Chapter 11

Chapter 11 011, When You’re Handsome, Life Becomes Easy

At 2 p.m., after everything had settled down, Nagayama Naoki dragged Nakai Genta, who was originally supposed to be resting, to the apartment near Waseda.

After walking about 20 minutes from Waseda Station, a six-story apartment building came into view. It was not far from the famous Waseda University, essentially Showa-era “school district housing.” A modern Western-style renovated apartment, even equipped with an elevator.

Nakai Genta said after entering, “Not bad, this place.”

To Naoki, a Showa-era building still felt lacking in many things—there was no air conditioner, water heater, or washing machine.

But the space was large: two bedrooms, one living room, a combined kitchen and dining area, plus a small balcony. It was enough for a single man, and even a family could barely manage living there if needed.

The previous owner had left only a few large cabinets; everything else had been moved out. That was convenient for cleaning.

“Stop looking around and come help clean,” Naoki called out to Genta, who was wandering around like a husky.

“How big is this place? How much did it cost?” Genta asked as he came over.

“20 tsubo, about 14 million yen.”

“Eh? Didn’t you only have a 10 million budget? How could you afford it?”

“Did I not tell you? I was busy a while ago—I shot an advertisement and earned it.” Even close friends don’t always know each other’s financial situation. The payment had already arrived; he had originally planned to borrow from the bank if it wasn’t enough.

“You bastard, you’re way too good at making money. Am I from Hitotsubashi University or are you?”

“Genta-san, do you know an old saying?”

“What?”

“When you’re handsome, life becomes easy.”

“What nonsense…”

They bickered while cleaning, finishing most of it in about an hour. Hoshino Suzumi also arrived.

For the two men, cleaning meant: mop the floor, wipe the windows, closets, kitchen, and toilet—done.

They even teased her: “Suzumi-chan, we’re already done cleaning, and you’re only just here?”

After she arrived, she looked at them with clear disdain and immediately began ordering them around.

Only then did Naoki realize that under the sink, in kitchen corners, cabinet gaps, and drain areas—places that looked clean—there was actually a shocking amount of dirt.

After everything was finally finished, the room was properly cleaned. They would still need to buy daily necessities later, but that would be after the New Year.

Next, they had to treat the two of them to a meal.

This area was already in the city center, with countless restaurants. The three of them wandered and eventually entered an izakaya.

After a full afternoon of work, they were exhausted and starving, so they ordered ramen that came out quickly.

After eating, they didn’t continue wandering and returned to the Makino house.

Why was Suzumi coming along too? Children shouldn’t know too much.

“Welcome back!” Mrs. Makino greeted them with a smile. After seeing the two men go upstairs first, she said to Naoki, “Naoki-san, you had a phone call this evening. It seemed to be from your mother.”

For a moment, Naoki’s mind went blank.

“Mother?”

He quickly recovered. “Makino-san, thank you. I’ll wash up and call back.”

“No problem.”

He went upstairs somewhat hurriedly.

In the past nearly three months since arriving in the Showa era, he occasionally thought of home, but it had always felt distant—like a label or a memory, not something real. Even the idea of going home for New Year had felt abstract.

But a phone call from his mother suddenly broke through that emotional distance, catching him off guard.

Naoki quickly took a shower while recalling his family situation.

His mother, Nagayama Nanasako, was a traditional Japanese woman. She married into the Nagayama family at 20 and devoted herself entirely to being a housewife, taking care of everything in the household and treating her children well. However, Naoki was not the eldest; he had a younger sister three years his junior, so he received less pampering.

His father, Nagayama Ken, was 42 and the second son of his grandfather. When he was born, his grandfather was focused on the expansion of the Yamaguchi-gumi, and his grandmother had passed away early, so he developed a timid yet stubborn personality. Naturally, he was not favored by the yakuza patriarch, and he had been separated from the main family for over 20 years, usually only calling once a year.

His older brother, Nagayama Aoki, 21, did not become refined and scholarly, but instead had a strong, rugged physique like their grandfather. He was somewhat impulsive and straightforward, very much the “Showa man” type. He was currently planning to inherit an izakaya in Shizuoka and was not yet married.

His younger sister, Nagayama Tsuruko, 15, was a middle school student and a top student, aiming to enter a top Tokyo university and become an elite professional.

Overall, aside from the slightly unexpected yakuza background on the grandfather’s side, the rest was a fairly normal small-town family. When Naoki came to Tokyo, it was partly to get closer to Momoe Yamaguchi, and partly because the family izakaya business was too small and did not need an extra person.

He used to contact home once every one or two months, but nearly three months had passed this time. That was a bit long. Still, with a changed identity, he had instinctively avoided contact with acquaintances. Now he hesitated for a moment—but in the end, he still had to call back.

After changing clothes, he went downstairs and dialed the home number.

After a few rings—

“Moshi moshi, this is the Nagayama family!”

A young girl’s voice came through.

“Tsuruko?” Naoki asked.

“Oniichan?!” Nagayama Tsuruko immediately called out loudly, “Okaasan! Oniichan is on the phone!”

That voice pulled memories straight back into his mind—siblings, parents, every fragment of childhood merging into his consciousness.

“Oniichan, why haven’t you called for so long? Okaasan has been worried,” Tsuruko complained, half sulking.

“Eh… Tsuruko-chan, weren’t you worried too?” Naoki teased lightly.

“Baka! Who said I wasn’t worried! I was worried! Worried about my New Year gift!”

“Ah… I completely forgot about gifts.”

He panicked internally. Luckily there was still time to fix it.

“New Year gift? Of course I already prepared it,” he said confidently.

“You better not forget, or you’re dead when you come back!”

At that moment, their mother’s voice came through, scolding her. “Tsuruko, what are you saying?”

“Okay okay, here, I’ll pass the phone.”

“Naoki? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, Okaasan, I’m here.”

“Have you been very busy lately? Will you come home for New Year?”

“End-of-year work is a bit heavy, but I’ll still come back for New Year.”

“That’s good.”

After that, she continued talking about the father, the older brother, Tsuruko, and the izakaya, while Naoki responded from time to time.

This kind of mother-child relationship had always been like this: a talkative mother and a quiet son.

Naoki, who had never truly experienced family warmth in his previous life, quietly felt a gentle current flowing through him.