Chapter 53: That’s Hardly What You’d Call Normal, You Know?
“Light Jobs, you say…”
On the other end of the call, Mother fell silent.
Not an immediate silence, but the kind that came from careful consideration. I could almost picture her lowering her gaze slightly, one hand resting against her cheek as she organized her thoughts.
Five seconds passed.
Then, apparently having reached a conclusion, she spoke.
“Gouto. You’re having dinner with your father right now, aren’t you?”
“More accurately, Father has stepped away from the table for the moment.”
“I see.”
Her tone carried the faint impression of someone saying, Well, that explains everything.
After that, she answered without hesitation.
“Then I’ll put it simply. Yes, I know about it. Exactly as you’ve imagined.”
Well.
As Mother herself had said, it was exactly as I had imagined.
I had promised Father that I would never reveal the existence of Light Jobs to Mother.
And I intended to keep that promise.
After all—
You couldn’t leak information to someone who already knew everything.
“While we’re on the subject, how much do you know?”
“I would like to say only its existence, but unfortunately that would be inaccurate. I know virtually everything. If a problem were to occur, I’d need to be able to respond immediately.”
“You expect problems to occur?”
“They’ll occur when they occur. That’s true of any organization, regardless of size or purpose. Even the Kirishiro Group is no exception.”
Honestly, it was almost pitiable.
Father had been sneaking around nervously because he believed this little hobby of his was hidden from Mother.
Yet the reality was far crueler.
Not only had she known the entire time, she’d knowingly allowed him to continue.
He’d been swimming freely in a pool whose owner had been watching from the shore all along.
Still, there was one thing I couldn’t understand.
“If you knew about it, why are you willing to leave it in its current state?”
The improvements I’d proposed earlier were hardly revolutionary.
Mother would certainly have thought of them.
Father probably would have as well if he were looking at the matter objectively.
Unfortunately, when it came to Light Jobs, Father seemed incapable of remaining objective.
This wasn’t Kirishiro Retsuya, corporate titan.
This was Father.
The somewhat hopeless version reserved exclusively for family.
Mother knew the flaws.
She knew the solutions.
And yet she had done nothing.
Why?
“Can you truly not understand?” she asked. “Because I wanted to let your father do as he pleased. Is there any greater reason necessary?”
“…To be honest, I don’t really understand.”
I genuinely didn’t.
It wasn’t rational.
If I saw an obvious problem, I wanted to fix it.
If I knew a better solution, I wanted to implement it.
Why would someone knowingly allow inefficiency to continue?
As I silently waited for an explanation, Mother’s voice became strangely awkward.
“W-Well… because he’s adorable.”
“………………..Excuse me?”
That wasn’t a sentence I had ever expected to hear from Mother.
At least not directed toward Father.
It was a side of her she had never shown her children before.
“Watching Retsuya secretly gather his friends, believing I haven’t noticed, and enthusiastically devote himself to inefficient acts of charity… it’s adorable, isn’t it? Naturally I’d want to let him enjoy himself. At least until a problem occurs and he comes asking for help.”
“Adorable?”
“I happen to like that childish side of him.”
“…I see. You’re just bragging about your husband.”
“Gouto.”
Her voice sharpened instantly.
I could practically feel the glare through the phone.
Still, I couldn’t help feeling conflicted.
Of course, I’d always known my parents had a good relationship.
They argued occasionally.
Mother usually won.
But fundamentally, they loved each other.
There had never been any doubt about that.
As their son, I generally found it reassuring.
Yet hearing Mother casually describe Father’s secret charitable organization as something akin to a cute hobby…
That was new.
Apparently, the reason she loved him was even stranger than I’d realized.
“Still,” Mother continued, smoothly changing the topic, “I never expected you to discover it. How someone like you managed to become involved with Light Jobs remains a mystery to me. Frankly, I assumed your personality would have caused you to be rejected immediately.”
“It seems fate occasionally exists.”
“Let’s call it that.”
There were probably countless other things I could ask.
Questions about Father.
Questions about Light Jobs.
Questions about how much Mother truly knew.
But Father could return at any moment.
Which meant it was time to address the real reason for my call.
“Then, Mother. Knowing that you’ve intentionally left the situation alone… may I get involved?”
“…………”
She fell silent again.
If we used her earlier analogy, Light Jobs was Father’s secret hideout.
A hidden clubhouse he had built behind her back.
Mother had chosen to watch it from afar rather than interfere.
So would she really permit me to march in and start converting that clubhouse into an underground fortress?
That was the most important question of this conversation.
“Since you’ve discovered everything on your own,” she finally said, “it would be inappropriate for me to tell you what to do.”
“I see.”
“However, there’s one thing I’d ask.”
“Yes?”
“Please let him do as he likes whenever possible.”
The final sentence wasn’t spoken as my mother.
It was spoken as Kirishiro Leila.
As a wife.
Taking that into account, I gave my answer.
“If it looks like a serious problem is about to occur, I’ll help him a little. And when that happens, please don’t scold me if I accept some pocket money from Father.”
“Acceptable.”
Mother sounded pleased.
Very pleased.
In fact, her mood seemed to improve considerably.
“Although,” she added, “I suppose I should reward you for making it this far. I’ve heard you’re planning a summer trip with your friends.”
“Information travels fast.”
“Would you like me to cover the expenses?”
“Isn’t that a bit excessive? That’s not exactly normal.”
“We have several villas that aren’t being used. Leaving them empty is wasteful. If it bothers you, think of it as property management work. Paying you for that much would be perfectly reasonable.”
Well.
When framed that way, I could just barely accept it.
And with that, my confidential discussion with Mother came to an end.
Almost simultaneously, Father returned.
Judging by the satisfied smile on his face, he had apparently finished plotting with his fellow Long-Armed-and-Long-Legged benefactors.
“Gouto. We’ve decided to adopt your proposal. Thanks to this, our Light Jobs operation can aim for even greater heights.”
“Congratulations.”
I had absolutely no idea what “greater heights” meant in Father’s mind.
Then again, I still didn’t understand the organization’s core philosophy in the first place, so perhaps that wasn’t surprising.
Father sat down and took a sip of his slightly cooled soup.
That was when I spoke.
“In that case, Father. Effective immediately, I’m appointing myself Special Advisor to the organization operating Light Jobs. I don’t intend to interfere unnecessarily, but if I discover potential issues during audits, I’ll point them out without hesitation. Please keep that in mind. Also, I accept private consultations. If there’s something you’d rather discuss without involving Mother, feel free to contact me directly.”
“…Um, Gouto-kun?”
“Yes?”
“When exactly was that decided?”
“Just now.”
“Mmmm…”
Father looked up at me with the expression of a child whose prank had been discovered.
The exact same expression I’d seen recently at the orphanage.
A student nervously checking a teacher’s mood.
Except this student was a middle-aged man.
A very powerful middle-aged man.
“For the record,” I added, “you’re free to refuse.”
“Oh?”
“In that case, I’ll immediately report everything to Mother.”
“Gouto. I look forward to our partnership as business associates.”
“I’d rather not be entrusted with that responsibility, but I’ll do my best. Also, if you call this a business in front of Mother, she’ll hit you.”
Father visibly relaxed.
Apparently, avoiding Mother’s involvement remained his highest priority.
If he ever learned that not only had she known from the beginning, but that she probably understood the entire operation better than he did…
I wondered what kind of face he’d make.
Honestly.
When it came to family, Father’s defenses were alarmingly weak.
──────
“Kirishiro Retsuya”
Wife: Loves her, but she’s a little scary.
Eldest Son: Loves him, but he’s a little scary.
──────
The hallucination popped up again for no reason.
I really didn’t think Mother and I belonged in the same category.
Personally, I didn’t mind.
But Mother might become annoyed if she saw that assessment, Father.
A word of caution.
◇◇◇
A few days later—
“Anyway, Kuwajima. Here’s your Venetian mask back. It was useful.”
Having successfully navigated both the orphanage incident and my negotiations with Father, I returned the Venetian mask to its rightful owner.
Naturally, we weren’t meeting on campus.
Personally, I wouldn’t have cared.
Kuwajima, however, had made a rather complicated face when I suggested it.
As a result, we were currently standing outside her house.
Incidentally, I’d learned enough about her room to know I never wanted to go inside again.
For a girl’s room, it was astonishingly chaotic.
Though I had managed to confirm one important detail.
Her sewing kit was branded DRAGON.
“Uuuugh… it came back. I’d secretly hoped things would somehow work out so that Kirishiro-kun would buy it from me at an absurdly high price.”
“It’s yours. Treasure it until its true moment of glory arrives.”
“You genuinely believe such a moment exists?”
“Of course it does. No tool exists without a purpose.”
…Although, to be fair, a few items in Kuwajima’s collection seemed difficult to classify as useful even as decorations.
“Well, if it helped, that’s good enough. What was it again? You became the organizer of a death game? I admit I’d kind of like to see that.”
“I used it for that, among other things. Thanks to this mask, I secured our summer travel budget, lodging expenses, and several other costs. You don’t need to worry about the trip anymore.”
“DID YOU ACTUALLY ORGANIZE A DEATH GAME!?”
She stumbled backward.
“The money trail is way too suspicious for anything else!”
“How did you arrive at that conclusion?”
More importantly—
Was organizing a death game even profitable?
Thinking about it logically, the barriers to entry were absurdly high.
You’d violate countless laws.
To monetize such an event, you’d need wealthy individuals willing to ignore those laws and pay enormous viewing fees.
Most importantly, you’d require connections to extremely shady billionaires and reliable money-laundering channels.
Neither of which were things possessed by an ordinary university student.
Launching a death game startup from scratch sounded financially unsustainable.
“Rest assured, Kuwajima. I ran the numbers. Profiting from death-game management is difficult. From a completely ordinary perspective, it’s nonsense.”
“The fact that you calculated it before saying that’s terrifying!”
She grabbed her head.
“Could you please explain what actually happened?”
“Mother said we can use one of our family’s villas. She’ll even pay us for managing the property while we’re there. Therefore, you may choose our destination. Naturally, Taketsuru and Meiko will have input as well.”
“WHY DIDN’T YOU LEAD WITH THAT!?”
Despite her outrage, she looked delighted.
Swinging both her arms and the Venetian mask around, she practically radiated excitement.
Among all of us, Kuwajima was undoubtedly the one who dreamed most strongly about having a normal summer vacation with friends.
If not for the Venetian mask in her hand, she would have looked exactly like an ordinary college girl at that moment.
Watching her excitement, I casually remembered one particular hallucination that had appeared while I’d been browsing the list of villas.
So I decided to offer a warning.
“However, there’s one thing you should know.”
“Huh?”
“Depending on which location you choose, there’s apparently a possibility we’ll need a Holy Sword.”
“THEN REMOVE THOSE OPTIONS IN ADVANCE!”
“Absolutely not.”
“What do you mean absolutely not!?”
I refused to let mere hallucinations limit our choices.
Besides, unexpected trouble was a natural part of any completely ordinary university student’s summer vacation.
“Don’t worry, Kuwajima. Looking at it positively, as long as we have a Holy Sword, everything should be fine.”
“That’s not reassuring at all!”
She clutched the Venetian mask to her chest.
“For the sake of my completely normal—seriously, genuinely normal—summer vacation, I have to choose carefully…!”
That’s right.
Do your best, Kuwajima.
Among all those destinations, there were only three bad choices—
No.
Three good choices. Probably.