued to them.

It rather ruined the mood, he thought, but having his tightly wound tension loosened wasn’t a bad thing… he’d tell himself that.

“Tachibana, you’re, um, big.”

T/N: it’s a bit confusing here. He uses 大きい - ookii/big, but it doesn’t necessarily mean physically large, like her chest. The Japanese text leaves it ambiguous.

He couldn’t believe they were the same age. Their caliber as human beings was different. It was no wonder so many students relied on her as a charismatic figure. He had to tip his hat. He had to admire her from the bottom of his heart.

“I don’t think you should say that while looking at my chest. Nn~, but… yeah. That’s very Kariya-kun.”

“You’re feeling better now.”

Matsurika giggled softly. It was an attractive, bewitching smile.

Tsutomu raised the white flag in his heart, thinking he could never win. He didn’t know what he’d be winning at, but either way, he couldn’t beat Matsurika. Even as he felt an overwhelming defeat, his heart was, strangely, clear and bright.