All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

When Kotomi Izumi got home, Akina Izumi noticed she was carrying a paper-wrapped box and asked curiously, ”What’s this?”

”Donuts. Want to try one, Mom?”

Akina shook her head with a helpless sigh. ”It’s almost dinner, and you still brought back a whole box of donuts? Just because you earn royalties every month doesn’t mean you can spend so freely.”

Kotomi gave an awkward smile. When her mom scolded her, she wouldn’t say an extra word—her attitude when admitting fault was always sincere. Whether she would change, though, was another matter.

Akina knew Kotomi looked obedient but was actually quite slippery. Seeing that her mom didn’t continue, Kotomi spoke up: ”After school, I came back with Yui. We happened to pass by her family’s cake shop, so I thought I’d give them some business.”

”Yui Yuigahama?”

Akina remembered her well. Last time, why had she hit Kotomi? Even though she’d hit her for ages, this little brat hadn’t reacted at all—she’d even rubbed Akina’s wrist sweetly asking if she was tired.

It was because she’d gone to the Dango Cake Shop and seen Yui crying while reading a letter Kotomi had written. That’s when Akina realized this girl’s feelings for her daughter weren’t ordinary—at least, they couldn’t be just friendship.

If her daughter really was in a relationship, Akina wouldn’t break them apart. She was an open-minded mom. She’d talk to both of them first, explaining that love wasn’t a game and needed careful thought. If the feelings were mutual, she’d even be happy her daughter had found someone who loved her so early.

But Akina also noticed something odd—wasn’t it starting to feel like more than one person was in love with her daughter? And they were all girls!

Of course, Kotomi’s beauty could captivate anyone, male or female, at first sight. But wasn’t the number getting a bit high?

Megumi Kato, Yui Yuigahama, Iroha Isshiki… Shizuka Hiratsuka was uncertain. And there was a fifth… Thinking of the fifth made Akina sigh even more. She wasn’t blind—she could see it.

Kotomi thought her mom was upset again, so without a word, she set the box on the table, took off her coat, and scampered over with a pair of slippers.

”Mom, use these to hit me. Just bought them a few days ago. The last pair retired early thanks to you.”

Akina rolled her eyes and tapped her daughter’s head. ”Get out of here. Do I look upset? I just don’t get it—are you supporting Yui’s family shop because you love their sweets, or is there another motive?”

Kotomi raised an eyebrow and swore inwardly, but calmly picked a cherry from the fruit plate and popped it in her mouth. Sweet.

”Mom, if I say I just like sweets, would you believe me?”

”Ha! If I believed that, I’d have been a useless mother all these years.”

Akina took a deep breath. ”You and Megumi Kato, Yui Yuigahama, and Iroha Isshiki are all classmates?”

”The first two, yes.”

”And Iroha Isshiki?”

”She’s not in high school yet. She says she wants to go to Sobu High so she can keep teasing me. Once she gets in, then we’ll officially be classmates.”

”Alright. Since you’re insisting you’re just classmates, I’ll treat it as such when arranging things. I’m your mother. As long as you keep insisting you’re just classmates, I’ll keep things balanced.”

--

Kotomi could tell her mother’s words had a hidden meaning—”keeping things fair” was aimed directly at her.

”And another thing,” Akina emphasized, ”until you have the courage to take full responsibility for everything, don’t let those so-called classmate relationships change into something else!”

”….”

”That’s all. Just remember it—I’m going to make dinner.”

Akina didn’t give Kotomi the chance to reply. She knew her daughter might sometimes seem naive, but in truth, she was the kind of girl you could drop in an unfamiliar big city with only a little money and she wouldn’t just survive—she’d carve out her own path. Her cleverness and knack for strategy weren’t in academics, but in business and social maneuvering. Even most adults couldn’t match her.

”Mom, is there meat for dinner?”

”Of course. When do I ever make a meal without meat for you?” Akina laughed, then casually took a sugar-glazed donut from the box and bit into it. ”Sugar glaze again? Is that the only flavor you like? Dango Cake Shop’s desserts are good—I like them.”

”I like them a lot,” Kotomi replied with a smile.

When her mom headed to the kitchen, Kotomi bit into a donut, picked up her bag and coat, and went upstairs. Passing by Aimi’s room, she saw the door open. Aimi was at her desk, head down, studying hard for the high school entrance exams. Kotomi smiled softly and moved on without disturbing her.

In her own room, dressed in pajamas, Kotomi immediately replied to Mrs. Yuigahama’s message.

[Thank you so much for the congratulatory illustration for Volume 1’s release! Even though we never discussed what to draw, you nailed my taste exactly. Is this telepathy?]

[I went through all of Volume 1’s illustration requests from start to finish—don’t I already have a general idea of your preferences?]

Perhaps because of her work as an illustrator, Mrs. Yuigahama had a young mindset. Talking with her never felt like there was a generation gap.

[You know my preferences?]

[Of course. You love beautiful girls in stockings. In the character design documents you sent me, every female character was wearing them. Nearly half of the main illustrations focused on the heroine’s chest, feet, or legs. You especially like pantyhose, in black or white. In Sword Art Online, whenever you could, you wrote long, detailed descriptions of the female characters’ legs or feet—sometimes taking up two-thirds of a chapter.]

Kotomi scratched her hair with a fingertip, feeling embarrassed at being called out so bluntly.

[Haha, enough teasing. Kotomi, are you free this weekend? Let’s find a place to discuss the illustrations for Volumes 2 and 3. Volume 3 will have a special edition—your first ever—so we can’t afford mistakes. Bring your new work’s outline and manuscript too; I want to see if it still has your signature style.]

[I’m busy this weekend… both Saturday and Sunday.] Kotomi sighed. Saturday she’d be out shopping with Megumi Kato, and Sunday she was going to karaoke with Yui Yuigahama.

[Ah? But Yukino the editor needs the first drafts for the Volume 3 special edition box, bonus cover, and acrylic keychain by next Wednesday.]

”Why’s Haruno in such a rush this time?” Kotomi muttered, then remembered she’d mentioned Dengeki Bunko planned to release Volumes 2 and 3 together. That explained the urgency.

But this weekend really was packed…

In the end, Kotomi typed: [How about Friday night at your place?]

[Friday night at my house? Sure. But Yui and Yuka will be home, so we’ll have to be very careful not to get caught!]

[Agreed.] Neither of them wanted their respective daughters to know about Kotomi’s writing or Mrs. Yuigahama’s illustration work.

With Friday set, Kotomi opened her computer to print the outline and manuscript for Redo of Healer. ”Since we’re discussing new works, why not bring more than one?” She opened a new document and began typing another outline.

Besides Redo of Healer, Kotomi planned to bring two more: one she’d long wanted to write—Mushoku Tensei—and another she had just decided on.

She typed the title: The Testament of Sister New Devil.

The Testament of Sister New Devil, Strike the Blood, and High School DxD—these three light novels and their anime adaptations could be considered Kotomi’s gateway works.

She had to write them, and they absolutely needed R18 anime adaptations.

But there was one issue—if her light novels got anime adaptations, her parents and family would definitely watch them.

She imagined the scene: The Testament of Sister New Devil gets an anime adaptation, production is completed, and her family gathers around their phones, computers, or the TV, eager to see what Kotomi had written and how it looked in anime form.

The Izumi family had never produced an author before. Knowing her grandfather’s personality, he would probably gather the entire family to watch.

She could already picture it:

Harumari: ”Hahaha, everyone’s here, right? My granddaughter’s novel got turned into an anime! And to think someone once said the Izumi family only knows how to make money—look, Kotomi is now a famous author! Well, it’s almost time, Butler, bring out the good food and wine!”

Yakken turns on the TV. Everyone waits expectantly, ready to see just how exciting the story is in the anime adaptation.

The title appears: The Testament of Sister New Devil.

And then… the content begins…

Smack! Kotomi slapped her forehead hard. She didn’t dare think any further. Mushoku Tensei was fine, but those three? If they got anime adaptations, it would be social death the moment her family watched them.

At least the titles weren’t too explicit, otherwise family gatherings would be a nightmare: ”Kotomi, I hear you’re writing novels. What’s the title?” She wouldn’t even be able to say it without stammering.

After some thought, Kotomi decided to stick to her style—she liked describing girls in stockings, she was a foot fetishist, her XP system was just weird.

Still, she needed to write a few literary-style works to prove she could do more than just lewd content—something heartfelt enough to make readers cry.

Most importantly, she needed to write at least one novel she could openly tell her family and friends about, so that when they asked for the title, she could answer without guilt.

Having decided, she continued working on the outlines and character settings for Mushoku Tensei and The Testament of Sister New Devil.

Meanwhile, after putting down her phone, Mrs. Yuigahama stretched, loosened her neck, and sat back at her tatami chair to continue drawing. She had converted a small section of her bedroom into her art workspace—narrow and simple, but perfectly sufficient.

She tapped a key, but nothing happened. She pressed again, harder this time, until it finally responded.

The white membrane keyboard was so worn that many keycaps had lost their printed letters. She couldn’t even remember how many years it had been—probably from the first family computer, back when it came as a freebie.

A free keyboard lasting this many years was bound to start failing eventually. She’d thought about replacing it, but it still worked, and new ones cost money, so she kept using it.

Knock, knock, knock.

Just as she was about to rest her eyes for a moment before continuing to draw, there was a knock on the door and Yui’s voice.

”Mom, can I come in now?”

Mrs. Yuigahama hurriedly switched off the light in her workspace, shut the partition door, and quietly sat on her bed, posing as if she’d just been lounging there playing with her phone.

”Come in.”

Only then did Yui Yuigahama open the bedroom door.

--

”Mom, I bought teriyaki chicken bento from the convenience store. Want to eat together? I’m a bit tired today and don’t feel like cooking.”

Everyone has those days each month when they just want to be lazy.

”It’s fine. You’ve been the one cooking for us all this time, Yui. Take a break today. Look at me—I’ve learned to balance work and rest too,” Mrs. Yuigahama said with a light laugh, patting Yui’s hair. She had originally planned to cook dinner for her two daughters today since she got home early.

But once she started working on Kotomi Izumi’s congratulatory illustration, she stayed in her little art corner until now, completely forgetting about dinner.

Thinking about this made Tomoka Yuigahama feel a pang of guilt. What child doesn’t look forward to a warm meal made by their mother after coming home? She resolved that tomorrow, no matter how busy the cake shop was, she would close early and cook dinner for her daughters.

During dinner, even though Yuka had already eaten a whole box of jumbo takoyaki, she still had an appetite—probably due to a growth spurt. She happily dug into the teriyaki chicken bento, only wrinkling her cute brows when she got to the broccoli and carrots, forcing herself to swallow them.

As a reward for eating her vegetables, Mrs. Yuigahama moved several pieces of chicken from her own bento into Yuka’s.

Since the bentos came with disposable utensils, there were no dishes to wash tonight.

”Mom, can I go out this Sunday?” Yui asked. Normally, she spent her weekends helping out at the Dango Cake Shop.

”Of course. You’re in high school now—you should spend more time with classmates and get involved in school life. You don’t have to help at the shop every weekend. In fact, I’ve decided that from now on, we’ll close the shop one day each weekend for rest.”

”Really? Thanks, Mom!” Even though Yui always volunteered to help, she was still a teenage girl—of course she wanted to hang out with friends.

”By the way, who are you going out with on Sunday? Where are you going? What time will you leave and when will you be back?” Tomoka asked. She approved of Yui going out, but as a mother, she needed to know the details.

”Who? Just me and Kotomi. We’re going to karaoke.”

”Eh? Just you and Kotomi?” Mrs. Yuigahama froze. What was going on?

She was about to press for more details when Yuka suddenly shouted from the bathroom, ”Onee-chan, help me take off my clothes! It’s dark and I can’t get them off!”

”I’m coming!”

Yui called back, running to the bathroom. She had taught Yuka to unbutton her clothes before taking them off, but the little one sometimes skipped that step—this time ending up with her shirt stuck over her head.

Watching Yui leave, Mrs. Yuigahama thought she’d have to find another time to ask why the two of them were going to karaoke alone.

Then she remembered—Kotomi was coming over secretly on Friday night. Why not just ask her then?

”So that’s why Kotomi said she’s busy this weekend… she’s going to karaoke with Yui,” Tomoka murmured to herself, her eyes growing complicated—just like her feelings.

—

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