Goto Hitori went to work weighed down by exhaustion.
He hadn't slept well the night before—he'd spent the whole night barely dozing on the small couch. When he woke up, everything felt wrong: his neck ached, his lower back hurt. If shaking his head hadn't failed to produce that "my soul is separating from my body" sensation—and if his throat didn't feel fine—he might've actually thought he was getting sick.
Goto Ichika wasn't doing much better either. Hitori had wanted her to sleep in the bedroom, but she refused no matter what.
More precisely, she refused to sleep on the bed. Which meant that even though he was the homeowner, Hitori was the one curled up on the tiny couch.
As a fellow social phobic, Hitori understood perfectly: Ichika would rather suffer herself than trouble someone else. But because he understood, he wanted even more for her to rest in the bedroom.
In Hitori's eyes, Ichika was just a fifteen-year-old girl who'd suddenly been thrown into something as absurd as "getting isekai'd." Of course she'd be hurting inside—she was just too embarrassed to say it out loud.
As an adult, he should be more considerate. Notice, but don't press. Don't force a kid to feel ashamed.
Besides, there were extra futons at home. He'd even washed them that morning; by tomorrow they'd probably be dry. He only needed to put up with the living room for one night. Tomorrow he could sleep on the bed again. There was no need to argue.
But Ichika cared—deeply—about that "putting up with it."
To her, the idea that Hitori would inconvenience himself for her sake was something absolutely unforgivable.
In the end, Hitori had no choice but to steel himself and put on an angry face. Only then did Ichika finally go into the bedroom.
And then, in the morning, when he woke up and checked—
She hadn't slept on the bed at all. She'd spent the entire night tucked into some corner.
When Hitori got up early, she forced a smile and greeted him like nothing was wrong, scaring him so badly his heart nearly stopped.
Thankfully, the weather wasn't that cold. Ichika hadn't caught a chill. Hitori finally let out a long breath.
Just in case, he set out cold medicine for her, then made breakfast. He didn't stop moving until he was almost late, and he only just made it to the store by the last possible minute.
Thinking back on that whole morning, Hitori felt like the protagonist of Usagi Drop—the guy who ends up raising his own six-year-old aunt.
One moment, he'd been a painfully ordinary part-timer.
The next, he was basically a single father who had to raise a girl.
It felt a little rude to think of Bocchi that way… treating "another version of himself" like a daughter was hard to swallow.
But objectively speaking, he'd probably have to cover all of Bocchi's future expenses. Calling her "daughter-tier"… wasn't completely wrong, either.
If it was just meals, it wouldn't be too bad. Just one extra mouth. He could afford that.
Worst case, he'd stop ordering delivery and cook for himself.
But what about later?
He could support Bocchi right now, sure, but she wasn't going to stay a kid forever. He couldn't take care of her for life and turn her into a completely helpless adult. At the very least, he had to help her find a suitable job someday.
So… what kind of work suited someone with severe social anxiety—work that didn't require dealing with people?
A virtual streamer?
An online novelist?
Or going into Jump and becoming a manga artist on the level of Akasaka ■ and Akutami ■■?
No matter which path he imagined, it all looked bleak.
If only Bocchi could just keep going to school.
But with no ID documents at all, it'd be hard for her to go back to school in this world. And she probably didn't want to study, either.
So what was she supposed to do?
Surely she couldn't actually start a band… right?
If Bocchi failed at band life the way he had, then honestly, he'd rather just feed her and support her for the rest of her life.
Hitori felt a headache coming on.
Now he finally understood how his parents must've felt back then—watching him graduate high school, rot at home without any direction, and then eventually stumble into working out in society all alone.
"Senpai Goto, is something wrong? You look like you've got a lot on your mind."
At some point, his high school underclassman had slipped over again.
Unlike her usual twin-tails, today she wore a neat high ponytail.
Her hair was silver—smooth, glossy, and soft-looking. She carried herself openly, and that bright, youthful energy of a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old practically radiated off her.
Hitori let out a quiet "Ah." This time, he didn't subtly step away like he usually did.
Yesterday's chance encounter had made him like her more—she was pretty and surprisingly thoughtful. Still, he couldn't get used to the unusual level of respect she showed him.
From what he'd observed, she kept her distance from everyone else at the store.
Beyond basic greetings and work-related talk, she didn't say a single extra word. She was polite and gentle on the surface, but in reality she felt like an iceberg—cold enough to sting.
But with him, she was completely different.
She'd come over specifically to greet him. She'd offered to help on her own. And whenever she spoke to him, her eyes sparkled like they were full of stars…
Underclassman?
She felt more like a fan.
And the worst part was, she'd already confessed it outright the other day: she admired him so much that she'd even formed a band because of him…
Every time Hitori remembered that this poor kid had fallen into the "band hell" pit because of him, guilt gnawed at him.
And when he thought about how, even if her band failed, she still didn't blame him—still looked at him like a respected senpai—his guilt got even worse.
He didn't want her worrying about him, so he shook his head.
"It's nothing… I'm just a little tired. I'll be fine after I rest a bit."
"A little tired?"
Toyokawa Sakiko latched onto that phrase immediately.
"Is it because of your little sister?"
Hitori whipped his head toward her.
They said girls' intuition was sharp, but this was ridiculous. He'd only said one sentence—how could she guess that?
"So it is because of your sister."
Sakiko's eyes lit up.
She hadn't expected to hit the mark on the first try either. It really must be fate—destined to bring her and her respected Senpai Goto closer and closer.
"Is it that the clothes you bought yesterday don't fit? Or maybe she doesn't like that style and wants something simpler?"
"Ah… no. She likes them."
Hitori looked away, awkward.
The truth was, Ichika hadn't tried them on at all. Yesterday, the two of them had been too busy arguing about who should sleep in the bedroom. They hadn't even had time to check the clothes.
"If it's not the clothes, then what are you worried about, Senpai Goto?" Sakiko tilted her head in confusion.
"..."
Facing her sincere gaze, Hitori couldn't come up with another excuse to brush it off. In the end, he told the truth.
"…I'm worried about how we're going to get by from here on. Like… whether I should find some kind of side job."
His tone was timid, almost embarrassed.
"With my current pay, supporting two people in Tokyo is kind of tight. At the end of the month, I probably won't have any savings left.
"If I really can't handle it, I can ask my family… but if possible, I want to avoid spending more of their money…"
As he spoke, Hitori's mood sank lower and lower. The shadow effect that permanently lived under his heavy bangs seemed to deepen even more.
He'd gotten this job through someone he'd met at an izakaya—a guitarist with a similar situation. Hitori had seen her a few times back when he was still in a band, and their bands had even played opposite each other before.
He never expected that when they met again, that guitarist—someone who'd left a strong impression on him—had quit her band too, just like him.
She'd basically guessed Hitori would leave eventually. After recognizing him, she'd pulled him aside and chatted with him for a long time, bright and straightforward.
Maybe because they'd been rivals, or because they'd shared something similar, they'd gotten closer over time—coworkers and meal buddies for quite a while.
Hitori treasured that hard-won friendship.
But she still held onto dreams about being in a band. Not long ago, she'd said goodbye to Hitori and returned alone to Kawasaki.
Not long after she left, Toyokawa Sakiko came to the store and took over her position as Hitori's underclassman.
Sakiko didn't know any of that. Right now, she was struggling with how to help her respected senpai.
In the past, she might not have understood what "the bitterness of life" really meant. The only "hardship" she'd ever experienced in her life was Starbucks coffee.
But now she understood—completely—how difficult it was for ordinary people to earn money.
If she swapped places with Hitori—if a money-draining younger sister suddenly appeared at home—she'd be anxious too.
Could you just toss the hot potato back to his family?
If she'd run away from home, she obviously wouldn't want to go back.
And Senpai Goto was a gentle older brother. He probably wouldn't force her to return.
So if you couldn't send her back, then like he said… find a side job?
It was doable…
But what if the side job was exhausting?
One job was already tiring enough. If he took on some brutal labor job too, even if he managed to grit his teeth through it, his body would eventually give out.
And then one day he'd come to work, exhausted—and she might not even get a chance to speak to him. She'd only be able to watch from afar as he wore himself down…
No.
Absolutely not.
I came here to work because of Senpai Goto.
If I can't use this advantage—this perfect proximity—to get closer to him, what's the point of being here at all?
On the honor of the Toyokawa family, I will not allow such a low-level mistake to happen in my plan!
"Senpai Goto, please don't worry. I'll take responsibility and help you find a side job that's perfect in every way!"
"?"
Hitori hadn't expected her to be so enthusiastic—she was even offering to help him find a side job. He hurriedly responded.
"Ah… um, thank you, Toyokawa. But you already helped me pick clothes before. If I trouble you again—"
"Please don't say that," Sakiko said seriously.
"You're a senpai I respect from the bottom of my heart. If there's something I can do to help you, I'll be genuinely happy. How could I ever think that's a bother?"
S-So direct…
Hitori felt like a massive red arrow had pierced straight through his body.
If it were Sakiko, saying something so candid was natural. If it were him, he still wouldn't be able to say that even ten years from now.
Unless he was online—then it was different.
Back when he was still Guitar Hero, he used to make up "I'm totally a normie" nonsense under his videos all the time.
Like: he'd shone at the school festival and became the school's top star; he had a super pretty, super gentle childhood friend; she confessed to him recently and they started dating…
No.
Why am I remembering my dark history again?!
Forget it, forget it, forget it, forget it, forget it…!
Noticing his face twisting into that "features flying everywhere" expression again, Sakiko covered her mouth and giggled softly.
The first time she'd seen Hitori beneath the stage, she'd thought he was cold and distant—a man with skills so overwhelming they made others look pathetic, so of course he wouldn't bother talking to people beneath him.
But once she'd met him up close, she realized the person she admired wasn't that far away—and he wasn't cold at all.
He didn't talk to others because he wasn't good with people.
He looked hard to approach because he didn't know what to do with his expressions.
In this part-time job… no, to put it bigger—in everyone Senpai Goto knew…
Only she had seen with her own eyes just how interesting he really was.
"Senpai Goto, can I ask you something?"
Sakiko raised a small, pale finger.
"What kind of side job are you hoping for?"
"..."
Hitori thought carefully.
Of course, the side job he wanted was the kind with little work and lots of pay. The kind where you didn't do anything heavy and still got paid a lot. If possible, getting money for doing nothing at all would be best.
But saying that out loud was way too embarrassing.
He didn't want to lose face in front of an underclassman who admired him so much, so he "polished" the answer a little.
"Um… something like… tutoring?
"You don't have to deal with too many people, and the hours wouldn't be too long. And if you teach well, maybe the parents and the student will even thank you…"
He tried to imagine it: becoming a tutor who could turn a hopeless student into a genius—top of the grade in one go.
Then the tearful parents would seize both his hands and say it was a blessing of three lifetimes that their child met him—that he'd saved their child's life.
As he imagined it, his mouth pulled toward his ears, forming a stupid, goofy grin.
But he snapped back quickly.
He wasn't some legendary prodigy who could leap straight through the gates.
He hadn't even gone to college—he'd started working right after high school. And he'd already returned everything he learned in high school back to his teachers, completely. He didn't have the ability to teach anyone…
I'm really sorry for being bad at studying…
"T-Tutoring…"
Sakiko lowered her eyes in thought, then said excitedly, "Yes! That fits! Senpai Goto really is perfect for tutoring!"
"?"
Hitori was utterly lost.
He was one of the education system's escapees—how on earth was he qualified to teach?
To be a tutor, didn't you need an eidetic memory and superhuman comprehension? The ability to pull all-nighters for a few days and raise your weak subjects to University of Tokyo level? The power to produce dozens of pages of detailed planning reports for the parents without breaking a sweat?
But Sakiko looked completely confident.
"Please rest assured, Senpai Goto. I'm not lying. I truly think you're perfect for tutoring—though you might feel some resistance to it."
Resistance?
Hitori was even more confused.
Sakiko took a deep breath and said seriously:
"Senpai Goto… would you be willing to be a guitar teacher?"
-------
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