When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a plain white ceiling.
Where it met the walls, there wasn't even a hint of decoration—just bare, unadorned simplicity.
'I'm back,' Kyousuke thought, a faint sense of loss welling up inside him.
Sometimes, he felt that he and Mitsuha were like two trains—occasionally running on parallel tracks, but never destined to meet. Because if they did, it could only end in disaster.
He chuckled to himself.
'What am I even thinking?'
This is supposed to be a romantic comedy, no time to be brooding like some tragic hero.
Without using his hands, he tightened his core and sat straight up, silently proud of how strong his body was.
Then his gaze landed on the trophy on the nightstand... and next to it, that cursed bottle of unspeakable beverage.
The yellow label modestly read "Cheese Drink," but the terror it evoked was all too real.
It wasn't "cheese-flavored."
No, it was actual drinkable cheese—a special concoction from Hokkaido.
His dad had sent some during his third year, and after taking one sip, Kyousuke didn't even let the curious Sakura try it.
He flushed the rest straight down the toilet.
He picked up the bottle and inspected it.
Just one sip had been taken, and the cap hadn't even been screwed back on.
'Miyamizu Mitsuha... you really went through a lot, huh.'
He didn't know what would compel her to try something like that, but he carefully sealed the cap and made a mental note to toss it later.
Then he noticed the trophies beside it: Team Champion, Individual Champion, Fighting Spirit Award…
"Well, well—look at that! As expected of someone I had my eye on," Kyousuke said cheerfully, picking up the trophy for a closer look.
Was there any better feeling than waking up and realizing you'd swept an entire competition without even remembering it?
The last time something like this happened was in his previous life, when he'd tagged along with top students and racked up awards just by cheering them on.
He couldn't recall what exactly had happened during the body swap, but he was certain it had been a good time.
After all, Kyousuke wasn't the kind of guy to make things hard for himself.
He walked to the corner of the room and opened his suitcase, ready to grab a change of clothes.
That's when he noticed something odd—besides his own suitcase, the other three boxes filled with gifts hadn't even been touched.
"Huh? Mitsuha didn't give my parents the gifts I packed?" he muttered.
Curious, he went back to the nightstand and grabbed his phone, opening the memo app.
Just as expected, the first day's notes were all food reviews.
Praise for the first-class airplane meals. Glowing words about Kushiro's robatayaki.
Still, how did the shrine maiden get along so well with his mom? Surely that airheaded woman wouldn't mistake someone else for her own son, right?
Of course, with Kyousuke's intelligence, he knew full well that Sakura, Shouko, and the others had definitely realized it wasn't him during the last Sakura Festival.
But being the lazy guy he was, he chose to play dumb.
'If no one says anything, then there's no problem. We'll deal with it if it comes up!'
But to think Mitsuha had also managed to fool his mother? That was shocking.
His mom might play the ditz sometimes, but when it came to her precious son, she turned into a world-class detective.
Even as a kid, when he scraped his knee and tried to hide it, she'd see right through him instantly and dote on him like the world was ending.
The memo for the second day was even simpler:
———————————————————————
"Victory!"
———————————————————————
Okay, that wasn't all it said.
It went on with detailed, vivid descriptions of the fearless shrine maiden steamrolling the competition.
She'd even remembered the name of every school her opponents came from.
"Kyousuke, are you still sleeping in there?"
A familiar, warm voice called out from behind the door.
It was his mom of course.
Even though his subordinates' rooms were right next to his, she still barged in like she owned the place.
Well, to be fair, Kyousuke had to admit—she had toned it down a little.
At least she wasn't like when he was a kid.
Back then, if Sakura woke up early and he was still asleep, his mischievous mom would open his door and let Sakura jump right onto his bed.
The poor boy would get pummeled by an overly energetic little girl while half-asleep and grumpy.
"I'm up, I'm up," he called back.
No time to dwell on Mitsuha's interactions with his mom.
Kyousuke opened the suitcase and was immediately greeted by a sight that could cure any case of OCD.
Every article of clothing was perfectly folded, sorted by size and color, with not a single item sticking out or sinking in.
Naturally, he hadn't done any of this himself.
Despite his obsessive tendencies, he hated packing.
If it were up to him, he'd walk out the door with nothing but his wallet and nowadays, he had the financial freedom to do just that.
Knowing he was coming home, three girls had carved out time during their busy final exams to help him pack.
Every piece of clothing had been carefully ironed by Naoka, then folded by Shouko, who arranged them with meticulous logic.
If one item threw off the height balance, she'd pull it out and swap it for another of the perfect thickness.
If she couldn't get it perfect, she'd kneel in front of the suitcase, puffing her cheeks in frustration and making adorable grumbling sounds.
In the end, Kyousuke had to come over and press everything down with brute force—only then did Shouko flash a sunny smile again.
As for Sakura?
She'd spent the whole time trying to stuff the best snacks she'd collected all semester into one suitcase.
If Kyousuke hadn't strictly told her she could only use one case, she probably would've ended up spending triple the airfare on baggage fees.
As Kyousuke changed his clothes, Hojou Mikiko standing outside the room heard her son's voice and immediately knew: this was her real son. Not Mitsuha.
"Morning, Mom," Kyousuke said as he opened the door, flashing a smile at his eternally youthful-looking mother.
"Kyousuke!"
Mikiko threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around her now-taller son and bursting into tears.
"Ah geez, honey, not again..." Hojou Ichirou rushed over in a panic.
He knew better than to try and stop his wife, so he turned his frustration on their son instead.
"You brat, can't you ever come home without causing a scene?!"
"Huh?" Kyousuke blinked, caught in his mother's emotional hug.
'Shouldn't this scene have happened at the airport the day before yesterday?' He had a feeling he knew why, though.
Smiling gently, he returned the embrace and softly, but firmly, said:
"Mom, I'm home."
At those words, Mikiko cried even harder.
The commotion in the hallway caught the attention of Kisaki Tetta and the others.
Seeing what was going on, Kisaki quickly ordered his men to form a wall at both ends of the corridor, giving their boss and his family some well-earned privacy.
"Kyousuke, your mom's pregnant. Don't let her keep crying like this—it's not good for her health."
Seeing his wife on the verge of crying out every ounce of longing she'd bottled up over the past six months, Ichirou Hojou hurriedly whispered to his son.
"What? Is it a little brother or sister?" Kyousuke asked in surprise.
He knew from experience that when it came to his mom, you didn't need a long speech just toss out a new topic and her attention would rocket off into the outer galaxy.
"You're such a dummy, Kyousuke. She's only one month pregnant, how could we possibly know if it's a boy or girl already?"
"You're in middle school, and you don't know that much?" Sure enough, with that one line, Mikiko Hojou launched into a cheerful tirade of pregnancy trivia.
Kyousuke let go of his mother and listened to her rambling with a gentle smile.
He didn't bother correcting her or admitting that he actually did know how far along she was.
In fact, not only did he know that a baby's gender could be detected at eight weeks via a blood test, he also knew that a chorionic villus sampling could confirm it between ten and twelve weeks.
Why would a guy who's been single for two lifetimes know this stuff?
Well because he'd been set on becoming a great husband ever since he was a kid. Isn't that just the basics?
Today, they were headed for Otaru not just Kyousuke and his family, but also Kisaki Tetta and four other members of the kendo club.
The return flight was covered by the school, but Kyousuke had taken care of everyone's travel expenses to Otaru.
If Onizuka and the others didn't still have a tournament coming up, he would've invited the whole club over to his hometown.
With emotions in check, they all got back into the rental car driven by Ichirou Hojou.
This time, Kisaki Tetta sat in the front passenger seat, while Kyousuke and his mother sat in the second row. Mikiko hadn't let go of her son's arm once since they reunited.
———————————————————————
Robatayaki Shirakaba.
Seeing that familiar name and the iconic birch tree outside, Kisaki Tetta couldn't help but sigh internally.
'Again? Three days in a row at the same place?'
But he didn't ask.
He understood—those first two meals had been enjoyed by Kyousuke's alternate personality.
His real boss hadn't had a proper taste yet.
Just like Mikiko Hojou, he'd known from the first glance that Kyousuke was back to normal.
The aura around a person is easy to sense—especially if it's someone close to you.
"So the restaurant's called Shirakaba because they use birchwood for the grill?" Kyousuke asked.
"Hahaha! Didn't you already ask that yesterday?" Mikiko teased, shooting him a sly grin before launching into an explanation before he could even try to deny it.
"Nope! It's just because there's a big birch tree holding up the place. That's it. The name was decided just like that. Pretty typical of how casually people in Japan choose their surnames too, huh?"
"Wow, that's so random," Kyousuke muttered.
He didn't care how Mitsuha had managed to hold a conversation with his mom yesterday. He wasn't about to ask—unless his mom brought it up herself.
———————————————————————
During the meal, Goro Hata and Ryouma Mitsuhashi had the same realization.
The celebration yesterday had been fun, sure—but today's lunch just hit different.
Yesterday's "Boss" had been gentler, more reserved. But they were used to living under the terrifying pressure of the "Handless Demon."
This version of the Boss?
Now that felt right.
———————————————————————
In the afternoon, instead of flying from Kushiro to Chitose Airport and then transferring to Otaru, Kyousuke chose to take the JR Hokkaido train all the way.
It wasn't about saving on airfare—he just found trains way more comfortable for short trips like this.
Plus, he'd already bought everyone JR Hokkaido 4-Day Passes, which let them ride freely on any JR Hokkaido train for four days.
Okay… if we're being honest, it was also because this guy—who hadn't yet gotten his fill of the good life—was afraid of plane crashes.
'Zombies attacking a train? Easy.'
Give him a stick and he'd carve a path to safety.
'But at 10,000 meters in the air?'
Nope. He hadn't grown wings yet, and he hadn't unlocked any hidden inner energy either.
Ships didn't rank much higher in his travel preferences.
Even with great stamina, he didn't think he could swim to land before death caught up with him in the middle of the endless sea.
———————————————————————
They boarded the Tokkyuu Ozora, a special 261 Series train that runs between Kushiro and Sapporo.
Its matte silver body had a bold purple stripe running from front to back, making you wonder if it was a favorite local color or just another anime collab.
Four and a half hours later, under the night sky, the group finally arrived in Otaru—once called the "Wall Street of the North" in Japan.
———————————————————————
"You guys really want to stay at my place?" Kyousuke asked as they stepped out of JR Otaru Station, glancing at the four kendo club members.
"Of course!" they replied in perfect unison.
Getting to see the environment that raised someone as legendary as their boss? That was an honor beyond compare.
"Well… if it makes you happy."
Even though his mom had assured him there was plenty of space at home, Kyousuke knew that staying with adults could be awkward for younger people.
He'd been planning to book hotel rooms for them.
But clearly, these idiots were dead set on experiencing the full Hojou family welcome.
———————————————————————
"Old man! I'm home!"
Ichirou Hojou pulled the car into the garage and shouted. The space was limited, so he'd just driven over to haul the luggage back.
After all, their house was only about a kilometer from the station. The rest of the group was walking back.
"Huh? Why are you the only one here? Where's Kyousuke? Where's Mikiko?"
Hearing the voice, Hojou Yuuichi opened the door excitedly but when he didn't see his grandson, his eyebrows shot up like angry caterpillars.
His already fierce eyes made him look like a bandit boss straight out of a samurai film.
"Mikiko's walking back with Kyousuke and the others," Ichirou explained as he easily lifted the bulky 28-inch suitcases from the trunk.
"Then what're you standing around for?! Let's go pick them up!" As a ranch owner, the Hojou family had more than just a sedan—they also kept a pickup for hauling cargo.
"..." Ichirou ignored the impatient grandpa, figuring by the time they got to the road, Kyousuke and the others would be walking through the door anyway.
Yuuichi puffed his cheeks in frustration at his son's laziness, but still went over and picked up a suitcase with one hand.
———————————————————————
"So this is Big Boss's house…" Goro Hata looked up dramatically at the white-walled, blue-tiled, four-story house.
On the train, Kyousuke had strictly told everyone not to call him "Boss" while they were in Otaru.
And absolutely no mention of the "Handless Demon."
Anyone who slipped up? He'd personally make them swim in the Otaru Canal for three hours.
Seriously, going around shouting "Boss" all day could attract the attention of local gangs—
No, worse—it might scare the living daylights out of his grandparents!
———————————————————————
This is my home.
Kyousuke also looked up at the building.
Compared to Tokyo, this house felt solid—and seeing it through new eyes, his sense of wonder was even greater than Hata's.
"It's probably because the building regulations here in Hokkaido like the floor area ratio and coverage ratio are different from Tokyo," Kisaki explained, pushing up his glasses as he addressed the curious stares of his teammates.
"That's amazing," murmured Ryouma Mitsuhashi and another still-unnamed club member in unison.
From the moment they stepped out of JR Otaru Station, those two had been repeating that same phrase over and over again, like they were on loop.
What, do they think this is some kind of demon king's lair?
Just as Kyousuke was silently roasting them, the front door of the house swung open—and a booming laugh echoed out:
"Ha ha ha! Welcome, welcome!"
Yikes. So this mountain bandit-looking guy is actually my grandpa?
Kyousuke took back what he was thinking earlier—maybe this place really is a bit wild.
He hadn't seen many pictures of his grandfather before; the old man didn't like taking photos.
The only glimpses he'd had were from videos his dad took on the farm—usually with his grandpa wearing a straw hat, rubber overalls, and working the fields.
Seeing him now, dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks, was a whole new shock.
"So strong…" Ryouma murmured again, eyes wide as he glanced back and forth between the imposing figure at the door and Kyousuke, clearly stunned.
"Looks like he inherited his looks and brains from his parents… and that raw strength from Grandpa," Kisaki Tetta mused to himself, eyeing how the man's white shirt was straining over a seriously jacked frame.
"Yuuichi, don't block the doorway. Let the kids in!" A warm, kind-looking woman—probably in her fifties—appeared beside him with a smile.
"Grandpa, Grandma. It's been a while. I'm glad to see you both looking well," Kyousuke greeted them politely and handed over the gifts he'd prepared.
Behind him, Kisaki and the others bowed and offered respectful greetings of their own.
"Nice to meet you all! Come on in, don't be shy!" Grandpa Yuuichi pulled Kyousuke into a rough hug, slapping him hard on the back.
"You've grown strong! Just like they say—the Handless Demon, eh?"
Kyousuke's eyes flew wide open.
He shot a stunned look at his mom, only to see her doubled over, covering her mouth as she laughed uncontrollably.
Dead. He was socially dead.
He turned back to his grandfather in disbelief.
How could someone his age say that ridiculous nickname with a straight face? Was he born with chuunibyou flowing in his veins?
The warmth of the reunion instantly cooled.
Kyousuke was now seriously considering shoving his friends into a hotel room down the street. There was a nice one just 500 meters away—the Otaru Furukawa.
Maybe he could convince them to go stay there before this embarrassment escalated.
Unlike Kyousuke, though, his teammates seemed to relax after hearing Grandpa call him by that fearsome nickname.
The tension in their shoulders eased.
If it weren't for Kyousuke's earlier warning, they probably would've already started bragging about their legendary captain.
Dinner was a feast.
Premium beef and seafood were laid out across the table—high-end stuff all around.
Kyousuke had a feeling that by the end of this trip, he'd be sick of seafood for life.
After dinner, Kyousuke handed out the gifts he brought from Tokyo.
Among them: copies of his manga's published volumes.
"Oho! So this is your manga, Kyousuke?" his dad, Hojou Ichirou, said, flipping through the pages with interest.
"Wow! One punch to defeat such a strong monster?" Grandpa exclaimed.
"Yes," Kyousuke replied, doing his best to maintain composure despite feeling like he was being publicly executed.
"The whole idea behind the story was to create a character who could do exactly that."
He hadn't expected his grandpa—at his age!—to be able to follow a manga. Respect.
"You should make a character based on me next time. Strong as hell, punches through walls—that kind of vibe!" Grandpa said enthusiastically.
"…Sure, no problem," Kyousuke replied with a stiff smile.
And suddenly, he realized where that sense of déjà vu came from—his grandpa looked exactly like a black-haired Bang from One Punch Man.
Even his grandma had picked up a copy, and now his teammates were re-reading it too.
The living room had transformed into a full-on manga book club.
"I'm going out for a walk," Kyousuke said politely, desperate to escape the sheer embarrassment that had set up camp in his soul.
"I'll come with you, Big Bro," Kisaki said quickly, setting his book down.
"No need. You stay," Kyousuke waved him off, ducking out the door while his mom called after him, "You remember the way back, right?"
As expected, the moment he stepped outside, he could still hear the group inside talking about One Punch Man—especially Goro's loud, excited voice.
Out on the quiet road, Kyousuke finally let out a long breath.
It had been a while since he was in such a lively, warm family setting—and he wasn't quite used to it.
During dinner, his grandparents had piled so much food into his bowl he could barely see the bottom.
He glanced back at the house a sturdy, four-story home with white walls and a green roof—and smiled.
Then he turned and began walking up the road.
Fifty meters uphill from his house was the Central Avenue.
A right turn from there, and after another 500 meters, was the Otaru Canal.
Eriri had once called him a "human computer," so remembering a simple route like this was a piece of cake.
Despite being called a canal, it was really just a narrow stretch of seawater from Ishikari Bay, sitting only a short distance from the ocean.
Thanks to its popularity as a tourist destination, the canal's walkways were beautifully maintained.
Fan-shaped white tiles paved the paths.
On one side was a metal railing along the water, and on the other, red bricks and stone benches lined the roadside.
Across the canal stood old warehouses from the shipping era, now repurposed with open wooden windows that glowed with soft tachibana yellow lights.
As night deepened, the buildings lining the road lit up as well.
Whether by city mandate or tradition, all the lights were the same warm yellow, casting a magical glow across the surface of the water.
Strolling along the walkway, admiring the view, Kyousuke pulled out his phone and called Sakura.
Maybe because of the holidays, she'd already sent him dozens of messages throughout the day.
"Good evening, Kyousuke! Did you get to see your grandparents?" Sakura picked up immediately.
Kyousuke was once again amazed at how fast signals travelled despite being miles apart, it was like she was standing right next to him.
"Yeah, they're reading my manga right now. I'm calling you from the Otaru Canal."
Hearing Sakura's cheerful voice and imagining her bright, unbeatable smile, all the fatigue from the trip and his family's public embarrassment melted away.
"The Otaru Canal?! I wanna see! Turn on your camera!" she chirped.
"Haha, alright, let me plug in my earphones first," Kyousuke said with a laugh.
As always, he couldn't refuse her. If he could, he would've lifted the whole canal and flown it to her, just to show her the view in person.
"Okay! Talk soon! Don't miss me too much, okay?" Sakura teased.
Smiling silently, Kyousuke pulled out his earbuds, plugged them in, and hit the video call button.
"Beep beep! This is Sakura reporting live from Kyoto!"
The moment the video connected, he saw a glowing temple behind her, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun.
Then, out of nowhere, Sakura's face popped into frame from the bottom corner of the screen.
So Sakura had her own beautiful scenery she wanted him to see, too. That simple thought filled Kyousuke with a quiet, unexpected warmth.
"Pretty, right? That's Kiyomizu Temple. You can see it perfectly from my balcony."
Sakura giggled, raising her fingers like a frame, pretending to trap the magnificent temple between them.
Only that lovable idiot would do something so silly.
"It's beautiful!" Kyousuke nodded earnestly. He was about to turn his camera around to show her the canal when her voice suddenly rang out from the other end.
"Hey! Kyousuke, what are you doing? I want to see you, not the scenery!"
Seriously, this girl... Who was the one begging to see the Otaru Canal just a minute ago?
He smiled even more, then leaned casually against the brick railing by the water and stopped walking.
If he kept moving, Sakura would probably get dizzy trying to keep up.
"Too bad you're not here. I wanted to say hi to Aunt Mikiko too."
On screen, Sakura wore a green T-shirt and had her hair tied up simply at the back—making her look kind of like a Naruto fish cake.
She was leaning on a railing too, mirroring him perfectly.
Kyousuke ignored her comment.
Like he didn't know—between the two of them, Sakura was practically the Hojou family's adopted daughter.
She called his mom nearly every day.
"You're at your grandparents' place now?" he asked, recognizing the temple as one of Kyoto's most famous landmarks, even if he'd never been there himself.
"Yup! I was going to go on a trip with Shouko and the others, but my grandparents said they missed me too much. So the moment break started, I came back home."
"A trip? You guys were planning to come to Hokkaido?"
"Pfft—no way! Kyousuke, you narcissist. Who would get separation anxiety after just a few days and rush all the way to Hokkaido to see you?" Sakura scrunched her nose and stuck out her little pink tongue.
"Then where were you going?"
"It's a secret! Oh, oh! I have a huge scoop about Shouko. She didn't want me to tell you, but I have to!"
"What is it?"
Kyousuke played along with her theatrics.
He figured it was something Shouko was too shy to say herself, and Sakura was just doing it for her.
Even Naoka had messaged him the other day, saying she was back in Suimon City and had found a new part-time job.
But Shouko had only sent him one message so far—a single photo with Yuzuru on the first day of break, just to let him know she was doing okay.