Mr. Bedhead had stayed in the Heisei era for some reason. Perhaps it was because his marshmallows had gone past their expiration date like the professor had explained, or perhaps it was...
“He might be planning something else-noda,” said the professor.
In any case, the fact that Mr. Bedhead was still in this era was to our advantage. We could chase after him even without making new marshmallows.
“Nii, I don’t get this. Explain to me!” complained Miru.
Yessir! I will now summarize all the important information for you!
The person who had stolen the manuscript for Ani MAJI Mania and changed the future was none other than Sadame Choumabayashi. He was the older brother of the professor and worshiped his ancestor, dreaming of becoming an author. I’d decided to call him Mr. Bedhead.
The professor had been able to create new time-traveling marshmallows, but she barely had any of the ingredients left, so she only planned on making them in order to resolve this incident by capturing Mr. Bedhead. Since he was wearing a cape which made him invisible to the professor’s radar, we had to find him using some method other than time travel.
I wanted to just go and capture Mr. Bedhead, but we had no clues as to how to get on his trail.
“Why don’t we return to my house for now? I’ll make everyone dinner,” suggested Yuzu-san, but the professor shook her head no.
“Nothing will be solved by just waiting-noda. We must strike fast-noda.”
“Strike?”
“My brother has a troublesome side to him where when he finds someone he thinks isn’t living a ‘proper’ life, he gets all high and mighty and starts lecturing them-noda.”
The professor told us a story about one of those moments. When Mr. Bedhead had been a kid, he’d started lecturing the other children around him about how panties were stupid. He would go around yelling about panties so much that it’d had the opposite effect, and all the kids in the neighborhood had started to call him “that panties kid.” It seemed he had begun to thrash around in anger.
“Lecturing people at a young age like that? How impertinent,” Odaira-sensei said. “No one wants to be lectured by a little boy. I’d be overjoyed to be lectured by Miru-chan, though. Ah, that’s a good idea! Could you scold me, Miru-chan? Do it in a really low, chilly voice for me...”
“How about you chill out in a morgue, geezer?”
“Yes, that’s perfect, Miru-chan! Scold me more! More!”
“Miru, just ignore him,” cautioned Kuroha. “At this rate, Sensei will get excited no matter what words you say.”
Man, I wish I could excite Sensei with my words!
“Um, are you sure that it’s okay if we don’t go back to my house?” Yuzu-san asked.
“Yeah. You see, there’s someone that he would want to lecture more than anyone here in this era,” explained the professor, taking out a book.
It was a paperback, and the cover had an illustration of a girl casually showing her panties. It was in a style that reminded me of this era’s anime.
“Professor, what’s that book?” I asked.
“This book was written by Maruta. His real name was Naotaro Choumabayashi. This is overstating it, but he would be the main Choumabayashi of this era-noda,” said the professor, chuckling a bit.
We descended down the mountain and headed toward an apartment complex in the city proper. We arrived in front of room 203. This was Naotaro Choumabayashi’s room.
Naotaro-san wrote lots of novels featuring beautiful girls. To Mr. Bedhead, he would be considered “An Ancestor Who Fell into the Pits of Moe,” so it was almost certain he would want to lecture him at least once, according to the professor.
If Mr. Bedhead had already made contact with Naotaro-san, we might be able to get some clues. Either that, or it was possible we might run into him there right then.
This is it...
“Okay, here we go.” I pressed the doorbell button on the intercom, and could sense someone moving inside. Then the door opened.
There was a bear.
No, wait, that’s a person?
So this was Naotaro Choumabayashi-san... First off, he was big. He must have been nearly two meters tall. He had a huge barreled chest, and I could tell he was covered in muscle all over, even through his clothes.
His eyes were so threatening they could make a person with a weak constitution wet themselves. His mustache and beard were wild and untrimmed. He was wearing a kimono and had his arms crossed, glaring at us.
So incredibly intimidating...
“Is this the Choumabayashi residence?” asked the professor, and Naotaro-san nodded ever-so-slightly. “I am a distant relative, and I was wondering if you might have some time to talk-noda?”
Naotaro-san continued to keep his arms crossed, and he looked at us suspiciously.
This isn’t going well... He doesn’t look like he’s gonna believe us.
We all fell silent. In front of this immovable mountain of a man, Naotaro-san, the only option that began to pop into my head was “retreat.”
But then he turned his gaze past my head. It seemed like he was looking at someone behind me. I turned to see where he was looking...
“Oh? Um, yes?” Yuzu-san didn’t seem to know what to say.
Naotaro-san suddenly changed his posture toward us. He broke out in a big smile, and motioned with his thumb to the room behind him. It seemed to be a gesture that meant “come inside.”
“Aha, it seems he’s taken an interest in Yuzu-kun,” said Odaira-sensei.
“Yuzu-cchi has an aura about her that puts people at ease-noda!” said the professor.
I couldn’t agree more!
We all entered the room and sat down on the floor. Naotaro-san’s apartment was just one big room in a Western style, and it was actually pretty roomy, but even so, it felt cramped with so many people inside.
Naotaro-san didn’t try to speak with us, and instead hunched his giant back over, tapping away singlemindedly on a laptop computer. He must have been right in the middle of writing something.
I was quite interested in what kind of novel an older fellow with such a scary appearance would be writing, so I tried to secretly take a peak. On the top line was written “乙女迷宮ラブ・サンクチュアリーIII キスより甘く (Labyrinth of a Maiden Love Sanctuary III — Sweeter Than a Kiss)”.
Nope, can’t read it.
I whispered to Kuroha who was sitting next to me. “Kuroha, I can’t read it, but what kind of novel is Naotaro-san writing? It looks like some book filled with pretty girls, but is it actually some genre of moe?”
“Hmm... There are the Roman numerals for three, which means it’s the third book in a series. It starts right off the bat with a poem. There’s no explanation in the beginning, and it goes straight into writing plaintively about the protagonist’s love for some character named Prince Hakuto. It’s definitely part of a series.”
“Oh? So the main character is a woman? In the orthodox style, it’s far more likely to have main characters who are boys, but maybe it’s not so rare back in this era? Is there anything else interesting about it?”
“I think you’re confused about something. Next to the title, there’s a ‘Submission Manuscript for the Maiden Books Newcomer’s Prize.’”
“Wait a minute, I thought he was supposed to be a professional author?”
“How should I know? Anyway, why is he sending in a serial work to a newcomer’s prize? And volume three, at that? What do you make of it?”
“Without understanding the basic principles of this era, I can’t really say,” I replied. If you tried to do that for the newcomer’s prize in our era, you’d be rejected immediately.
Naotaro-san continued writing for a little while, but during a little break, the monitor switched over to a different screen. I could see what looked like the contest entry sheet.
He clicked the form labeled “pen name” with his mouse, crossed his arms, and stopped moving.
“If he’s a pro, then why is he having trouble deciding on a pen name now?” I wondered.
“I bet that he’s writing under a new name and trying to win the prize from a different publisher,” suggested Kuroha.
“Oh, that makes sense.”
Naotaro-san seemed like he really couldn’t decide. Okay then, it’s a little presumptuous, but let’s give him some advice!
“I’d suggest a name that’s either a palindrome or one where reading it backwards gives it a different meaning,” I said.
Naotaro-san’s shoulders twitched. Did I catch him by surprise suddenly talking to him like that?
“Onii-chan, that really was uncalled for,” Kuroha said.
Yeah, maybe she has a point.
I was a little worried, but Naotaro-san slowly turned my direction and gave me a thumbs up. Phew. It looked like he was satisfied with my advice.
Naotaro-san typed in his pen name into the form. I wonder what kind of secret his pen name holds?
“Masao Saitou.”
“...Huh?” It wasn’t a palindrome, and reading it backwards didn’t seem to mean anything. Maybe it’s some sort of dialect?
Suddenly, the previously bored looking Odaira-sensei knit his brows...
“...Hm? Masao Saitou?” he said.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“No, never mind... Big Man Masao Saitou...” Odaira-sensei was muttering something to himself. “I’m pretty sure that his real name was...”
Just when I was about to ask Naotaro-san what his pen name meant, Kuroha noticed something and pointed at the floor.
“Onii-chan, look at that.”
The professor picked up a book from where she had pointed. On the cover was written Torahiko Touji’s The 21st Century. The paper was quite worn, so it looked like a very old book.
The professor’s eyes went wide. “This... is an original copy that we have in our library at home-noda.”
“Original copy?” I asked.
“One of Torahiko Touji’s books that was published in the Taisho era-noda.”
In the 23rd century, restoration and preservation technology had progressed considerably, so there were many books from long long ago that still existed. We had a library in our family’s house where countless old books were stored.
“If that book is here, that means my brother has been here, too!” the professor cried.
I see! We’ve got you by the tail now, Mr. Bedhead!
“Did Sadame-san come here to tell Naotaro-san that he should write books more like this one, and show him the light?” Kuroha asked.
“Kuro-chan, you’d understand if you put yourself in his shoes-noda!”
“You mean he’s got some even more nefarious plan?” she wondered.
“He probably just forgot it-noda!”
There wasn’t much to say in response to that. He was related to the professor, after all.
“Nii, I have a thought,” said Miru.
“What’s that?”
“He’ll come back for it.”
“Ah, yes! So you’re saying it’s possible that Mr. Bedhead will come back here!” We can meet him just by waiting here!
Our spirits were all filled with anticipation. Then, the entrance door rattled open...
Could Mr. Bedhead be right on cue?!
I was nervous. Finally we would be face to face with the thief who stole Ani MAJI Mania!
But the person who appeared from the open door was a skinny man with short hair. He was wearing a T-shirt with English words on it, the type that I had seen often in the Heisei era. He had a gentle-looking face.
So this is Sadame Choumabayashi! He didn’t look anything like he had in that picture, but criminals often change their appearance when making their getaway, after all.
Mr. Bedhead (actually he wasn’t Mr. Bedhead) looked around the room, and — let out a scream.
“Uwaah! Wh-Who are you people?!”
He’s acting like he never met us before! Nice try, but I’m not buying it!
I immediately stood up and confronted Mr. Bedhead.
“Don’t play dumb with me! Now then, give us back Ani MAJI Mania!”
“Wh-What’s that?”
Mr. Bedhead sure is good at this act. Maybe he has a future as an actor. I have to be careful not to get fooled by his wily ways!
“Wait-noda! Imose-kun, he’s not...” But before the professor could finish, Mr. Bedhead yelled out.
“Saitou-san, what’s going on here?!”
Saitou-san?
Mr. Bedhead was looking behind me towards Naotaro-san. After being called out to, Big Man Naotaro-san looked at Mr. Bedhead with his eyes narrowed, and a grin spread across his face.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied meekly. It seemed like I had the wrong person.
“Honestly, Saitou-san... I can’t believe you just let some random people into my room and pretended to be me!”
The real Naotaro Choumabayashi was continuing to scold the bear... I mean, Saitou-san. Saitou-san had his huge body all scrunched up small and had his face covered up with both hands like a girl.
We all left Naotaro-san’s apartment and went to a local family restaurant. We all sat together around a long table.
Naotaro-san was suspicious of us, but when we told him we were friends with Saitou-san, he believed us. It seemed like Naotaro-san and Saitou-san were old friends. Saitou-san was a self-proclaimed author, although his actual job was something that, in this era’s language, you would call “household help.” When I asked what exactly he helped with, I was told, suggestively, “sometimes it takes a certain someone to be oneself with.”
Naotaro-san had told Saitou-san, “You can come over to my place whenever you’d like.” But it didn’t seem like he had realized that Saitou-san had made a copy of the key to his apartment.
“What nerve he has acting like he owned the place. I bet a person like that has no problem stealing other people’s work.” Kuroha did not seem to have a good impression of Saitou-san.
Stealing someone else’s work is bad, yes, but you can’t help it if you’re influenced by other people.
When Naotaro-san had finished complaining about Saitou-san, the professor brought out a gift.
It was a type of snack in the shape of a small stick which was an extremely popular Japanese confection with a long history in the 23rd century. It was called something like the “Yummy” or “Delicious” stick, and its crunchy texture was the pinnacle of decadence. A ten stick pack was 50,000 yen. They were considered quite a high-class present.
Kuroha and myself were both oohing and ahhing, but for some reason Naotaro-san’s reaction was off, and he just laughed.
“But that’s not all! I also have this-noda!” The professor brought out a flask, with “WATER THAT GETS YOU TIPSY” written on the label. It must have been some kind of 23rd century drink.
“We’ll all drink it together-noda.” The professor poured some of the “WATER THAT GETS YOU TIPSY” for everyone. I tried some, and it didn’t have any taste in particular at all.
“What is this?” This doesn’t taste interesting at all. What’s the point?
“It’s just like the name says-noda. It’s water that’ll improve your mood-noda. Don’t mistake it for alcohol-noda. I made sure that we are following all the laws from this era, and minors can’t drink alcohol-noda.”
In other words, it’s not alcohol but it has the same effect?
“Personally I’d suggest mixing it with ‘Doctor Pepper’ or ‘Mellow Yellow’ or ‘Chikaramizu’ or ‘SaSuKe,’ something carbonated-noda. That’s the Showa or Heisei style-noda.”
Are you saying we should drink it with something contemporary, in order to “drink in” the era? I see! I immediately flagged down a waitress, but when I ordered “One Mellow Yellow, please!” she gave me a confused look.
“Enough o’ that... Let’s get down to business already.”
Come on, Kuroha, don’t be... Wait... Kuroha’s cheeks looked
a little pinker than usual.
“Onii-chan, hello?” she asked.
“Ah, okay.”
I was a little worried about how Kuroha was acting, but I was sure it’d be fine. I began to ask Naotaro-san about the situation.
“Did someone come visit you recently? A young man with a messy bedhead who claimed to be a relative of yours?”
Naotaro-san tilted his head when I mentioned “bedhead,” but when the professor showed him a picture of Mr. Bedhead, he recognized him.
“Ah, that person. Yes, he came to my apartment.”
The professor clapped her hands together excitedly with a “Yes!”
Good job, professor! It’s exactly as you thought! Mr. Bedhead had gone to see Naotaro-san. We might be able to find out in which direction he went!
“...But how did you people know that?” Naotaro-san asked.
“Ah... Um...” I tried to explain, but the professor chimed in instead.
“We’re trying to find out where he went because of certain reasons.”
“Oh, I figured as much. It makes sense he was working for some evil company,” nodded Naotaro-san, sounding as if he’d been convinced.
Just as the professor had predicted, Mr. Bedhead had appeared to lecture Naotaro-san. He had ranted like crazy on his doorstep, and when his fervor had hit its peak, he’d thrown that copy of Torahiko Touji’s book, yelling, “Write this kind of book!”
Naotaro-san had thought he was trying some new kind of door-to-door pressure sales technique.
“My brother has a real temper problem, so he might even throw his precious book in anger without thinking-noda,” the professor said.
“So then, do you happen to know where this ‘evil salesman’ headed off to?” I asked.
“Not really...” he said, shaking his head no. “He said something like, ‘I will complete this book myself!’ while holding a book titled The 21st Century in his hand.”
“Complete it?” I asked.
“I didn’t really understand what he was talking about...”
“Maybe he was talking about TOKYO TOWER NEXIA?”
“Imose-kun, that’s a story from quite a bit later, and I don’t think he meant solving his own business himself-noda.”
Naotaro-san didn’t have any more information about Mr. Bedhead. We had finished our business with him, but it would be boring to just go our separate ways immediately, so we asked him about himself.
My Little Sister Can Read Kanji: Volume 2 (Ereader) Page 6