Three-Topic Short-Short_167

Just as rakugo performers do their three-topic stories, I, Koji, shall try my hand at one too.

I am absolutely terrible at themed projects.

Even if it's a project from someone I'm very close to, I find it hard to just go along with it.

Of all things in the world, I hate restrictions like "rules," "regulations," "deadlines," and "cutoff dates" the most.

No matter how old I get, I'm still a stubborn, bratty kid. That is who I, kojuro, am.

Huh? Rakugo? A three-topic story? Yasu-san?

Little kojuro inside my heart muttered softly.

Koji, you're also known as "Amanojaku Shiro" (Mr. Contrary), aren't you? If someone told you, "It's okay even if you can't write it," wouldn't you actually want to write it even more?

What are you talking about?

Alright, fine, I'll write it. I'll write it. I just have to write it, right, Little? That'll satisfy you, won't it?

Lifting my heavy, heavy self—heavier than a black hole—I pick up my pen, half in despair.

Well then. Shall we begin the three-topic short-short, "167"?

On a Saturday night, after coming home drunk to vent my frustration over working on a holiday, I found my graduation album on the bookshelf.

Overcome with nostalgia, I had another drink with a canned beer all by myself.





The next day, I ordered the Milano-style doria from Saizeriya, which I used to frequent on my way home from club activities.



Yeah, it's the taste from back then.




Beyond the rising steam, I suddenly saw Alice's face.


"You look so dull. Give it your all, if you're a man."



Before I could reply, Alice, looking a bit angry, gradually became transparent and vanished.






Although I stayed up all night preparing after I got home, my presentation on Monday morning was a disaster.



I'm always like this.



I get picked for the starting lineup on a whim and get a hit in my first at-bat. But after that, I fly out. By the end of my second at-bat in the second game, I'm replaced. From then on, it's the bench, the stands, and being a ghost member.



Alice, the manager, used to scold me often for being such a good-for-nothing.


"Use your head!"

"Don't slack off!"

"Don't give up so easily!"




That was, without a doubt, my youth.








When I opened the door, a voice came from the sofa in the back.

"Wash your hands!"

Just as I was about to tell my wife about Yasu-san's three-topic story project, I looked at the sofa, and she pointed at her legs, smiled, and said:

Is that so? A three-topic story? A rakugo one? A short-short? You wrote it? And it's bad again? You're just causing trouble for everyone! Well then, in honor of that, shall we go with a triple-return massage (Note 1)? Pe-pe-pen, pen!

...

When I give my wife a massage, she is in a good mood.

When my wife is in a good mood, our home is peaceful.

Therefore.

This is fine.

(Note 1) 'Massa' is short for massage. That is how my wife, Sacchan, abbreviates it. Giving Sacchan a 'massa' is my most important daily routine.