Just as Kuroba Akira was about to go shower, he suddenly remembered—Shiginomiya Shion didn't have a change of clothes.
"Oh right. Kobayashi-obaasan, do you have any clothes from your younger days lying around? If so, maybe she can wear those for now."
Shion was still in her school uniform. She couldn't very well wear the same sailor outfit after bathing… and obviously, going naked wasn't an option either.
Which meant they'd have to rely on Kobayashi Mika.
"I don't have anything a young girl could wear. Let her use your tracksuit instead."
"Huh? Then what am I supposed to wear? You're not seriously telling me to sleep in my school uniform, are you?"
As mentioned before, Akira only had two outfits: his school uniform and his gym clothes. His summer gym uniform—short sleeves and shorts—was already in the laundry. What was left was the long-sleeved jacket and track pants.
If he gave that set to Shion, he'd be left with just the winter uniform.
Sleeping in a winter uniform in the middle of summer? Forget it! He'd sweat himself straight into insomnia.
"Um, I can keep wearing the sailor uniform—"
"You've been wandering around for two days, haven't you? That outfit needs a wash."
"Ugh…"
Shion fell silent. Girls were sensitive about how they smelled, and she was the type who liked things clean. Continuing to wear the same clothes after everything… just wasn't going to cut it.
Seeing how troubled she looked, Mika sighed and turned to Akira.
"Stop fussing. I'll dig up something for you to wear. I think I still have a few of my old man's house clothes stashed away…"
"You kept Kobayashi-ojiisan's clothes?"
Mika, usually so unflappable, froze for a second at that question. She covered her eyes with one hand—almost as if hiding her embarrassment.
Typically, people pack away or discard the clothes of the deceased. But Mika had secretly kept a few of her husband's garments for sentimental reasons.
That one detail said it all: she still deeply loved her husband, and that love hadn't faded in the slightest even after his passing.
Embarrassed but honest, she gave up trying to save face and muttered:
"I couldn't bring myself to throw them away, okay? Got a problem with that?"
"Of course not! But if you had such good stuff lying around, why didn't you offer it earlier? I've been going to school wearing my uniform every damn day, you know?"
"You're not even a little bit superstitious, are you? Those are the clothes of the dead."
"What's to fear? Kobayashi-ojiisan is my role model—I respect him too much to mind."
"Hmph…"
Her only response was a snort, but the slight curve of her lips said otherwise—she was pleased.
When your husband is admired by others, what wife wouldn't feel proud?
With her hands behind her back, Mika started walking toward her room and waved Akira over.
"Come with me. I'll go look."
"Coming. I'll light some incense for Kobayashi-ojiisan while I'm there."
Akira followed her in. Just as he was about to disappear down the hall, Shion raised her hand timidly and asked:
"Um… Kobayashi-obaasan, may I come too?"
"Of course. My husband loved girls like you, Shion-chan. He adored his granddaughter more than anything."
"Thank you."
The two of them followed Mika into her bedroom on the first floor.
Inside was a small household altar dedicated to her late husband. A photo of Tokumasa sat framed above offerings of fruit, a cup of water, incense sticks, and a little spirit horse Akira had made using a chopstick stuck into an eggplant.
Normally, this altar wouldn't be there—it had been set up for Obon, the festival of the dead.
Obon, sometimes called the Ghost Festival, is basically Japan's version of Qingming. It usually takes place from August 13th to 16th. Even Japan's overworked office workers get time off for it, so it's often jokingly called "the working man's summer vacation."
Though the holiday had already passed, Mika hadn't taken the altar down. She still missed her husband too much.
Akira lit a stick of incense, and Shion followed with her own respectful bow.
After the offering, she finally had a chance to examine the photo. Tokumasa had a kind, friendly face and a warm smile—a truly gentle-looking man.
"Oh, found it. Knew I still had one of his old jinbei outfits."
In this case, jinbei didn't refer to a karate-fighting fish-man, but to a traditional Japanese loungewear set for men—light, short-sleeved, usually worn in summer. Like what you'd wear at a spa or hot spring.
Mika handed the clothing to Akira, but just as he reached out to take it, she held it back with a serious look.
"Don't you dare ruin it. And make sure you wash it properly after. Don't wear my husband's clothes with that filthy body of yours."
"I got it, okay?! So are you giving it to me or not?!"
"Ugh… fine, go. And after your shower, bring your tracksuit down for Shion-chan."
"Got it! On my way!"
Akira snatched the jinbei and bolted out of the room, leaving Shion and Mika alone together.
The atmosphere turned a little awkward. Shion sat stiffly, clearly not sure how to act.
"No need to be so tense, Shion-chan. Relax. Just treat this place like your own home."
"Yes, ma'am…"
"Sorry about earlier. I do have other houses elsewhere, and technically I could give you a place to stay—but I can't break the promise I made to my husband. You're not someone he asked me to help, so I just can't take you in as a member of the Kobayashi household."
So that's it… a promise.
Just like the one she'd made with Akira.
If it were her, she wouldn't want to break a promise either.
Realizing that, Shion smiled softly and said:
"It's all right. I understand. Kobayashi-obaasan, you must've loved your husband very much."
But instead of showing happiness, Mika gave a wry smile.
"My feelings were complicated. Love and hate, both. But I guess in the end… the love outweighed the hate."
Shion blinked. That answer surprised her. From how Mika had lovingly preserved her husband's clothes, Shion had imagined her to be the kind of woman—like her mother—who gave everything to love.
But maybe… that wasn't the case?
"Huh? But why hate? Wasn't he your husband?"
Mika's expression instantly shifted. Her fists clenched.
"Of course I hated him! Just thinking about it still makes my teeth hurt! Good thing he's dead or I wouldn't even be able to say this out loud. Do you have any idea how many women I had to fight off because of him?!"
"U-Um…"
"Don't let his sweet face fool you. That man could talk. I could tell stories about his escapades for three days straight and not run out! Affairs with widows back in school, living with geisha, rumors of multiple 'local wives'…"
"Kobayashi-ojiisan… was really like that?"
"Unfortunately, it's all true."
"..."
Shion's face was blank, but her heart was reeling.
So much for the noble, wise grandfather figure…
Turns out he was a total playboy.
"But in the end, I won!" Mika declared, thrusting up her left hand to show off the platinum ring on her finger.
"I got to keep the Kobayashi name. That's something I fought for."
"You're amazing, Kobayashi-obaasan…"
"Which is why you better stay sharp, Shion-chan."
"Huh? Me?"
"I see a bit of him in that boy. If you really like that brat, you'd better keep a close eye on him. Or you'll regret it later."
Ah yes—the wisdom of experience.
Kuroba Akira, who hadn't even had the chance to become a scumbag yet, was now officially labeled: Scumbag-in-Training.