Interlude 1
My wife loves youth romance comedies.
After finishing the household chores today, she was relaxing on the sofa in the living room, reading a popular romantic comedy manga that had just been announced for an anime adaptation.
Not only does she read manga, but she also watches anime, dramas, and sometimes even read light novels. I like to watch her from a little distance, enjoying her reactions as she reads. Sometimes she smiles, sometimes her expression becomes serious, and sometimes she looks tense or worried.
It’s because, usually, she’s so cool and composed, but at these moments, she becomes so expressive.
"What are you staring at?"
Noticing my gaze, she looked up and puffed her cheeks.
"No, I just thought it looked like you were really enjoying it," I said.
"Really! It’s super interesting! I feel like it’s such a waste that I didn’t read it earlier! Especially how well the heroine’s emotions are written…"
Her eyes sparkled as she enthusiastically talked about the manga she was reading. After a sigh, she dropped her shoulders.
"Ahh, I wish I could have had a student life like this."
"Was high school really that bad for you?"
"You’ve heard this before, right? It’s my biggest black history."
She sighed while holding her head and gave a bitter smile.
"Back then, I was overly prideful, just focused on studying... I didn’t do a single thing that felt like youth."
"But because of that, you graduated top of your class at Shichibō Academy, didn’t you?"
"Yeah, but looking back, I think there were so many other things I should have done. Like having a boyfriend."
"You were super popular, but you turned everyone down, right?"
"Yeah, because all the boys at that time seemed so childish to me. Now, looking back, I guess the childish one was me."
Maybe due to memories of high school flashing back, she buried her face in the cushion nearby and started kicking her legs.
"I think it was a good thing that you had a gloomy youth."
"Huh? Why?"
"Because thanks to that, I got to marry you."
"...!"
When I said this seriously, her face turned red.
"Don’t suddenly say something cool like that, idiot..."
She threw the cushion at me, then looked up at the ceiling and muttered,
"Ahh, I wish you had been there when I was in high school."
"If high school me confessed to you, would you have gone out with me?"
"Not a chance. I would have rejected you instantly."
"That’s harsh."
I pretended to be downhearted, and she smiled softly, walked over to me, and said,
"So, if something like going back to the past ever happened…"
She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then kissed me.
"Confess to me as many times as you need. Teach me about youth."
