All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

When Kotomi Izumi heard that, she immediately felt a bit displeased.

”What do you mean I’ve been a slut since I was little? The thing I despise most in this world is that kind of girl! You little tigress, let me tell you—just because I’m stunningly beautiful, gentle and kind, virtuous and generous, pure and spotless, refined and dignified, doesn’t mean I don’t have a temper. If you keep slandering me like this, I’ll ignore you for a whole... ahem, a whole day!”

”You are indeed stunningly beautiful and gentle, but those last three idioms... do they really have anything to do with you?” Yukino Yukinoshita couldn’t help but ask with a faint smile.

Kotomi Izumi really was breathtakingly beautiful and gentle, but those last three descriptions clearly didn’t suit someone like her—a little flirtatious troublemaker.

”I’m not virtuous and generous? I’m not pure and spotless? I’m not refined and dignified? A treasure of a girl like me is impossible to find even with a lantern! If someone could marry me, it would be a blessing they couldn’t earn even in ten lifetimes!”

Kotomi raised her delicate brows, completely confident in herself, speaking with utter dissatisfaction.

At that moment, Yukino suddenly had the urge to reach out and pinch Kotomi’s cheek, just to see how thick her skin really was.

She even glanced at the fruit knife on the nearby table.

Ever since being stabbed once before, Kotomi had become extremely sensitive to anything resembling a blade. She instantly noticed Yukino’s gaze drifting toward the knife. Her previously smug and teasing tone softened immediately, and she asked in a small voice,

”W-What are you looking at...?”

”Just the fruit knife on the table. I was wondering whether it could pierce through your thick skin.”

Yukino said it with a gentle smile—half statement, half question... and perhaps something more.

Kotomi wasn’t particularly brave to begin with. Hearing that so suddenly almost made her break out in a cold sweat. She quickly leaned her face closer, acting obedient yet a little playful.

”M-My skin is actually really thin! If you don’t believe me... try kissing it~”

”Get away from me.”

Faced with Kotomi openly inviting her to kiss her, Yukino was startled at first—and even a little tempted—but she quickly calmed down. She cautiously glanced at Yui Yuigahama, who was still nearby talking on the phone with her mother and Yuka. Seeing that Yui was still occupied, Yukino finally let out a quiet breath of relief.

She shot Kotomi a slightly annoyed look and gently pushed her face away.

Something that could have been done with just words, Yukino deliberately used her hand to push Kotomi’s cheek instead. Whether that action was meant to push her away—or to take the opportunity to touch her—only Yukino herself knew.

”Hmph. Kiss me or don’t. If people lined up to kiss me, the line would start in Tokyo and wrap around the Earth several times,” Kotomi said with a hint of smug pride.

Yukino deliberately ignored that and continued,

”You’ve told me the second reason, and I’ve kept my promise to let you take a photo of me smiling. Are you going to take it now?”

Kotomi thought for a moment, then replied lazily,

”Not in the mood. I don’t feel like taking it anymore. Maybe next time... unless you give me a shoulder massage and beg me to take it.”

Those words instantly made Yukino feel a surge of impulse—she wanted to pin Kotomi to the ground and kiss her hard, just to see if that mouth of hers would still be so arrogant.

But reason still held the upper hand. She took a deep breath, calmed the impulse inside her, then mimicked Kotomi’s earlier tone and snapped,

”Take it or don’t!”

Once a thought takes root, it becomes impossible not to dwell on it. Yukino was no exception.

Although she had firmly refused Kotomi’s invitation to kiss her just now, she couldn’t help feeling a trace of regret afterward.

Why did I refuse?

That feeling was just like when someone, in a moment of clarity, deletes all the videos and bookmarked sites they had painstakingly collected—telling themselves it’s better this way, cleaner, and frees up storage space.

But not even twenty minutes later, they start regretting it, wondering why they impulsively deleted everything.

Yui is still on the phone right now... even if I had secretly kissed Kotomi just now...

No, kissing her lips right away would’ve been too much. I should’ve started with her cheek.

Either way, if I had stolen a kiss, Yui probably wouldn’t have noticed... right?

Yukino thought, feeling increasingly regretful. Why had she acted so tsundere? Why had she pushed Kotomi’s face away?

The bitterness in her chest felt like she had just eaten a dozen lemons.

As if by coincidence, just as Yukino was thinking that Yui wouldn’t have noticed anything, Yui Yuigahama ended her call.

She turned to Kotomi and Yukino with a smile.

”When I said goodbye just now, Yuka was almost crying, asking when I’ll come back. That little gremlin—she never seemed this clingy before.”

”Kids are like that. When you’re at home, they act like little devils, tearing the house apart if you don’t keep an eye on them. But once you’re apart for a few days, they start missing you like crazy. Of course, if you ever dare to hit Yuka, I won’t forgive you.”

Kotomi spoke with experience—she and Yuyu were exactly like that. They would fight whenever they met, but when it came time to part, Yuyu would always be reluctant to let her go.

”Mm... Kotomi, you spoil Yuka too much. Who raises a kid like that? I’ve never spoiled her that much. If people heard this, they wouldn’t think you’re her sister—they’d think you’re her mom.”

As Yui spoke, there was a faint hint of jealousy in her tone, as if saying, You’ve never doted on me like that.

Kotomi naturally picked up on that subtle jealousy. She reached out and pinched Yui’s soft cheek, applying just a bit of force, and said irritably,

”You little dumpling, you’re unhappy that I treat Yuka well?”

”No... I just think you shouldn’t spoil her so much. You’ll end up raising her badly.”

”I like spoiling her. I’ll pamper her as much as I want. Even if she turns out spoiled, it doesn’t matter—I have the ability to support her for life,” Kotomi said matter-of-factly.

Yui opened her mouth, only to realize she couldn’t argue with Kotomi at all.

Although she was happy that Kotomi treated her little sister well, it really was too much—bordering on outright indulgence.

Even her mother had once said,

”Sometimes it feels like Kotomi is Yuka’s second mother.”

That remark left a strong impression on Yui Yuigahama. She was happy that Kotomi liked Yuka so much, but she also didn’t want her to spoil Yuka excessively. Yuka was still young. Even if she was more sensible than most kids her age, being pampered like this every day by Kotomi made Yui, as her older sister, worry—what if one day Yuka really was spoiled rotten?

Kotomi Izumi had no interest in wasting time discussing child-rearing. She wasn’t even a mother yet—why think so far ahead?

So she pulled Yui into her arms, lay down, and said lazily,

”Feels like we’ve talked too much today. I don’t feel like talking anymore. We’re going to visit my third uncle and aunt tomorrow, so let’s sleep early. I declare—lights out, bedtime!”

...

Late at night, when Saori Funamoto invited her to have dinner together, Saaki Funamoto declined.

Saaki Funamoto sat alone on the tatami, slowly sipping hot tea that still scalded her lips slightly, recalling Kotomi’s behavior in the restaurant earlier that morning.

Although Saaki hadn’t appeared in the restaurant, her ”eyes” had faithfully relayed every word of the conversation between Kotomi and Saori at noon.

Nearly three hours had passed since she finished listening, yet Saaki still wore a troubled expression, as if pondering something deeply vexing.

”It seems Miss Izumi is quite dissatisfied with Mari. Heh... understandable. The Izumi family has pride etched into their very bones. Mari’s negligent attitude would naturally displease her. If Miss Izumi had been a bit more ruthless back then, this old body of mine might now be preparing to collect my ungrateful eldest daughter’s corpse—another case of the elderly burying the young.”

Saaki chuckled softly, murmuring to herself, as if she wasn’t worried about her eldest daughter’s situation at all. She downed the rest of the tea in one gulp and then sat there in silence for a long, long time.

After an unknown period, Saaki slowly stood up. Her movements were so sluggish, as if announcing that her life had entered its final stage.

The room she was in wasn’t large. It looked like a resting space designed for a single person—comfortable for one, manageable for two, but cramped for three. The decor wasn’t to Saaki’s taste, yet she liked staying here. Whether working or resting, she preferred this modest room.

”When people grow old, they’re like a candle lit in the evening wind. The flame flickers and sways, ready to be extinguished at any moment.”

Saaki muttered in a low voice as she walked toward a door inside the room.

She reached out and slowly slid it open.

A cold gust of wind swept through, revealing a vast hidden space behind the otherwise unremarkable sliding door.

Back when Saaki took over the Harugamo Inn, she had this large area built under the pretense of constructing a warehouse. But after it was completed, she never used it as one.

Such a large space was reserved for only two purposes.

The first was to house a statue.

The second...

Saaki walked forward slowly, her footsteps echoing hollowly across the floor.

When she was young, she had liked to walk quickly, believing it allowed her to seize more time. But at some point, her pace had gradually slowed—until it became as slow as it was now. It was as if she had spent the first half of her life hurrying forward, only to slow down in the latter half, hoping to stretch out the remaining time and walk the final stretch of her life more gently.

Though both speeds were meant to gain more time, the choice differed. Perhaps that was the change brought by age.

After a few steps, Saaki stopped in front of a statue.

In this vast space, there were no decorations and no other objects—only a single sculpture.

Michelangelo Buonarroti’s 1498 masterpiece, Pietà.

In the sculpture, the dead Christ bears a wound on his side, his face devoid of pain. He lies across the Virgin Mary’s lap, his right hand hanging down, his head tilted back, his body long and slender like that of a gymnast, his waist bent—silently conveying the frailty and helplessness of death.

The Virgin appears young and beautiful, gentle and composed, draped in a large cloak and robe. Her right hand supports Christ’s body, while her left extends slightly outward. Though her heart is filled with grief, she restrains herself from beating her chest and wailing.

Her head tilts downward as she gazes at her son. The lowered eyelids convey the cruel agony of losing a child. The intricate folds of her clothing cover her sturdy shoulders, while her veil frames her delicate face. Beneath her calm exterior lies a piercing, inexpressible sorrow.

Her expression is silent and complex, pouring out wordless grief, imbued with a prayer heavy with mourning.

Saaki gazed deeply at the Pietà. It was as if her vision no longer lingered on the sculpture itself, but crossed the span of time to look upon someone long gone.

A person like a decaying flower—filled with filth, cruelty, and obsession, yet constantly yearning for divine revelation, hoping to ascend to heaven under the guidance of angels.

...

Early the next morning.

Yui Yuigahama woke up early, moving quietly as she got dressed. Today was the day she would accompany Kotomi to visit her third uncle and aunt. It was her first time meeting Kotomi’s relatives. As Kotomi’s girlfriend, Yui had been so nervous the night before that she could barely sleep.

In the end, Kotomi noticed her anxiety, pulled her into her arms, and told her a bedtime story for half an hour.

When Kotomi told bedtime stories, it was as if she possessed a kind of magic that could quickly lull others to sleep.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work on herself.

Once, when she had insomnia, Kotomi tried telling herself a bedtime story—only to become more and more awake the longer she spoke.

Although Yui tried to move quietly while dressing, Kotomi—enhanced by the Queen of All Females physique—had an acute awareness of her surroundings. She slowly opened her eyes. Seeing Yui getting dressed, she smiled slightly, reached out, and pinched Yui’s cheek.

”Why are you up so early? I don’t even wake up this early for school. Come on... sleep a bit more with me~”

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