All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

After hearing her mother’s suggestion, Megumi Kato hugged the jacket even tighter, as if she were holding the most precious treasure in the world rather than just a simple coat. ”No need, Mom, thank you,” she replied, ”I just switched to this one today. I wore my other jacket the last few days, washed it last night, and hung it out to dry. This morning, I woke up early to bring it in from the balcony.”

She told this little lie without so much as a blush. Megumi had become a skilled liar when it came to her parents, creating stories that seemed so logical and consistent that her parents found it nearly impossible to detect any untruth.

For instance, she knew her mother hadn’t done any laundry yesterday and had gone to bed early right after dinner, so it was easy to claim she’d put her previous jacket in the washer and dried it after her mom went to bed.

”Really? You washed it yourself?” Her mom looked a little surprised but accepted the explanation. ”Well, you can always leave that to me, you know,” she added.

”Sometimes, I just want to do my own laundry. If that’s all, Mom, I’ll go do my homework now,” Megumi replied smoothly.

”Of course, go ahead,” her mom said, pleased to see her daughter so dedicated to her studies. After seeing her recent grades, she was practically beaming with pride.

Back in her room, Megumi locked the door, tossed her bag to the floor, and dove onto her bed. She gingerly spread out Kotomi’s jacket, pressing it gently to her face.

Kotomi had a faint, unique scent of tulips, mixed with a hint of sweat from earlier. Breathing it in deeply, Megumi felt as if she were inhaling life itself.

”Kotomi... Kotomi... I like you so much... I want to see you all flustered and teary…” she murmured, clutching the jacket tightly, a blush of longing and intensity spreading over her cheeks.

Two hours later, Megumi finally placed the jacket back down. After putting her clothes back on, she went to wash her hands before settling back on her bed, pulling out the small voice recorder. She pressed play, and the recording of Kotomi and Arisu’s conversation started to play softly. She listened quietly, only to roll her eyes when she heard the two of them laughing together.

Just as Kotomi stepped into the teacher’s office, Megumi thought about fast-forwarding when a rustling sound made her freeze—then she heard Arisu’s voice, low and hostile:

”Did you think I didn’t notice you using a recorder? If you want to listen, then listen closely. But know this—only I can fill that empty place in Kotomi’s heart!”

Megumi’s heart skipped a beat, her expression darkening. She thought she’d been discreet, but somehow Arisu had noticed. When had she realized?

It was clear Arisu’s message was meant for her—a direct declaration of war.

As the recording continued, Megumi heard Arisu invite Kotomi to the aquarium on Saturday. Her fingers clenched as if holding a knife handle, her gaze icy with anger. But when Kotomi’s reply came, firm and clear in its refusal, a warm smile spread over Megumi’s face. It was a look full of tenderness and love, one she only ever had for Kotomi.

After the recording ended, Megumi put the recorder back in her bag, ready for the next opportunity she might need it.

Though she’d told her mom she would be working on her homework, she pushed her bag aside, not even bothering to pretend. Lying back on the bed, she gazed up at the ceiling and sighed softly.

”Kotomi’s popularity is honestly a little... troubling. All these gorgeous girls around her, and most of them seem to have feelings for her too,” she mused with a soft chuckle.

At the Izumi Residence

When Kotomi arrived home, she barely had her shoes off before the scent of dinner hit her—garlic and fried eggplant.

Though she disliked garlic on its own, she loved the flavor of garlic minced into sauce. And just from the aroma, she knew tonight’s dinner would include her favorite garlic minced pork with eggplant.

Slices of eggplant fried till soft and crispy, garlic and minced pork sautéed to perfection, with a hint of salted duck egg yolk, all topped with chopped scallions—she had once set a personal record of five bowls of rice with this dish.

Even though she generally disliked garlic and scallions, they seemed essential in this dish. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

There were times when Kotomi wondered why she enjoyed a dish with ingredients she typically avoided, but she didn’t dwell on it. To her, some things were best left unexamined—especially if they were delicious.

”Mom, I’m home!” she called as she pushed open the kitchen door.

”Welcome back! We’re having your favorite garlic minced pork and eggplant tonight,” her mom, Izumi Akina, replied cheerfully.

”Welcome home, Kotomi,” her father, Izumi Kaneyoshi, added as he helped her mother prepare the fish for dinner.

It was rare for her father to cook, but his steady, practiced movements showed that he was skilled in the kitchen.

Kotomi had heard stories about how her father used to do all the cooking when he and her mom were first married. Her mother, used to being doted on, had liked it that way—until the neighbors’ wives commented on her ”low domestic skills,” leaving her embarrassed.

After that, her mom had put great effort into learning to cook, sew, and clean, and eventually became the ideal ”model wife.” Her femininity skills had leveled up drastically, though Kotomi hadn’t been around yet.

And yet, when her father had time, he still enjoyed cooking with her mom, sharing the household tasks as they once did.

Seeing her parents there together, Kotomi grabbed her younger sister, Aimi, who had been watching TV in the living room. With a bit of pride, she announced, ”Dad, Mom, Aimi—I got my test results back.”

She handed her folded report card to her mother, eager to share the news.

Oh? The report card’s already out?” Akina said, a bit surprised as she took it from Kotomi. Although she knew grades were released today, she was still taken aback—typically, Kotomi would do everything in her power to avoid showing her report card. In fact, she’d often concoct excuses, like the school had forgotten to print her results or that she’d simply left them behind, even though it was always clear she was lying.

This time, however, Kotomi was voluntarily handing over her report card. The unexpected gesture left not only her mother but even her father, Kaneyoshi, who was preparing fish nearby, astonished.

”Am I seeing this right? My sister actually handed over her report card?” Aimi said in disbelief, rubbing her eyes as if trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

”It’s not that big of a deal, right?” Kotomi replied, a bit exasperated at her family’s reactions.

Akina took a deep breath, almost as if she were preparing herself to open Pandora’s box rather than her daughter’s report card. After gathering herself, she unfolded it, mentally preparing herself: Even if Kotomi’s scores are lower than expected, the mere fact that she’s showing her grades voluntarily is already a small miracle, and I won’t scold her no matter what.

With that in mind, she checked the ”Name” field first: Kotomi Izumi. It was typed in with no visible signs of correction fluid. At least she hadn’t borrowed someone else’s report card to pull off a trick.

Satisfied that it was her daughter’s, she moved to the score field, where she read: 1047 points. As long as she did slightly above average… Wait, 1047 points?!

She blinked, then looked back at the total score, thinking she must have read it wrong.

”W-What?! 1047 points? High school exams go up that high? Wait, this is actually my daughter’s score!”

”1047 points? You sure it wasn’t 947?” Kaneyoshi, usually so composed, pushed his glasses up and examined the individual subject scores.

The total was indeed 1047 points.

”947? If she’d scored 574, I’d already be proud enough!” Aimi, who’d just taken a sip of water, almost choked at the number.

”Ugh… I bit my tongue,” she muttered, moving over to peer at the report card. Sure enough, it really was 1047 points!

”Kaneyoshi, our daughter scored so high, I feel like my head’s about to explode! I think I’m going to faint! Could you check what’s written next to the score in red?” Akina covered her forehead, sounding weak with shock.

Kaneyoshi caught her before she could faint, glancing at the red text written beside the score:

—First in Tokyo!

”Dear, if I’m reading this correctly, it looks like our precious daughter placed first in all of Tokyo,” he said with a steadying hand on Akina’s shoulder, and then, perhaps to clarify, he added, ”You know, even higher than just first in her school.”

Akina gasped, so overwhelmed that she nearly forgot to breathe.

”Mom! Mom! Don’t scare us like that! Breathe!” Aimi shouted, worried.

Akina let out a gasp of air.

It was loud.

Thankfully, the walls of their house were soundproof.

”Kotomi, did you… did you cheat on this exam?” Akina asked, glancing down at the report card in disbelief. Her beloved daughter had always been cute, with a bit of a clumsy side, possibly from the fevers she used to get as a child. She’d never scored perfectly on anything before, not even kindergarten tests.

Akina moved closer to Kotomi, cupping her face and tilting it this way and that, squishing her cheeks and examining her like she was a mysterious creature.

”Everything seems the same—still my soft, lovely daughter. So how did she suddenly get first in all of Tokyo?” she muttered.

”Mom, I really am your daughter…” Kotomi said, her words a bit muffled under her mother’s hands.

”Akina, enough. Let her go before her face gets all wrinkled,” Kaneyoshi said, gently pulling her away.

”My sister, first in Tokyo? If this were a food-eating contest, then sure, I’d get it! But this was a high school exam!” Aimi was clutching her mouth in shock, tongue sore from biting it again.

”What if… we asked the teacher?” Kotomi suggested with a small shrug.

Before she could finish her thought, Akina cut her off.

”No need! You’re my daughter, and I know you didn’t cheat! Besides, if this score were impossible for you, I’m certain you wouldn’t be standing here showing us your report card,” she said with a loving smile. ”Isn’t that right, Kaneyoshi?”

Kaneyoshi gave an understanding nod. ”It might seem unbelievable to some, but you’re our daughter. We know exactly what you’re capable of, so we’re proud of your score.”

With that, he pointed out the frying pan to Akina. ”The eggplant, dear. It’s about to burn.”

”Oh no, my eggplant!” Akina yelped, rushing over to turn off the stove, only to see that Kaneyoshi had already taken care of it.

Watching her parents’ usual, familiar routines, Kotomi stood quietly. She’d been planning on how she’d explain her score, yet in the end, she hadn’t needed to explain anything—her parents trusted her completely.

They had always been like this: never pressuring her to be outstanding but always quick to believe in her when she did well, and giving her praise without any reservation.

That was the way of her parents.

Kotomi felt a rush of emotion and blinked rapidly, hoping no one would notice the slight glistening in her eyes. Just as she thought to brush it off and hide her reaction, Aimi’s voice piped up from the side.

”Wow! Onee-chan has finally smartened up! She’s not a goofball anymore!”

”I was never stupid to begin with!”