619 – Eriri: “Maybe I Really Am a Genius”

“Eriri, can you answer me honestly?”                                  

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Is studying tiring? Is being a student stressful?”

“Not really. Aside from having to wake up early—which is kind of torture—everything else is fine. I don’t really feel any pressure.”

“Are you good at studying then?”

“…”

The blonde “princess,” who had been radiating a wise and mentor-like aura, suddenly froze.

Her expression darkened as she snapped, “Why are you asking that? That’s not something a kid your age should worry about!

You shouldn’t be wasting your precious childhood thinking about grades!”

A tiny hand pressed against Eriri’s chest.

“Eriri, you have to be honest.”

“…” Eriri pursed her lips.

After some painful inner debate, she decided that admitting her “academic misfortune” to a mere three-year-old wasn’t the end of the world.

So she straightened her back, lifted her chin proudly, and declared crisply:

“I’m terrible at it!”

“I see,” said Hojou Kasuko thoughtfully, one hand still on Eriri’s chest and the other rubbing her chin like Yukinoshita. “So if you’re bad at studying, that means you don’t feel stressed or tired. Makes sense.”

Eriri’s face went pale.

No way was she going to let “bad at studying” be equated with “carefree and happy”! What about all those poor souls who studied their hearts out and still couldn’t improve?

“H-Hey! Hold it right there! Being relaxed or not has nothing to do with how good your grades are!”

A fiery sense of purpose welled up inside her—she wasn’t just defending herself; she was fighting for all the “academic underdogs” out there!

She had to make sure Kasuko grew up with the right mindset: effort doesn’t always equal success!

After all, look at her! Even if she tried harder nothing will change, she’d still be happier doing absolutely nothing!

Kasuko, however, only stared at her with wide, suspicious eyes.

Her already low trust in Eriri was now hanging by a thread.

“It’s true! And being bad at studying isn’t a bad thing!” Eriri protested, waving her arms.

“See, when you’re bad at it, your brother comes to tutor you! You have no idea how nice that feels!”

Trying to sound convincing, Eriri launched into a boastful recount of how Kyousuke had comforted and encouraged her at the family restaurant last time.

Amazingly, she remembered every sweet word he’d said—down to the last syllable.

By the time she finished describing how “Kyousuke gently held her hand and patiently explained the question,” Kasuko’s eyes were practically sparkling with envy.

She swallowed hard, clutching Eriri’s shirt tighter, staring up at her with pure admiration and longing.

‘Ha! Still think being bad at studying is a bad thing now?’ Eriri’s pride soared.

Her vanity had never been so perfectly satisfied.

She went on bragging even more—talking about how she couldn’t remember a single English word no matter how hard she tried, and how Kyousuke would repeat it to her every time they met…

From that point on, Kasuko kept gasping in awe, drooling a little even, as Eriri continued listing all the “wonderful compliments” she’d received because she was such a hopeless case.

Sure, her big brother was nice to her too—but she’d never been praised that much!

Maybe… maybe being dumb really was the key to happiness!

And thus, a very dangerous “theory” took root in little Kasuko’s mind.

Watching all this unfold, Utaha couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore.

She mentally vowed never to let her future child interact with Eriri.

Actually—scratch that—she’d better avoid breathing the same air as Eriri, lest she catch her stupidity!

Just as Utaha was debating whether she should step in to save poor Kasuko from being led astray by the “Church of Eriri,” something unexpected happened.

Kasuko wiped her mouth, furrowed her tiny brows, and said seriously:

“I still want to be a smart kid.”

“Huh? Why?” Eriri blinked. “Don’t you want your onii-chan to tutor you?”

“I do. But it’s not necessary.”

Hearing a three-year-old say “not necessary” made Utaha burst out laughing.

Truly, Aunt Mikiyo’s parenting was top-tier.

Eriri, on the other hand, was stunned.

Before she could say anything, Kasuko continued solemnly:

“Onii-chan comforts and praises you because you’re bad at studying. He’s too kind to tell you you’re dumb, so he compliments you instead. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“…”

Eriri’s lips quivered.

Her big blue eyes drooped pitifully as she glanced around the room—only to see a certain brunette laughing behind her hand.

‘Kyousuke, Kyousuke! Your little sister is bullying me! Come control your sibling!’

Her disguise shattered, Eriri looked utterly dejected. But still, she stubbornly mumbled:

“B-but Kyousuke still praises me…”

And oh, how lovely those praises were.

She had even drawn that moment in her journal—the family restaurant, the gentle words, the soft light… everything.

“If I study really, really well,” Kasuko said proudly, “then Onii will praise me too!”

‘Well said, Kasuko!’ Utaha silently applauded.

Before Eriri could make a comeback, Hojou Mikiyo descended from upstairs like a benevolent empress, surrounded by a few smiling girls.

After calmly listening to both sides’ “testimonies,” she gently patted their heads and said kindly:

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little dumb. Look at me—I can only cook steak, but I still get to enjoy delicious meals every day.”

Hearing that, Eriri immediately straightened up, looking smug.

Of course! She couldn’t cook either, yet she always got to eat Kyousuke’s amazing food.

Aunt Mikiyo was totally on her side!

“But,” Mikiyo continued, “there’s also nothing wrong with being smart. If your brother tutors you, and you pretend you just learned something new, won’t that make him even happier?”

Kasuko’s eyes lit up.

That’s it! That way, her brother wouldn’t feel awkward—and she’d get two rounds of praise: once for “not knowing,” and once for “learning it!”

Kasuko wins twice!

Eriri pouted.

‘Tch, as expected of Aunt Mikiyo—clever and cunning to the core.’

But that trick wouldn’t work on her!

Because Sawamura Spencer Eriri was, above all, an honest girl.

If she didn’t know something—she really didn’t know it.

No amount of pretending could save her.

Even Kasumigaoka Utaha, who was sitting beside her, was listening with sparkling eyes, her long lashes fluttering slightly.

She was clearly plotting something.

Meanwhile, little Kasuko tilted her head, confused.

Why were Sakura and Naoka both staring at Shouko?

And why was Shouko covering her face with her hands?

‘Mom’s talking about something important,’ Kasuko thought with mild exasperation. ‘Shouldn’t everyone be paying attention?’

And then there was Yukari—why was her face so red, her eyes darting all over the place like that?

Of course, each girl’s mind was off wandering somewhere entirely different.

Shouko was remembering all those times when Kyousuke had helped her practice speaking—how she’d already learned the words but kept pretending she hadn’t, just to hear him say “I like you” one more time.

Yukari was remembering how her sense of taste had already returned, yet she continued to fake it, savoring every bite Kyousuke fed her as if she were still recovering—because the way he treated her then was simply too sweet to give up.

As for why Kasuko and Eriri had started talking about studying in the first place—well, it was because Kasuko was about to enter kindergarten soon.

And getting into kindergarten in Japan isn’t exactly easy.

Sure, people always talk about the low birth rate and aging population—but that doesn’t mean kindergartens have lots of openings.

Bureaucrats still want to keep their budgets for… let’s just say “more luxurious” purposes.

So instead of cutting political perks, they shut down preschools, claiming there “aren’t enough children” to fill them.

In reality, that often forces mothers to stay home—not because their families are rich, but because they have no choice.

The “Crayon Shin-chan” fantasy of sending your kid to kindergarten, then relaxing at home with snacks and TV, is… well, something a lot of people wish they could do.

There are two kinds of kindergartens: public (government-certified) and private.

Public ones are hard to get into—there are few schools, lots of kids, and long waiting lists. Children with two working parents get priority.

That means kids like Shin-chan, whose mom is a full-time homemaker, might never get into a public preschool before elementary school.

It sounds ridiculous but the system’s logic holds: if you can take care of your child at home, you’re pushed to the back of the line.

Of course, that logic collapses when you realize moms can’t work without childcare in the first place.

Private kindergartens, on the other hand, are simple: if you can pay, you can play.

The quality also varies wildly—some are excellent, others are, well… “mafia-owned” levels of sketchy.

Public schools only accept new students in April if you miss that window, and you have to wait a whole year.

Thankfully, Kasuko would be enrolling back in Hokkaido, not Tokyo.

Up there, schools were begging kids to enroll—principals worried they might get shut down from lack of students. Now that’s what low birthrate really looks like.

Being the wise little girl she was, Kasuko decided to “research” her future academic life—by interviewing her older sisters.

And, naturally, her first choice was the most school-averse one of all: Sawamura Spencer Eriri.

After all that excitement, the “debate” was finally ended thanks to her clever mother’s wisdom.

By then, Kasuko’s stomach was growling.

She hurried off to the kitchen, grabbed the lunch that Kyousuke had prepared for her that morning, and ran back with tiny stomping steps.

“Hey, Kasuko-chan, can you let your big sister have a bite?” Eriri asked sweetly.

“No.”

“Why not!?”

Kasuko gave her the kind of look you reserve for someone who’s said something monumentally stupid, and said flatly,

“Because I’m still eating.”

“…”

Hearing that Eriri froze—then, somehow, that perfectly logical answer completely disarmed her.

But she wasn’t about to lose!

When it came to shameless persistence, even Sakura would have to kneel before her!

“But Kyousuke always lets me have some,” she said while half-pouting and half-bragging.

Every time Kasuko showed that tiny spark of envy, Eriri couldn’t help but feel an almost wicked sense of satisfaction.

She wanted to boast about every single thing she’d ever shared with Kyousuke, no matter how trivial.

In fact, she’d recently asked her mom about it—confessing that she might be acting childish, getting jealous over a three-year-old.

Her mother Sayuri, in her usual elegant honesty, agreed: “Yes, that’s childish—but not unusual.”

Of course, Eriri refused to accept that answer.

After a lengthy self-analysis session, she concluded proudly:

‘I’m not jealous—I just enjoy having what she doesn’t. That’s completely different!’

Kasuko, meanwhile, was about to dig into her fluffy soufflé when Eriri’s shameless words hit her ears.

Her big round eyes flared in righteous anger.

“That’s because you bullying my brother! But now that I’m here, I won’t let that happen again!”

For a moment, Eriri said nothing, looking left and right.

Then she lunged forward and scooped up half of Kasuko’s soufflé in one swift motion.

“Mmph! Hmph! Mmm~!” she mumbled triumphantly, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel.

Kasuko stared blankly at her plate, then at Eriri’s bulging mouth, then back at the plate, then back at Eriri.

Her lip trembled.

As the floodgates were about to burst.

Eriri froze.

‘Oh no.’

“Eriri, honestly… do you even know what you just did?”

Yukari appeared just in time, gently pulling the little girl into her arms.

Kasuko didn’t cry right away, but started rattling off a passionate, tearful list of Eriri’s “crimes.”

Meanwhile, Eriri stood there, horrified.

‘Why didn’t Shouko cry when I stole from her? Or Naoka? Or Utaha?’

She didn’t get it—but she panicked, sprinted to the kitchen, grabbed her own dessert, and dashed back.

‘Thunk!’
She slammed her plate down in front of Kasuko and flashed a peace sign, meaning:

‘See? I took half, now I’m giving you double back!’

Kasuko peeked at the plate, fork in hand, inspecting it carefully.

Her expression shifted from gloomy rain to cloudy skies.

‘Cloudy?’ Eriri frowned. ‘Why cloudy?’

“Eriri took one of my cakes and gave me two back,” Kasuko said seriously.

“Right!” Eriri nodded eagerly.

“One plus two equals three,” Kasuko continued, tilting her head. “So shouldn’t I have three cakes now?”

“Eh???” Eriri blinked, completely thrown off.

Yukari couldn’t help it—she laughed, brushing Kasuko’s hair back.

“Well, looks like our Kasuko’s a little math genius,” said Sakura, grinning as she leaned over. “At this rate, she might win a Nobel Prize someday!”

“There’s no Nobel Prize for math,” Utaha interjected dryly.

“Then she’ll just invent one before winning it,” Sakura shot back. “That’ll prove she’s a real genius!”

But Kasuko wasn’t done.

She frowned again.

“Why isn’t there a Nobel Prize for math?” she asked, though she clearly had no idea what either “Nobel” or “math” meant.

“I know, I know!” Eriri raised her hand. “Because Nobel was bad at math too!”

Sakura burst out laughing, jumping on Eriri’s back.

“Hehehe, maybe you really are a genius, Eriri~”

“What do you mean by that!” Eriri sniffed, puffing out her cheeks.