Chapter 13: However, I Couldn’t Escape

This shouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard about Toudou’s mother—no, wait, that’s not right. I’ve heard about the house rules, but not any specifics about her mother. All I know is that games are banned. That said, I’ve looked up a bunch of stuff online, so I know a little.

She was a former stage actress… right? Her stage name was Tsukikawa Meika. There were a few photos from her younger days, but she didn’t look much like Toudou.

Is Toudou Mashiro on bad terms with her mother? Does that cause her some kind of pain?

Maybe she took my silence the wrong way, because Toudou started talking on her own.

“No, it’s not like we’re on super bad terms or anything? We argue sometimes, sure, but I think that happens in every family.”

In my house, it’s nothing but dumb fights. Like my dad sulking after getting bombarded with items in a racing game. It’s probably not even comparable to the Toudou household, so I’ll keep quiet.

“As for me, with lessons, well, sometimes I hate them, and sometimes I enjoy them. There are times when I feel like I have to do them, and times when I want to take a break. It’s not forced, but it’s not exactly free either…”

“That sounds kinda wishy-washy.” Maybe because I pointed it out, Toudou connected her faltering words.

“I mean… isn’t gaming more fun? I realized that gaming is more enjoyable than lessons, and it makes my heart race.”

Toudou declared it outright. Hold on a second. That statement sounds kinda suspicious.

“…What brought this on so suddenly?”

My voice must have carried a hint of skepticism, because Toudou launched into a flurry of excuses, her words tumbling over one another.

“Because—time’s so limited, you know? Right now, I just want to dive into games… I want to play during summer break too, but I can’t at home. And with lessons eating up my break, my free time’s practically nonexistent, but I want to play! …I’m in that kind of mood, Kuroki-kun, you get it, right!?”

Toudou’s eyes were practically spinning, her words spilling out with a fervor that betrayed some dangerously honest feelings. It was the kind of impulsive declaration I might’ve made myself, but coming from her, it carried an almost unsettling conviction.

This was a treacherous path. I had to steer her back.

“Toudou, calm down.”

“I am calm!”

Liar. She wasn’t drooling or anything, but her thoughts seemed stuck, like a glitching game character unable to move forward. Though, knowing Toudou, even if she were drooling, she’d probably still look like she stepped out of a painting… No, stop imagining that.

“So, what you’re saying is you’d rather pour your energy into the fun of games than deal with reality?”

That’s what people call escapism.

Toudou shook her head firmly, rejecting the idea. “No, that’s not it, Kuroki-kun. I mean, if I’m going to put in effort, I’d rather it be for something fun like games.”

“I see…?”

It sounded like splitting hairs to me, but to Toudou, the distinction seemed to matter.

“It’s not just about effort to get stronger—it’s effort to have fun!”

The national beauty contest winner clenched her fist tightly, her enthusiasm practically radiating. No matter how she phrased it, she was teetering dangerously close to the edge of the bottomless gaming abyss.

This couldn’t be my fault… could it?

Noticing my paling face, Toudou flashed a mischievous grin.

“Oh? You figured it out? Kuroki-kun, you played a big part in getting me hooked on games. So, you’d better take responsibility for it.”

“Don’t read my mind…”

“Ahaha! Kuroki-kun, it’s written all over your face. I can tell everything.”

This was an unexpected turn.

It might sound like an excuse now, but in my experience, people who say things like, “Are you good at games? Teach me!” usually lose interest fast. The gap between their expectations and reality is too wide, so they give up or just get bored of grinding to improve. I’d assumed Toudou was that type, but that was a careless misjudgment.

Toudou Mashiro was the kind who charged headfirst toward what she loved. Stopping her would be simple, but whether that was the right call—who could say, especially for a high schooler like me? Besides, I was the one sprinting down that same path myself… so, what, was I the bad influence?

Toudou tilted her head, her voice curious as I fell silent. “What’s wrong, Kuroki-kun? Are you mad?”

In my mind, I pictured Toudou Mashiro’s parents—people I’d never even met—glaring at me, their voices stern. “Mashiro, choose your friends wisely. Bad influences can lead you astray.”

I couldn’t handle that kind of responsibility…

“Toudou, let me say one thing.”

“What? Why the scary face?”

“Listen up, Toudou, hear me out! This is important!”

“Whoa! Wh-what’s with you all of a sudden?”

Toudou straightened up, adjusting her posture as if bracing herself.

I locked eyes with her and declared, “Games won’t put food on the table, and they won’t get you into college. You can’t make money off them, and you’ll be headed straight for unemployment. So don’t go down the wrong path. Don’t put yourself on the same level as someone like me, Kuroki You, who’s just coasting through summer break, aiming for some no-name university…!”

It was harsh, but it was about me, so I’d forgive myself.

Toudou relaxed her stiffened posture, letting out a small sigh before countering, “But streamers and YouTubers make money and eat from that, don’t they? There are schools for pro gamers now, and I’ve seen news about high schools with gaming clubs. There was even an article saying it might become an Olympic event someday.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

I couldn’t help but agree.

“So, Kuroki-kun, don’t talk about yourself like that. You’ve still got a future ahead.”

“Thanks.”

I ended up thanking her…

My dignity in tatters, I still tried to press my point.

“…In other words, getting too obsessed isn’t good. Keep games as a way to relax. It’s better to take lessons seriously.”

“But Kuroki-kun, didn’t you aim to be a pro gamer once? I haven’t forgotten you letting that slip. You said, ‘I got something out of the effort I put in.’ Maybe I could get something out of it too?”

“Yeah…”

It was hopeless now.

Deep down, I shared Toudou’s view. Schools and adults might call games harmful, but they’re already a legitimate profession with real potential. And Toudou Mashiro, with her fame, could easily pivot to being a streamer or influencer if she chose to. Celebrity gaming channels aren’t exactly rare.

“So, what are you trying to say, Kuroki-kun?”

I’d lost sight of my own point, but with my words already out there, I couldn’t take them back. I scrambled for a weak counter. “Games are a wonderful culture. But… maybe lessons should take priority…”

It didn’t feel right, though. I was out of arguments.

“You’re the one saying that, Kuroki-kun? You, who sometimes dozes off in class? Especially the day after gaming too much? I’ve noticed, you know. As students, isn’t studying the higher priority?”

“You shouldn’t be watching me like that…”

I was completely outmatched.

“Don’t get down, Kuroki-kun.”

“I’m not down…”

But my gaze had already dropped. I couldn’t even persuade one high school girl and got thoroughly refuted instead.

Toudou clapped her hands with a sharp smack, pulling my attention back to her. “You get it, right, Kuroki-kun?”

Her smile was sly, almost knowing.

“Kuroki-kun, you feel responsible for getting me into games, don’t you? You’re panicking now that I’m more hooked than you expected, huh?”

“N-no, that’s not…”

She had me completely figured out.

Every time we played, I’d jumped in with advice, even assigned her homework to improve. I’d definitely eaten into her time. She probably studied gameplay videos at home, too. Thinking back, it was all my fault. Even if she pinned it on me, I had no defense.

Toudou suddenly leaned in closer, her face inching toward mine. “I see, I see. So Kuroki-kun feels responsible for me—that’s tough, huh? Really tough. Right? Because responsibility means you have to carry it, yeah? So that means Kuroki-kun has to piggyback Mashiro-chan, right?”

“A shoulder ride would work too…”

“True, a shoulder ride’s fine too.” Toudou nodded with seriousness.

“So, Kuroki-kun. Do you feel responsible? Well?”

Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief.

“No, not really… responsibility or whatever…”

I do feel it. But I can’t say that. Me… no, someone like me influencing Toudou? That’s overconfident and creepy! If she thought that, my heart would break.

“Kuroki-kun, you’re making a weird face… There’s a wrinkle between your brows.”

“That’s always there.”

“Oh, right. Weird face is your default.”

This girl… Just because she’s cute doesn’t mean she gets a free pass… But I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

“In the end, what are you getting at, Toudou?”

“What I’m getting at, huh?” Her voice carried a teasing lilt, and an uneasy premonition twisted in my gut.

“Wait, no, you don’t have to say it—” I tried to cut her off, but it was too late.

“Hey, Kuroki-kun? Let’s talk about responsibility.”

“…Responsibility?”

Toudou raised her index finger, swaying it left and right like a wizard brandishing a wand. “What if, during the endless stretch of summer break, I skipped my lessons? And what if the reason was because you, Kuroki-kun, so thoroughly introduced me to the joys of gaming? In that case, wouldn’t you say Toudou Mashiro was utterly transformed by Kuroki You?”

Her words were carefully chosen, almost too innocent. “That phrasing… it doesn’t have any malice, does it?”

“Nope, none at all!”

There’s definitely malice.

Toudou deftly steered the conversation back on track. “If my mom asked why I’ve changed, I’d probably say something like, ‘I just want to hang out with my friends, so I’m skipping lessons.’”

“Well, if that’s the case—”

“And then,” she continued, undeterred, “I’d add, ‘That friend’s a boy, and we’ve been getting pretty close lately! He’s the one who showed me how much fun games are. I can’t go back to how I was before!’” Toudou hugged herself, swaying dramatically as if lost in some romantic daydream.

She’s definitely mocking me.

“See? Nothing but malice!” I shot back.

“Ehe!” Toudou stuck out her tongue, and somehow, it wasn’t as infuriating as it should’ve been—just… oddly cute.

“Toudou, hold on. Let me make my case. Not everything’s my fault, right?”

“Oh? Go right ahead.”

It was as if she were daring me: If you think you can wiggle out of this, try.

“Give me a second to sort my thoughts,”

Hanging out with friends isn’t a crime, right? Toudou probably skips lessons sometimes too—that’s not a sin. But getting hooked on games, especially ones she’s not supposed to play? That’s where it gets tricky. Who created the environment for all this gaming? Who sparked her interest in picking up games again? Apparently, me. Who started hanging out with her while she played alone? Me. Who fed her game knowledge, showed her strategy sites, and became her go-to opponent?

It’s all Kuroki You.

I clutched my head, the weight of realization sinking in.

“Ugh… it’s too late. I’d have to leap back a month to rewrite my life’s path…”

“Kuroki-kun, even if you could time-leap, I bet you’d still end up tangled in the same fate as me.” Toudou’s voice carried a teasing lilt, her serious expression almost too convincing. “Our threads are already knotted together, you know.”

“Don’t toss out cool lines with that deadpan face.” Her acting was so sharp, it felt like we’d slipped into some sci-fi drama without warning.

“If Kuroki-kun won’t take responsibility…” Toudou’s tone shifted, her eyes narrowing as she leaned forward, pressing her weight against the desk with deliberate slowness. “I might just tell my mom, ‘Kuroki-kun and I are hitting the beach together,’ or maybe, ‘Kuroki-kun’s taking me swimsuit shopping.’ She’d probably fret and say, ‘Bring Kuroki-kun over to the house sometime.’ So, what do you think, Kuroki-kun? Would you show up for my sake?”

“Urk…” I raised both hands slowly, as if waving a white flag in surrender.

“…I give up. Games are important, and I’m the one who dragged you into them. I’ll admit it—games are just as vital as your lessons. Even if you skipped class, I’d have no right to complain, considering I’m the guy who ditches to play all the time.”

Toudou pulled back, her face lighting up with a triumphant grin. “Oh, I win! Yay! You’re such a sweetheart for owning up to it.”

“And who’s the one who strong-armed me into confessing…?”

“Hm? Did you say something?”

“NOTHING AT ALL!”

Toudou gave a slight nod, her words measured and deliberate. “Hey, hey. Whether it’s games or real life, winners always get a prize, right? Like when a hero slays the demon king and marries the princess—world’s at peace, everyone’s happy.” She chirped “Happy!” while flashing double peace signs beside her face.

I stared, utterly clueless about what she was getting at. “Get… something?”

Toudou let out a mischievous “ufufu” giggle, her expression turning impish, almost bratty. Then she laid out her so-called prize. “From today until summer break kicks off… I was thinking I’d like to play games at your place, Kuroki-kun. That way, I can keep up with my lessons without skipping. Sounds good, right? Take responsibility, Kuroki-kun.”

A wave of déjà vu hit me. It felt familiar, but the meaning was entirely different this time. In the end, I was doomed from the start—there was no escaping a request from a cheat-level little devil like her.