Saturday nights offer plenty of possibilities.
One option is staying home to read or play your favorite video game.
That's what I'd normally do—though I'm sure some people would call that terribly boring. So here's another option: going out with friends, hitting a party, going to karaoke… in short, doing whatever counts as "enjoying your youth."
Both choices make sense, and I'm sure there are more, but those are the ones most people would pick.
Now, after that little introduction, you're probably thinking I'm either at home or at some kind of party.
The answer is a resounding no.
As I mentioned, my ideal Saturday night would be staying home. Yet here I am, walking through the streets of Chiba.
Do I like late-night walks?
I won't deny it—but usually I prefer going out even later than this.
So what's the point of all this?
Because of a certain incident—well, actually one incident that turned into another—Yumiko's mother helped me get out of a mess. I had things mostly under control, but her timing was still perfect.
As thanks, she invited me to have dinner with her family.
In short, I'm on my way to eat at Yumiko's house.
Having dinner at a friend's place isn't strange, but when it's a girl's house and the one inviting you is her mother, it definitely feels like the setup for a light novel episode.
And I refuse to believe life can really be that cliché.
Besides… for some reason I have a bad feeling about this.
More importantly, Yumiko's mother mentioned that her husband will be there.
If I were a girl, this would be no big deal.
But I'm a guy—or at least that's what the mirror tells me every morning. So if I were Yumiko's father and some boy came over for dinner, I know exactly how I'd react. There's nothing scarier than a father who loves his daughter—and judging by how her mother acts, I can imagine a few things about her husband's personality.
That's why I can't help but worry about how he'll treat me.
Of course, I doubt he'll jump me at the door and bombard me with questions before theatrically declaring something like, "I'll never hand my daughter over to you."
Thankfully, I was invited as Yumiko's friend.
So I don't even want to imagine the cruel fate awaiting her future boyfriend.
Good luck, stranger-san.
But worrying about it won't change anything. Overthinking this is pointless.
Maybe I'm being too pessimistic.
The good—or bad—thing about life is that it's full of surprises.
Who knows? Maybe Yumiko's father has something to take care of tonight and won't even be home. If I keep that mindset, it might actually work out…
Being realistic and being pessimistic are two very different things.
They look similar, but they're not.
Not sure what the difference is?
Don't worry—I got you.
Welcome to everyone's favorite segment: Teach us, Raiden-sensei!
As I said, there's a distinction—but first, let's go over the definitions.
Why am I doing this?
It helps me relax and distract myself, so just roll with it.
A realist evaluates a situation objectively, acknowledging both the positives and negatives before making a decision.
A pessimist focuses on what could go wrong; they anticipate failure without considering the good or the odds of success.
How do I know all this?
Never underestimate someone who's lived twice… and it's not like I'm secretly checking my phone right now to confirm it…
Anyway, realists differ from pessimists because they consider every possible scenario beforehand.
So if a friend says there's no solution to their problem, that doesn't automatically make him a pessimist—it might simply mean he already analyzed every chance he had, and none of them worked out.
Alright, that concludes today's lesson. Don't forget to write a thousand-word essay on the mental disorders and psychological issues that can arise after experiencing a massive shock and watching your life flash before your eyes…
And that's a brief explanation of the difference between both terms.
Now then, returning to the matter weighing on me today…
Realistically speaking, the chances of Yumiko's father being absent are incredibly low—maybe 0.1%, so low it barely counts.
In any other situation, I wouldn't have trouble talking to adults. Before I died, my college major required me to work with professionals all the time, so starting conversations was nothing unusual.
Don't underestimate my ability to relate to adults. I may be fifteen, but mentally I'm far older than most.
Anyway, I shouldn't be too far from Yumiko's house now—maybe ten more minutes of walking.
"Should I drink something to relax?" I muttered as I stared at the stars on a night where, thankfully, the clouds weren't blocking the view.
A familiar thought surfaced: there's a vending machine nearby that sells Max Café. I trust its sweetness to calm me down.
Taking a slight detour, I soon spotted it. Someone was already standing in front of the machine, so I simply waited behind him for my turn.
"Come on, work already!"
Hmm.
Tilting my head out of curiosity, I saw that the vending machine had jammed and refused to dispense the man's drink—meaning my turn wasn't coming anytime soon.
Not surprising; older machines tend to act up now and then.
He gave the machine a light smack, but nothing happened.
Since I buy from these machines all the time, this wasn't exactly new territory for me.
"Mind if I try?"
The man glanced at me with mild curiosity.
"Go ahead," he replied calmly.
Objects should be treated with care… usually. But sometimes machines like this need a bit of "affection."
I stepped forward and struck the machine on the side—avoiding the glass—but it didn't budge.
"That didn't work either, huh?"
…Wait. Was that a hint of mockery?
"Second try's the charm."
With that, I kicked the side of the vending machine, and this time I didn't hold back.
The lights flickered, the machine reset, and then it spat out two cans.
When I crouched down to pick them up, I saw both were Max Café.
"Looks like you're in luck—two for the price of one," I said cheerfully.
I offered both cans to the man.
"You can keep one. Consider it a thank-you. Besides, I already know how to fix this issue."
With a pleasant smile, he accepted only one.
"If you say so."
Saved myself a few yen. Maybe today really is a lucky day.
We opened our drinks at the same time and took a sip.
The high sugar content definitely helps calm the mind.
"I needed that sugar boost," I couldn't help but say.
The man also seemed pleased after drinking Max Café—the best beverage to revive corporate slaves since ancient times. Or, well, that's what I like to think every time I see someone enjoying it.
After sharing that brief moment with a fellow Max Café believer, I took a better look at him.
He had short, dark brown hair, glasses, and a bit of scruffy stubble that gave him a slightly unkempt look. His white shirt and dark jeans made him resemble an office worker heading home after a long shift.
"Nothing beats a hot coffee on a cold night." His relaxed smile matched his tone.
"I feel the same way," I replied automatically.
On this quiet, chilly night, sipping a warm coffee while admiring the vast, clear sky… it was a sensation I never thought I'd experience. In my previous life, the city I lived in was so polluted that seeing a sky like this was impossible.
After a few minutes, I finished my drink and tossed the empty can into a nearby trash bin.
Alright, time to move on.
Now that my mind had settled after the short break, I felt prepared to handle anything.
The man beside me also threw away his can.
We exchanged a small nod—our silent way of acknowledging each other—before parting ways… or so I thought.
As you might guess, in Japan, manners are something they drill into you since kindergarten. Among adults, showing basic respect is the norm. There are exceptions, sure, but in ordinary situations, that's just how things work.
While walking at a relaxed pace, I noticed the man was heading in the same direction. From the quick glance he shot my way, he must've noticed it too.
Is this what people call a twist of fate? Sharing a drink and then becoming lifelong friends?
I laughed quietly to myself. That sort of thing only happens in cliché anime scenes.
"Are you from around here?" he asked without looking at me, sounding like he was just trying to kill time with casual conversation.
"I'm visiting a friend's place."
Would a normal teenager get annoyed that a random adult started talking to them out of nowhere?
Probably. But once you reach adulthood—mentally or physically—you look back on that kind of reaction with secondhand embarrassment.
I had no reason to push him away. And since we'd both enjoyed a Max Café, you could say we already had a common point.
"I see," he replied.
Since the conversation had begun naturally enough, I figured we could chat until our paths split. Who knows—maybe it'd turn into an interesting story someday.
"And you? Heading home after a long day?" I asked.
A comfortable rhythm settled between us, the sort that forms when two strangers talk simply to make the walk feel shorter.
"That obvious, huh?" He chuckled. "Yeah. Work's exhausting. Sometimes I have to pull several night shifts in a row and barely get any sleep."
"I get it."
"Do you really?"
He raised an eyebrow, amused. A student claiming to understand adult workloads must've sounded funny to him.
"It might not look like it, but I know you can't always choose your work hours. Sure, some people get flexible schedules, but emergencies happen, and sometimes your boss forces you to stay overtime. Having a fixed schedule doesn't mean you'll leave on time," I said, repeating what I'd learned in my previous life.
"Oh, you explained that perfectly!" he said, sounding genuinely impressed—like discussing this with someone my age wasn't the norm.
"Well, it's something I read online."
Telling him it came from my past life wouldn't make sense.
"You're right. These days, you can learn anything with a quick search."
"Technology keeps evolving. It wouldn't be strange if, someday, we had programs that could answer questions better than doing the search ourselves."
"You've got a point. Technology will keep advancing… I just hope I don't lose my job, hahaha."
I laughed softly.
"I doubt it. As long as those programs are made by humans, they'll never be perfect."
"You're right about that." He spoke with a calm smile.
Talking about these kinds of things with an adult feels strange, since it's not something I can really discuss with people my age.
If I had run into someone my age, we'd probably be talking about girls or whatever hobbies we had.
Awkward for some, but not for me.
That quiet moment ended when my phone vibrated. I pulled it from my pocket and answered.
"Yeah?"
"Raiden, are you close yet?"
I think it's obvious who the voice belongs to, right?
"I'm a few minutes away, and it's still early."
I should have about ten minutes before the agreed time.
"I don't trust your punctuality. Last time, you made me wait." She sounded annoyed.
"I already apologized for that. I even spent the whole day with you."
Just remembering that day is exhausting.
"That doesn't erase the fact that you were late! So don't take too long—my dad should be arriving soon too."
"Good to know…"
I ended the call and let out a sigh.
"Girl trouble?" the man beside me said teasingly.
"You know how it is. Women—no one really understands them."
He burst out laughing the moment he heard that.
"You're young. You should enjoy your youth." He gave me a thumbs-up.
"That sounds like something my grandfather would say."
Though I never met him.
"I'm not that old yet. I've still got a few years before I hit fifty," he said proudly.
"So I guess you spend your nights having fun downtown?"
You'd be surprised by the variety of services offered in Japan. It really makes you rethink the level of creativity the Japanese have when it comes to opening certain… establishments.
I think it's obvious what kind of business I'm referring to.
"Hey, hey, don't let my wife hear you say that or I'm a dead man."
This time, it was my turn to laugh.
"You don't look like a married man," I said, pointing at his bare finger.
"Oh! I forgot to put it back on."
He rummaged through his pocket, pulled out a ring, and slipped it onto his finger.
"Looks like you do have your fun nights." I flashed a mischievous grin.
"Don't think of it like that." He shook his head quickly. "I was in surgery all day, so I took it off."
A doctor, huh? Though honestly, he doesn't really give off a doctor vibe.
Not that it matters—he could be lying for all I know. We're just strangers killing time.
"There's nothing wrong with going out to have fun on your own," I said, trying to defend him a little.
"When you're my age, you'll understand that once you get married, you only have eyes for one woman."
He said it like he was passing down ancient wisdom.
"Marriage, huh…" It's something I've never really thought about. "I don't think it'll happen. I don't interact much with girls."
It might sound like I'm lying, but it's the truth. Yumiko basically forced me to be her friend and drags me to lunch; I never initiated anything. And Kawasaki is just someone I walk home with after cram school; that wasn't my plan either.
"Lying is bad," he said with a playful smirk. "You were just talking to a girl."
He's got a point. From the outside, it definitely doesn't look like I was pressured into having dinner at Yumiko's house.
"I'm not exactly thrilled to talk to her, but I don't dislike her either."
"Hearing you say that brings back memories." He let out a nostalgic smile. "Before I started dating the woman who became my wife, she had woven herself so deeply into my daily life that I didn't even notice when I fell in love with her."
Hearing an adult say something like that feels strange.
Now that I think about it, I never asked my parents how they met; maybe I will another time.
"That sounds like the plot of one of those teen romance shows," I said after thinking it over.