All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

Yuka: ”Penguin Onee-chan, Onee-chan, what are you two doing?”

Kotomi: ”We were just…”

Yui: ”...”

Yuka: ”I get it! You two are making a baby, right? When people kiss, they get pregnant! Yay! I’m going to have a little niece or nephew!!”

...

To avoid that kind of awkward situation, in the very second before Yuka pushed open the door, Kotomi Izumi quickly exerted a bit of strength and shoved the dumpling aside, creating some distance between them.

Crisis averted—barely.

However, after being pushed away, Yui Yuigahama looked strangely aggrieved.

This silly dumpling… Kotomi sighed helplessly in her heart. If Yuka had seen the two of them kissing, even though Mrs. Yuigahama already knew about their relationship, there would still be one troublesome problem that followed—how were they supposed to explain to Yuka what they had just been doing?

With Yuka’s curiosity, she would definitely ask either her or Yui what they were doing just now.

And when that happened—how were they supposed to answer? Just saying ”You’re too young to understand” wouldn’t be enough.

If they tried to explain in detail, Yuka would surely ask an endless string of questions afterward. Just thinking about it made Kotomi feel tired already—not because she didn’t know how to answer, but because Yuka was still too young. Answering a little bean like her about something like that...

Even someone as thick-skinned as Kotomi Izumi would feel embarrassed.

So, before Yuka saw anything, pushing Yui aside and pretending nothing had happened was definitely the best move.

Sure enough, Yuka didn’t see Kotomi and Yui hugging just moments ago. As soon as she entered the bedroom, she dove straight into Kotomi’s arms, pouting playfully.

”Penguin Onee-chan, I’m sleepy. Can you tell me a bedtime story?”

Seeing Yuka boldly snuggle into Kotomi’s embrace made Yui Yuigahama’s heart instantly fill with jealousy—especially since she had just been pushed away.

Even though she knew why Kotomi had done it, that didn’t stop the dumpling from sulking and feeling jealous.

”Yuka, don’t trouble Kotomi too much. There’s a limit to how much you can cling to someone,” Yui huffed. The moment she said that, she reached out to pull Yuka out of Kotomi’s arms and send her back to her room.

Damn it, my night alone with Kotomi absolutely cannot be interrupted! Yui thought fiercely.

But Yuka wrapped her tiny arms and legs tightly around Kotomi Izumi, refusing to let go. ”No!” she declared bluntly.

Yui: ”I’ll tell you a bedtime story myself. Now get down from Kotomi.”

Yuka: ”Your stories are always the same, Onee-chan. So boring! I don’t want to listen, I don’t want to! I only want Penguin Onee-chan to tell me a bedtime story!”

Yui wrapped an arm around Yuka’s waist and tried to pull her away. But lately, Yuka had been eating more and growing stronger—no matter how Yui tugged, she stayed glued to Kotomi like a stubborn little koala.

Outwardly, Yuka looked like a willful, disobedient child, but inside she was secretly thrilled: Provocation tactic—success! According to what she’d read in manga, if the main girl keeps hesitating to confess, sometimes you just have to use a little push to make things happen. Onee-chan, don’t waste this perfect assist I just gave you!

At this point, Yuka still had no idea that Kotomi Izumi and Yui Yuigahama were already dating.

So she kept on ”helping” as enthusiastically as ever.

”Alright, alright, Yui, stop pulling her like that,” Kotomi finally spoke up, gently patting Yuka’s back in comfort. ”It’s okay, don’t cry.”

”Uu… Onee-chan’s being mean. Penguin Onee-chan, I’m scared.” Yuka buried her face in Kotomi’s chest, pretending to sob pitifully.

”There, there, it’s okay~ I’m here,” Kotomi said softly, hugging Yuka a little tighter. The warmth of her embrace slowly calmed the little girl down.

”You couldn’t make that fake crying sound any less convincing if you tried,” Yui gritted her teeth, thinking to herself, This little bean is acting up again. The spot in Kotomi’s arms is supposed to be mine!

Holding Yuka in her arms, Kotomi stood up and said, ”It’s about time Yuka went to bed anyway. I’ll tuck her in first.”

This little bean doesn’t even need to be coaxed to sleep!!! Yui Yuigahama screamed internally. But if Kotomi didn’t tell Yuka a bedtime story, the little one would definitely throw a fit again.

With no choice but to accept defeat, Yui sighed helplessly and watched as Kotomi carried Yuka out of the room. Left alone, she lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting eagerly for Kotomi to finish putting Yuka to sleep and come back soon.

...

”Yuka, what kind of bedtime story do you want to hear?”

After bringing Yuka back to her room, Kotomi Izumi gently placed her on the bed, tucked her in carefully, and smoothed out the corners of the blanket. Then she walked over to the bookshelf, ready to pick out a short picture book suitable for a bedtime story.

”I want something exciting!” Yuka said directly.

”Exciting?” Kotomi blinked, unsure what she meant.

”I want one that’s a bit scary—with ghosts and monsters,” Yuka whispered, her expression serious, not joking at all.

Kotomi was surprised. It wasn’t that she thought horror stories were inappropriate for children—on the contrary, she believed that kids should learn that darkness also exists in the world.

But... were scary stories really suitable before bedtime?

”Are you sure you want to hear one? If I tell you, you’d better not get so scared you won’t go to the bathroom at night. And if you wet the bed, you’ll have to wash your own pajamas, okay?”

”I already went to the bathroom!”

The moment Kotomi mentioned wetting the bed, Yuka’s adorable face turned bright red. Flustered, she raised her voice in protest.

Kotomi knew exactly why—Yui had mentioned it to her earlier in the afternoon. Yuka had wet the bed last night.

It wasn’t because she’d listened to a scary story before sleeping; she had simply drunk a whole bottle of orange juice before bed and then fallen asleep without going to the bathroom. By the time she woke up this morning, she had discovered the unfortunate result.

Mrs. Yuigahama had already washed the sheets and blanket, and they were now hanging on the drying rack outside.

Seeing that Yuka was still determined, Kotomi sighed and dimmed the lights in the bedroom. It wasn’t to set a spooky atmosphere—she just wanted to make it easier for the girl to fall asleep.

Then Kotomi sat down beside the bed, gently running her fingers through Yuka’s soft hair. Lowering her voice slightly, she began to tell the story.

When choosing which horror story to tell, Kotomi Izumi thought for quite a while.

It wasn’t because she didn’t know enough horror stories or lacked material. On the contrary, horror stories were the one genre she had an abundance of. Just from urban legends alone, she could tell Yuka stories for an entire night.

However, no matter how much Yuka wanted to hear one, the fact remained—she was still just a kindergarten kid. Kotomi couldn’t possibly tell her something too terrifying or gory, could she?

It was supposed to be a bedtime story, after all. The last thing she wanted was to scare the poor girl so much she couldn’t sleep afterward.

So Kotomi decided to pick one that wasn’t too scary.

Of course, making that choice took a bit of time.

Fortunately, Kotomi happened to remember a particular story—a mildly frightening one that had left a deep impression on her back when she was a child.

”It happened long, long ago. There was once a priest. Whenever someone lost and confused came to the church to confide in him, he would always tell them this story...”

The priest said to the bewildered man before him, ”Actually, my hometown isn’t here in Kanagawa—it’s in Kuchi-Noto.”

”Kuchi-Noto?” the man repeated, puzzled.

The priest smiled, his tone relaxed as if he’d just had a few drinks. ”Geographically speaking, it’s in Hakui, Ishikawa Prefecture. When I was a child, my great-grandmother explained that the name Kuchi-Noto meant ’the mouth of the Noto Peninsula.’”

”Not far from my childhood home, there was a temple. Inside it hung a great bell. Every time it rang, I would feel afraid—afraid that something was hiding in the unseen corners of the night. At first, my great-grandmother asked me why I was scared. When I told her it was because of the bell, she didn’t comfort me. Instead, she told me the origin of the bell that rang—the Hannya Bell.”

My great-grandmother said, ”Ah, so it’s the bell you fear. Haha, yes indeed... the Hannya Bell rings once more.”

The young priest, nervous, asked her, ”The Hannya Bell...?”

That was the first time he learned the name of the bell that had always frightened him.

His great-grandmother began to speak slowly, telling him the story of the bell’s origin.

A long time ago, in the early years of the Meiwa era, there lived a skilled carpenter who left his wife behind at home to take on work in Edo, having been invited there for a special job.

For a year, the couple rarely saw each other.

Then, in the second year, the wife heard a rumor—that her husband had taken a mistress in Edo. Worse, the mistress was none other than the wife of the man who had hired her husband in the first place.

Consumed by jealousy and hatred, the wife drank heavily one night for the first time in her life. She became drunk and fell asleep... and in her dreams, she found herself standing before her husband and his mistress.

Without thinking, she lunged forward and bit into her husband’s neck, tearing it open with her teeth and killing him on the spot.

Just as she was about to attack the mistress next, she suddenly awoke. Dawn had already arrived—it was March 6th, Meiwa Year 2.

As she sat up in bed, she suddenly felt something strange about her mouth. Looking down in horror, she saw her lips and chin stained with fresh blood, as if she had been devouring raw flesh in her sleep.

Panic struck her heart. Despite what she had heard about her husband’s betrayal, she still loved him. If he were willing to return, she would have forgiven him and continued their life together.

Worried for his safety, she packed her belongings—some money, a change of clothes, dry food, and water—and set out for Edo.

It wasn’t too far. On foot, it took her just one full day to arrive.

When she reached Edo, she rested briefly by the roadside, finishing her last bit of food and water, then began searching for her husband. She roughly remembered the area where he had been working.

On her way, she passed by Zenko-ji Temple, where she encountered a woman carrying a wooden box in her arms.

The wife greeted her politely, and upon mentioning that she was the carpenter’s wife, the woman’s expression twisted in grief. Whispering endless apologies, tears streaming down her face, she shakily lifted the lid of the box she held.

The moment the lid opened, the wife clamped a hand over her mouth and collapsed to the ground. Inside the box lay her husband’s bones—and standing before her was his mistress.

According to the mistress, one morning, just before dawn, the carpenter suddenly grabbed his own neck in agony. His fingernails grew as sharp as blades, scratching deep bloody marks across his throat. Then, without warning, a spray of crimson gushed forth—and he died on the spot.

Moments later, the mistress felt a chilling cold sweep through her body, as though death itself was about to take her too. But just as quickly as it came, the sensation vanished.

The day the carpenter died was that same morning—March 6th, Meiwa Year 2.

Upon hearing this, all the wife’s jealousy and hatred dissolved instantly.

After burying her husband’s remains alongside the mistress, the two women renounced the world at Zenko-ji Temple. Together, they set out on a pilgrimage, collecting alms to atone for his soul.

With the offerings they gathered, they eventually cast a great bell on an island near Edo.

That bell passed through many hands over the years until it finally reached Hakui.

And that was where the story ended.

Kotomi Izumi glanced at Yuka. The little girl was already drifting off to sleep, eyelids drooping. But just before falling completely asleep, she murmured softly:

”Penguin Onee-chan, that story… it feels like there are a lot of things that don’t make sense.”

Kotomi smiled faintly. If Yuka could already sense the inconsistencies, then Kotomi’s choice of story hadn’t been in vain.

”There really are a lot of things that don’t make sense,” she said gently. ”But all those inconsistencies serve a purpose—they exist to express a concept that’s beyond the story itself. Once you understand that concept, you’ll understand why the story sounds so strange. Remember, this story isn’t about right or wrong. Right and wrong don’t exist within it.”

After finishing, Kotomi softly stroked Yuka’s hair, lulling her into a peaceful sleep.

Only once Yuka was fully asleep did Kotomi quietly rise, turn off the light, and slip soundlessly out of the room.

When Kotomi first heard that story as a child, she too had felt uneasy. From beginning to end, there was something subtly off about it—a strange, lingering dissonance.

It wasn’t until she grew older that she finally understood: it was a parable steeped in religious values.

That was what she meant by the ”concept beyond the story.”

In the tale, the wife’s jealousy and resentment were sins. The mistress’s betrayal of her husband and affair with another man were sins. The husband’s infidelity was also a sin. When the wife and mistress repented, they cleansed themselves of their wrongdoings. The husband’s sin, too, was forgiven—his life having been the price.

That was why the priest told this unsettling tale to those who came to him lost and confused.

The real purpose of the story was to teach them one thing: if you have faith in the divine and truly pray from your heart, the confusion within you will be lifted.

It was, in essence, a way to guide the lost toward belief.

As for the contradictions within the tale? Those were just little details—a story to pass the time. Nothing worth overanalyzing.

Kotomi had chosen this story for Yuka because she wanted her to understand something important: Don’t let your thinking be trapped by a story. Every storyteller is a hunter, and every word they write could be a snare meant to mislead. You must learn to think beyond the story itself.

When she pushed open the door to Yui’s bedroom, Kotomi couldn’t help but smile at the sight before her—a lonely dumpling, curled up under the blanket, sulking in the corner of the bed.

This silly dumpling… jealous of a little bean? Really?

Kotomi climbed into bed beside her and poked at the lump under the blanket. ”I’m back.”

Yui stirred slightly, turning over to face her. ”I can’t sleep,” she muttered softly.

”Oh? And what would help you fall asleep, then?” Kotomi asked with a teasing smile, propping her chin in her hand as she gazed at Yui.

The dumpling replied seriously, ”Tell me two bedtime stories.”

—

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