That night, Daichi Yayahara couldn't fall asleep no matter how hard he tried.
His mind kept replaying Dekisugi's merciless triple strike: "I went to tutor," "I wanted to save money for the family," "I quit my job because I was worried you'd be bored."
Those three lines from the afternoon stabbed into his young heart like three blades, over and over again.
He… had been utterly defeated in terms of maturity and sense of responsibility by a boy not even ten years old!
As Daichi tossed and turned in bed, suddenly the room—previously silent—was filled with the sharp ring of a phone. It was the one sitting in Dekisugi's room, the one Daichi had always assumed was just for decoration.
It actually works? he thought, but that didn't slow him down. He darted to the phone and picked it up before the second ring ended.
He had to see who would be calling at this hour to bother them.
"Hello, this is the Dekisugi residence. May I ask who's calling?"
"The Dekisugi residence? You're not Dekisugi, are you?" The person on the other end hesitated before responding.
"That's right. I'm Daichi Yayahara. I'm currently staying here. And you are?"
There was no immediate reply—just a burst of laughter. Then the caller said with a note of excitement, "I was only hoping to find Dekisugi, but this is killing two birds with one stone! Hahaha…" Then they hung up.
"…Huh?" Daichi stared at the dial tone in confusion, then slowly lowered the receiver.
"Nutjob," he muttered, crawling back into bed.
Still, the prank call had distracted him enough that the pain from being humbled by the child-saint—no, child-genius—Dekisugi had dulled somewhat.
Soon, he drifted off into a hazy sleep.
But just as he was about to enter dreamland, the damn phone rang again, cutting through his drowsy bliss.
To avoid waking Dekisugi, he had no choice but to get up and answer it again.
"Hello, this is the Dekisugi residence. May I ask who's calling?" He waited a while, but there was no response. Then the call ended.
"…Seriously? Playing games now?" he grumbled, storming back to bed.
But before long, the accursed ringing started again.
Daichi's eyes snapped open, blood vessels popping red in his whites. He picked up the phone, announced himself, and asked for the caller's identity.
Still nothing.
Furious, Daichi wanted to roar into the phone, but remembering Dekisugi was fast asleep, he forced himself to hold it in.
Instead, he spoke low and slow, each word laced with venom: "You. Better. Hope. I. Never. Find. You."
Then he slammed the phone down.
The call didn't come again. Daichi finally returned to bed.
Surprisingly, he didn't feel too tired the next morning. As a mage, fatigue was linked more to mental energy than to actual sleep.
Last night's exhaustion came from practicing magic. But as long as he didn't overextend, his mental energy would regenerate fairly quickly—usually within a few hours. Dekisugi, on the other hand, seemed a bit drowsy.
Even so, Daichi silently swore: if he ever found out who that caller was, he would make them pay. In the name of all mages!
With that in mind, he headed to school and waited for class to start.
By his calculations, Nobita should be flying in any moment. He scanned the grass outside with his detection spell—only to realize the target dummy was missing.
Daichi offered three seconds of silent prayer for Nobita, then resumed his cultivation.
Soon, Gian and Suneo strolled in, wearing mysterious grins. When the bell rang, Nobita was nowhere to be seen.
The teacher walked in, looked around, and saw someone was missing. Upon seeing it was Nobita, he simply sighed and began the lesson.
About halfway through the class, Nobita finally arrived—dripping wet.
Looked like he'd fallen in water. Who knows where Gian and Suneo had tossed the target dummy. As expected, Nobita got punished—made to stand through two full class periods.
When class ended, Daichi wandered around the classroom and hallways.
He couldn't shake the feeling that the voice from last night's call sounded familiar. But he couldn't remember exactly where he'd heard it. So he wandered, hoping to run into it again.
Then, as he passed a certain spot near their classroom, he heard it—a voice identical to the one from last night's call!
It was just one sentence, but he could never forget it.
Just as he was about to confront the person, the bell rang. Lucky break, he thought darkly. I'll let you go this time—but I'll be back.
At the next break, Daichi stood at the doorway, using his magic senses at full range, observing everyone around that seat.
Finally, he pinpointed him: a skinny boy in a light green shirt.
Was the mystery caller yesterday this kid—Karizaka?
As Daichi plotted his revenge, he paused. What if the later calls weren't him? The odds are low, but I can't risk punishing the wrong person.
So he decided to test the waters. He chanted a spell: Level 2 Magic – Detection Branch – Invisible Sprite! It would lose effectiveness past 100 meters, but it could explode—loudly.
Not dangerous, but loud enough to catch attention.
If he got another call that night and heard that voice again, then he'd know.
Hmph. If nothing happens tonight—or no call comes—I'll let it slide, Daichi thought with a grim smile.
But just then, Shizuka's voice cut through his thoughts.
"Dekisugi, I can't believe you're that kind of person! I'm never speaking to you again!" She stormed off in a huff.
Dekisugi chased after her to explain, but as Daichi knew—when a girl is mad, it doesn't matter her age. One phrase applies to all situations:
"I'm not listening!"
Daichi frowned in confusion, then suddenly remembered—it was a classic scene from Doraemon.
Dekisugi and Shizuka had swapped diaries. After reading hers, Shizuka found it covered in graffiti.
He vaguely remembered the culprit being… Nobita?
His gaze snapped to Nobita, who was shrinking in his seat.
"What do I do now? Turns out when I write on the screen, it shows up in the real notebook too?"
Nobita was desperate to erase the evidence. A diary could easily expose the truth.
Daichi was about to expose him, but for some reason, he stopped. Something in his subconscious told him not to.
He didn't know why. Shaking it off, he chose to act on instinct.
He walked up to Shizuka and asked, "Why are you so angry all of a sudden? What did Dekisugi do?"
Shizuka huffed, "I swapped diaries with him yesterday, and today mine is full of scribbles!"
She pulled out her notebook—filled with words like "dummy," "jerk," and stick figures yelling nonsense.
Daichi examined it and said, "There's no way Dekisugi's handwriting looks like that. These look exactly like Nobita's. I'd bet he used some gadget from Doraemon to do it."
As soon as he said that, Nobita's face turned pale. "N-no, I didn't do anything like that!"
Daichi sneered and calmly walked over to Nobita, pulled out his notebook, and held it up to Shizuka.
"Here's Nobita's handwriting. If you don't believe me, compare them. You'll see for yourself."
With that, he ignored Nobita, who had started visibly fading at his desk, and returned to his corner.
"What a good person I am. Helping classmates again today." As for Nobita's wails afterward… he heard nothing.
That afternoon, when they got home, Daichi noticed there was mail waiting. It was for Dekisugi—a foreign letter.
"Dekisugi, you've got mail!"
"Coming!" Dekisugi ran down and took the letter. "Oh, it's from my pen pal."
"Your pen pal's abroad?"
"No, he's a foreigner."
A foreigner… a foreigner…
"I'll go read the letter. Oh, and thanks for everything lately." Then he went back upstairs to write a reply.
Daichi said nothing.
The world had turned grey.
Today, yet again, was another day of being crushed by Dekisugi…
(End of Chapter)