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524 — Good Girl, From Now On Just Stick with Hojou-kun
🕑 Added 2025-09-16 15:20:08 +0000 UTC“Aki, why haven’t you actually explained why Hojou attacked you? I thought you two wouldn’t even cross paths,” Mr. Hyoudo asked, puzzled.
The “Hojou Kyousuke” described by his two nephews was strangely both unified and split at once.
They agreed on one thing: both boys believed Hojou Kyousuke was a peerless genius with talent far beyond his daughter’s.
But they disagreed in how they pictured him.
Ryouta painted Hojou as brilliant and disciplined—someone who, despite being the strongest in kendo, still took rests and lived with calm, genteel manners; who would even join the baseball club as a savior because his nephew asked.
Aki, on the other hand, described Hojou as a violent maniac—any association with him equals mortal danger.
If Hojou were truly a violent man, no matter how talented, Hyoudo wouldn’t want his daughter anywhere near him.
As a father, he understood how dangerously attractive an exceptional man could be.
Look at his two nephews: they’d practically turned into zealots.
Imagine what would happen to other girls.
Talent can amplify a man’s appeal to a terrifying degree—Aki’s example made that crystal clear.
Even after being beaten to a pulp, the moment Hojou’s name came up, admiration shone on his face.
Hyoudo didn’t want his daughter covered in bruises, crazily worshipping a man while playing guitar for him.
The contradiction hinged on Aki Tomoya’s assault.
Hitting people is wrong, yes—but motives matter.
You can’t abolish capital punishment just because killing is bad, right?
Before anyone else could speak, Tsuchiya Ryouta snorted derisively: “Do you even need to ask? I already want to beat the crap out of that guy.”
If not for that unlucky bastard, Uncle Hyoudo and Michiru would’ve been in our grasp long ago.
Mrs. Hyoudo silently agreed, then stepped forward to lightly scold her sister’s son with a playful pat on the shoulder.
“Ryouta, you shouldn’t say things like that—you’re family, after all.”
“Yeah… why are we even related?” Tsuchiya sighed dramatically.
Aki frowned.
His cousin’s hostility felt inexplicable—he’d only told the truth.
But the thing he wanted to say was something else; his uncle’s words had dug up a lingering regret.
“Oh—about that.” He let out a heavy sigh.
Really? There’s more to this? Hyoudo straightened up.
“Tomoya might be a little weird sometimes, but he’d never do anything to deserve getting beaten!” Michiru protested.
To her, Tomoya had his quirks, but he wasn’t a despicable person.
“Yes! I was only trying to do what was best for Hojou-sensei, and then I was treated like that,” Aki said indignantly.
“Hm?!” Both Hyoudo and Ryouta froze.
“I think I mentioned it before, Michiru—last year and into early this year I was working part-time at a game company,” Aki told his cousin.
“Oh—wasn’t it that monkey company? I remember you posting a bunch on your blog about running errands?” Michiru tried to recall.
If it weren’t for anything related to Tomoya, she wouldn’t waste brainpower remembering it.
“It wasn’t ‘monkey.’ It was Mars! Remember that name—that company’s top-tier in the industry!” Aki frowned and emphasized.
“Whatever—sounds the same to me…” Michiru trailed off, then seeing his annoyed look, hastily corrected herself, “Okay, okay, got it. Mars. Mars.”
“It’s Marz!” Aki snapped.
“Marz, Marz—fine! Your English isn’t that great either…” Michiru teased.
“In any case, the company I joined—”
“Geez, ‘joined’—you were a temp, nothing fancy,” Tsuchiya cut in.
Aki shot a disdainful glare at his foolish cousin.
Was a game dev meeting not a meeting?
Didn’t Ryouta understand how brutal and glorious their campaigns were?
The whole world depended on them!
“That company’s president saw Hojou-sensei’s talent the same way I did—”
“Stop flattering yourself,” Ryouta interrupted again. “Hojou’s just dazzling. Don’t act like your taste is on par with a big-company CEO.”
“Are you done?” Aki snapped back, anger flaring.
Ryouta tensed to fight, but Hyoudo-san restrained him gently and sat him back down.
“The president’s name is Kosaka Akane.
She built a media empire that rules the industry—her talent rivals Hojou’s.
If they worked together, they could start a whole new era: two brilliant stars lighting up Tokyo skies!” Aki proclaimed, eyes shining.
To most it sounded juvenile, but in the way he said it, you could see the clarity beneath the melodrama.
It made Kosaka Akane’s brilliance undeniable.
Hearing Aki gush about Hojou again, Ryouta settled into silence for the moment.
Hyoudo grew even more puzzled—weren’t we supposed to be talking about why Aki was beaten? Why was his eldest nephew gushing nonstop?
“Luckily, President Kosaka knew this too. She brought me with her to Hojou-sensei’s company that day.” Aki continued.
“Wait, Tomoya—weren’t you just running errands? Why were you taken to something so important?” Michiru asked.
“Because I and President Kosaka shared the same goal! From the start I knew Hojou-sensei’s gift shouldn’t be wasted managing a company.
If he joined a mature, powerful firm like Marz, he’d be free to unleash his talent. Sure, there were a few other… irrelevant reasons too.
But the main thing is—I have a heart that wants to create great works!” Aki declared.
Oddly, Michiru felt the “irrelevant reasons” were probably the real ones.
How could ordinary Tomoya have been noticed by someone so big otherwise?
“And then?” she pressed, a little flatly.
First Hojou, now Kosaka Akane—Tomoya kept praising others.
He used to follow her around like a shadow; grown-up him was different.
Well, that change had started when he fell into otaku culture—her dislike for that circle remained strong.
“And then—” Aki’s eyes brightened as he described all the preparations Kosaka had made to secure Hojou: leveraging industry influence to pressure rivals.
Blocking hiring channels, even imitating and undermining rival artists and novelists with tailored work… he rattled off the whole strategy with theatrical zeal.
“…”
Mr. Hyoudo’s eyes widened as he sucked in a sharp breath.
Suddenly, it no longer seemed strange at all that Aki Tomoya had been beaten.
For Hojou Kyousuke—a mere high schooler to stay calm and collected in the face of such outrageous behavior, and even invite Aki and President Kosaka into his company, that alone proved him worthy of being called a genius.
His composure and magnanimity were far beyond what ordinary people could muster.
Glancing at his other nephew, Tsuchiya Ryouta, Mr. Hyoudo wasn’t surprised to see a proud, almost smug smile spreading across his face.
Michiru’s own expression grew complicated.
Even with her natural bias toward Aki, she couldn’t find words to defend him anymore.
All she could do was console herself by blaming everything on Kosaka Akane.
After all, Aki was just the errand boy… right?
“So that’s why Hojou Kyousuke beat you up?” Mr. Hyoudo asked at last, his tone tinged with sudden understanding.
If it had been him in Hojou’s place, he would’ve doused them with a bucket of filth right at the door—or at the very least poured oil on the floor to make them slip headfirst.
“Huh? What are you talking about? Why would I get beaten over something like that?”
Aki blinked in total confusion, his face twisted with bafflement.
“Everything President Kosaka did was out of admiration for Hojou-sensei’s talent! Sure, her methods were a little aggressive.
But the point was to make sure his genius wasn’t wasted! It’s the same with you, Michiru—if your band really manages to shine at the livehouse.
When I officially start making games, I’d definitely ask for your help too!”
“Eh?! No way. I told you, I have zero interest in otaku stuff!” Michiru shook her head so violently that even her ample chest bounced in protest.
Her whole body radiated rejection.
“But Michiru, if your musical ability is as strong as your skills in basketball or ballet, don’t you think it’d be a waste not to use it?” Aki asked, genuinely shocked.
“So the only kind of talent you think is worth saving is the kind that connects to your otaku hobbies? While I was leading the basketball team to the district finals, you skipped cheering me on just to go to a signing event?”
Her voice carried an unmistakable complexity, and everyone could hear it.
“That’s because I don’t know anything about basketball, and I couldn’t care less about that kind of thing.
But that signing event was Kasumi Utako-sensei’s final release of Love Metronome! How could I miss that?” Aki answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“…I see.”
Michiru lowered her head, suddenly losing all interest in why Aki had been beaten.
Her voice softened, tinted with disappointment.
“That’s exactly why I want to put everything into the band. There’s no way I’d split my focus just to help you make games.”
“That’s not true at all! Working on game music could actually feed back into your band, broadening your composition skills.
Tons of musicians have gained so much by composing for games!” Aki argued passionately, listing case after case of singers who benefited from it.
“If that’s the case, wouldn’t cheering for Hojou Kyousuke and his baseball team have the same effect?”
It sounded almost like she was sulking, but for the first time, Michiru’s words hinted at the possibility of joining her cousin’s baseball cheering squad—for Hojou Kyousuke’s sake.
“But whether or not Hojou-sensei can actually lead the team to victory is still a big unknown, isn’t it? His real talents are in ACG, not baseball.”
“And whether I can succeed in music isn’t a guarantee either, is it?”
“That’s different—Michiru, you will succeed.”
“…Aki?”
Her eyes, dim only moments ago, flickered with light again.
“Because you’ve always been that kind of person, haven’t you? No matter what it is, the second you touch it, you’re already ahead of me.
Even if you resist otaku culture now, once you actually experience it, you’ll definitely like it. Besides, haven’t you already been invited to perform at a livehouse?”
“Livehouses aren’t only for otaku! Rock—Icy Tail is a rock band!” Michiru snapped, raising her voice.
For the first time, she showed real anger toward Aki.
‘Why do you always have to twist the things I love into something I hate?’
“Ahem. Aki, why don’t you get back to your story,” Mr. Hyoudo cut in, breaking the rising tension.
Without realizing it, he had even grown more familiar in the way he referred to Hojou—“Hojou-kun.”
At this point, he hardly cared why Aki had been beaten.
From what he’d heard so far, that alone was more than enough to prove his nephew had brought it on himself.
This boy was just far too self-centered.
Whether it was about Hojou, or even just now with his daughter, everything was drenched in self-importance.
What did he even mean by “wasting talent”?
Why was doing things Aki’s way the only way not to waste it?
Why was it a waste to pursue your own passion, but not a waste to drop everything just to help him?
Mr. Hyoudo clenched his fists, his teeth grinding.
His mind replayed Ryouta’s bitter little sigh—“Why are we related?”—and for the first time, he found himself echoing it.
Even as her father, he had never once thought Michiru was “wasting” her talent.
And yet here was Aki, someone who had never lifted a finger for her, speaking with that tone… that entitlement.
Where did he get the right?
Why are we related!?
The thought roared in his mind.
Still, he pressed on, trying to glean more about this Hojou Kyousuke.
“…What do you mean, ‘such an outrageous thing’?”
Aki muttered inwardly but didn’t argue.
His need to vent was overwhelming now.
He wanted to spill everything—the ungratefulness of Hojou-sensei, of Eriri, of Kasumi Utako-sensei.
“And then,” Aki continued, “there’s actually someone I know working in Hojou-sensei’s company. My childhood friend.”
“…Childhood friend? Since when?!” Michiru stiffened instantly.
She’d been with him since birth—how could there possibly be a childhood friend she didn’t know about?
“It was after elementary school. Back then, you were busy with ballet.”
Aki remembered it vividly.
They’d all gone to watch a ballet performance together.
Michiru had immediately spun three and a half pirouettes perfectly on the spot.
He, on the other hand, had barely lifted a foot before crashing down.
And in that moment of humiliation, Eriri had drawn him into the dreamlike world of otaku culture.
“But…”
Michiru started to object, but her father’s hand silenced her.
“Michiru. Let him finish.”
“That girl made her debut as the illustrator for Hojou-sensei’s very first manga,” Aki explained.
“Sure, she’s talented—but after all these years by his side, she hasn’t improved at all. She’s just been dragging down both Hojou-sensei and Kasumi Utako-sensei.”
Even now, the memory burned.
Aki’s anger flared again at the thought of Eriri trying to erase him from the picture entirely.
“And?” Mr. Hyoudo prompted, sensing something off.
“So I told her straight to quit the company and join Marz instead. To stop holding Hojou-sensei back.” Aki said it like it was the most obvious truth in the world.
Another collective silent filled the room as everyone exhaled sharply.
March into another man’s company, tell his partner she’s a dead weight, and order her to get lost?
Mr. Hyoudo caught an important detail in all this.
Hojou’s first work had been completed with this girl’s help.
A brilliant boy and a gifted girl—wasn’t that a perfect match, a destined pairing?
So how on earth had it become, in Aki’s mouth, a tale of a girl “holding him back”?
And to make it worse… this was his so-called childhood friend.
Hyoudo Michiru had thought of the same thing, so she asked, “So Tomo got beaten up because of that?”
“Huh? Why would I get beaten up over something like that?” Aki Tomoya was utterly baffled. “Is that even something you get hit for?”
“What—you haven’t been hit yet?! Hojou actually has that good of a temper?”
Mr. Hyoudo was floored.
This wasn’t some violent brute—this was practically a living Buddha.
If he hadn’t known from the start that Aki Tomoya had been beaten half to death, he might’ve thought Hojou Kyousuke was just a weak pushover.
“That’s why I told you from the beginning,” Tsuchiya Ryouta said, his face glowing with pride.
“Hojou-kun isn’t just incredibly strong—he’s a man of outstanding character. Anyone who’s met him at our school can tell you that. No one who’s come into contact with him has failed to be impressed.”
“I’ll definitely have to visit, then.”
In Hyoudo Michiru’s heart, the image of a violent delinquent quietly began to crumble.
“Seriously, Eriri’s just spoiled because of her privileged family,” Aki Tomoya grumbled bitterly. “Like back in elementary school—her dad was a British diplomat, so she ditched me to hang out in some other fancy circle.”
He’d eventually come to terms with it.
If not for her family background, Eriri wouldn’t have had the option to leave. She would’ve had no choice but to fight it out by his side until the end.
“Wait—what? A British diplomat?! That Eriri girl’s father is a British diplomat?”
Mr. Hyoudo ignored Aki Tomoya’s petty complaints and instantly honed in on the important detail.
“Yeah, Eriri’s father’s a British diplomat. She’s even got the same blond hair as him,” Aki Tomoya said offhandedly.
Even the daughter of a British diplomat is following Hojou around?
At that, Mr. Hyoudo’s respect deepened.
After all, America might be Japan’s “parent,” but if you traced the family tree, Britain was America’s parent—which technically made Britain Japan’s grandparent.
And the granddaughter of Britain—Japan’s metaphorical grandpa—was studying in Tokyo? That was no ordinary background.
Just sharing a meal with someone like that might give him leverage in his next round of business negotiations.
In an instant, all hesitation about his daughter mingling with Hojou Kyousuke vanished.
In fact, he was excited about it.
His daughter was precious to him, and the daughter of a British diplomat was clearly precious to her family too.
If they were happy to have their daughter around Hojou Kyousuke, then what complaint could he possibly have?
A shame, though—if he’d known earlier that the daughter of a British diplomat was attending school in Tokyo, he would’ve enrolled Michiru at the same place.
At least he was glad his daughter had dragged Aki Tomoya along today.
Sure, the kid spewed a lot of irritating nonsense, but he’d also handed over a wealth of valuable information about Hojou.
That idiot Ryouta only ever went on about kendo and baseball.
But Aki? Aki actually understood.
He highlighted Hojou’s gentlemanly character, his powerful connections, his overwhelming personal charm—everything.
“Aki, go on,” Mr. Hyoudo said kindly.
“Next comes the part where I got beaten up,” Aki Tomoya said, grinding his teeth in frustration.
“Honestly, it was just because Hojou-sensei was deceived by others. It wasn’t just spoiled brats like Eriri—there were airheaded idiots like Nishimiya Shouko, too.”
‘Huh? Another girl’s name?’
Mr. Hyoudo instinctively grew wary.
Still, it lined up with his suspicions.
For women, a guy like Hojou was like an opium poppy—dangerous, but impossible to resist.
“That Nishimiya Shouko—she’s hearing-impaired, yet she still dreams of becoming a voice actress. That’s ridiculous! Of course I had to tell Hojou-sensei.
“And then he hit me down with a sword.”
“Serves you right!”
“Serves you right!”
The words came in unison—one from Tsuchiya Ryouta, the other from Michiru’s aunt.
The other three Hyoudos, though polite enough not to say it aloud, all had the same expression written plainly across their faces.
As soon as he finished scolding, Tsuchiya Ryouta was struck by an odd, complicated feeling.
This Aki Tomoya… how should he put it?
The guy was abstract.
Was he actually asking people to hate him online with comments like that?
Ryouta’s emotions tangled.
At first, he thought Aki was just some random passerby.
Then it turned out he was badmouthing Hojou behind his back.
But in the end… it felt like Aki Tomoya was practically a saint, a true ally.
He was willingly sacrificing his own reputation to showcase Hojou’s brilliance.
If Ryouta didn’t know better, he’d swear this guy had been hired as a professional actor.
