"At that time, I was actually very lost."
"My mom had collapsed, my little sister was unhappy, but I couldn't do anything at all."
"I kept thinking, 'If only I had money.'" Ichinose Honami said softly. "And by coincidence, Asakusa-kun said exactly the same thing out loud, right there beside me."
"Ah… was my inner voice heard?"
"For some reason, that thought crossed my mind."
Ichinose slowly stirred the iced coffee the waiter had just brought over, her voice quiet and distant.
"If it hadn't been for that, no matter how lost I was back then, there's no way I would've just followed Asakusa-kun so easily, you know?"
She wasn't the kind of girl who could be led away by just a few words.
"Asakusa-kun saw through what I was thinking, said exactly what was in my heart, and then took out money right in front of me," she said. "There was no way I could refuse that ten thousand yen at the time."
"Honestly, when I first followed him, I did regret it a little. I kept thinking—what if Asakusa-kun asked me to do something terrible? I probably wouldn't even be able to resist."
Even though Ichinose Honami believed she wasn't physically weak, there was still a clear difference between men and women—especially when she was alone.
"But I never expected that what Asakusa-kun wanted me to do… was tear down missing-person posters."
She couldn't help but smile. "At first, I thought it was really awful. Someone's child had gone missing, and you still wanted to do something like that—was that really okay?"
"So heartless. I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't let go of the money in my hand. All I could see was my mom and my sister in the hospital."
"...It was the first time I ever felt like I was doing something truly wrong."
At the beginning, she hesitated, unable to reach out, afraid of what would happen if someone saw her—afraid of being pointed at and judged.
But maybe he got tired of her slow pace. Asakusa glanced at her, then decisively tore down the missing-person poster in front of her and stuffed it into her hands.
"Only tear down the ones for this person," he said.
"There had to be a reason… there had to be some reason," she told herself, nervous but obedient as she followed his instructions.
"I tore down a lot. Asakusa-kun tore down even more. It was like he knew exactly where they were posted—moving in a straight line, tearing them down one after another."
Ichinose took a small sip of her iced coffee to wet her throat.
"So I started thinking—maybe the person on the poster had already been found? Maybe that's why the posters weren't needed anymore?"
If that were true, maybe the faint guilt in her heart could be eased.
"But Asakusa-kun didn't answer my question. Instead, he took the stack of posters—apparently all of them—and pressed the doorbell."
Ding-dong, ding-dong.
The chime rang again and again.
She could clearly see the name by the door—the same surname printed on the posters.
Natsuki.
Soon after, a man wearing glasses opened the door. He looked exhausted, completely drained of energy, his head hanging low.
He was probably Mr. Natsuki.
His face closely resembled the photo on the missing-person posters.
"Y-you've come…"
After listlessly glancing at Asakusa, Mr. Natsuki's eyes quickly locked onto the thick stack of posters in Asakusa's hands.
Hope surfaced in his gaze.
"Have you… found him?" he asked.
After stuffing the torn-down posters heavily into his hands, Asakusa replied with a smile:
"Yeah. He's in another world. Being a simp."
"...?"
"Hm? Was that not clear enough?"
Tilting his head, Asakusa continued casually.
"Your son got isekai'd to another world to be a simp."
"He clings to pretty girls' thighs crying 'I want to be a simp,' wanders around in a tracksuit, dies four times before even learning the heroine's real name, gets hacked to death, revives, gets hacked again, revives again—every revival more determined to be a simp, proud to be a simp, devoted to being a simp—"
He rattled on in a rapid-fire monologue.
Only then did Mr. Natsuki snap out of it.
His expression twisted as he shoved Asakusa away and slammed the door shut.
Bang—
A lunatic.
He must've been too desperate to find his son—otherwise, why would he ever listen to something so absurd?
The torn posters in his hands were thick, most of them ripped unevenly. He'd probably have to print new ones and put them up again.
Mr. Natsuki let out a heavy sigh inside the house.
But outside, right in front of Ichinose Honami, Asakusa calmly pulled out a megaphone.
"Your son went to another world to be a simp—!"
The amplified voice pierced straight through the door.
"He spends all day playing games in his room, sneaks out to the convenience store for instant noodles late at night, wears a tracksuit, gets dragged into another world, thinks isekai gives him OP buffs, punches thugs, kicks thugs, gets scared by a knife and drops to his knees crying, then gets saved by a passing pretty girl, falls in love at first sight, swears loyalty, decides to be a simp, follows her around, runs into danger, gets cut down on the spot, reloads, decides to keep simping—!"
"Dies more, simps harder! Lives again, simps stronger! Ultimate simp! Invincible battle wolf! Save-load master!"
With the megaphone, Asakusa's already nonstop rant became unbearably loud. Even covering his ears inside the house, Mr. Natsuki must have heard every word.
Finally, he snapped.
The door flew open again.
His blood, which had gone cold, now burned hot. His head heated up, and the words burst out uncontrollably.
"Are you insane?!"
"Is it fun to rip open other people's wounds like this?! If you want to pull a prank, couldn't you do it literally anywhere else?!"
The expression behind his glasses was terrifyingly distorted.
"What Asakusa-kun did was really too much."
Ichinose Honami showed a hint of reproach in her eyes.
"I could clearly feel Mr. Natsuki's anger too. If Asakusa-kun had apologized then, even if he was furious, Mr. Natsuki probably would've accepted it."
"But Asakusa-kun had no intention of apologizing at all."
"So… I had to be the one to apologize."
She had to.
Otherwise, her conscience wouldn't allow it—and the banknote burning in her pocket would never cool down.
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