Volume 4 Chapter 36 The Chasing Child Prodigy
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
After finishing our water fight, the three of us hydrated while our hair was still wet. (Ah, that hits the spot. I feel human again.)
”Maa-kun, you have a mustache,” Suu-chan said.
”You too, Suu-chan,” I replied.
With cups in hand, we pointed out each other’s milk mustaches. I felt like this might be unseemly behavior for a lady, but since Suu-chan was still at an age where it was appropriate, she just smiled bashfully, happy that we were matching.
”Well then… time to get to work,” Mitsuhisa-san said, switching his mindset.
Since he stayed home and kept us company, it was easy to get the wrong idea, but Mitsuhisa-san wasn’t on vacation. Because he was allowed a worker-friendly style like “paternity leave work,” he had to keep living up to that trust. He wiped his wet hair roughly and, with a towel still draped over his shoulders, opened his laptop to check his emails. (Being a handsome guy, he really makes the picture work…)
”Maa-kun,” Suu-chan called out.
When I turned toward her, I saw she had brought a hairdryer from her toy vanity box. This hairdryer was a fifth birthday present from her parents. Suu-chan was at that age where she wanted to do things herself—especially when it came to refining her “beauty.”
However, because the hairdryers in the Totsuka family were chosen by Mio-san¹—a fellow seeker of beauty—they were high-performance. Such hairdryers usually suffer the fate of being heavy; if we children try to hold one with one hand, our arms would start trembling. If we tried hard enough, we could manage, but it would be a problem if we dropped it or got hurt.
Hence, the “Suu-chan-exclusive” hairdryer. It was a lightweight model that even a five-year-old had no trouble handling with one hand. Still, considering they chose one that cost over a hundred dollars, it seemed they wouldn’t allow any slacking on maintenance just because she was a child.
Clutching her favorite hairdryer, she headed back to the washroom to dry her hair. It was a pain to leave the air-conditioned room, but I didn’t want to disturb Mitsuhisa-san’s work or the twins’ sleep with the noise. Since Suu-chan was taller, I stood on a stepstool behind her and removed the towel wrapped around her hair.
First, I untangled her hair with a coarse brush. After that, I lifted the hair falling over her shoulders and applied hot air through the towel, starting from the roots. I was already used to this. I had been taught thoroughly by Mio-san, after all. Since I also dried Mother’s hair at home, I had no intention of losing to my peers in terms of “experience points.”
”Mmmph,” she let out a satisfied hum.
Our eyes met in the mirror. The way she looked up at me slightly was just incredibly cute. Every so often, to distract from the heat, I switched to cool air and aimed it at myself, or pulled Suu-chan’s collar to send a breeze down her back.
”Suu-chan, face right,” I said.
”Nn!” she chirped.
I had her spin around, being careful not to miss any damp spots. I worked quickly, being careful not to over-dry it. I set the towel aside, switched to warm air, and used a comb to style everything. Finally, I finished with a cool-shot to set it, and her perfectly straight hair lined up neatly below her shoulders.
”There, all done,” I said.
”Thanks. Maa-kun’s turn,” she replied.
”Yeah, please.”
”Nn!”
We swapped positions. Since I was going after her, my hair had already air-dried a bit, but I should probably dry it properly anyway. Since it was short, it was over in an instant. Suu-chan buried her face in the back of my head.
”Suu-chan, it’s hot, let’s go back,” I said.
”Nn!”
As we returned to the air-conditioned living room, the stifling air was blown away.
”Maa-kun, thank you,” Mio-san said.
I understand that for parents who have a lot to do—housework, childcare, and work—the time spent drying a child’s hair can become a nuisance. It certainly takes time and effort, and I often hear similar complaints from other “mom-friends.” But I’m just a child who hasn’t been given any particular tasks. Something like this is an easy job.
”No problem. I like drying Suu-chan’s hair, so it’s fun,” I said.
Besides, it makes her happy. If I don’t do it, who will?
”Maa-kun, do you want to work as a hairstylist?” Mio-san asked while running her fingers through Suu-chan’s hair to check the result.
”What kind of job is that?” I asked.
(Getting paid just for drying hair? Does such a wonderful job actually exist? Mother also tends to put it off, so maybe there’s actually a demand for it? Or maybe a part-time job drying kids’ hair? Could I get maybe ten cents a minute?)
”Hmm… maybe a beautician?” Mio-san suggested.
I went silent. No, you can’t make a living as a beautician just by drying hair. You need to handle cuts, shampoos, styling, coloring, perms, and so on. I’ve heard some places even do makeup, nails, and kimono dressing. On top of technical skill, you need people skills and a sense of style; you’re expected to understand the customer’s needs based on trends and respond appropriately. Plus, you need a national license.
(Or so I’ve heard from TV and the other moms. It actually has some similarities to my previous life’s profession, but for someone whose mindset is “as long as the hairstyle isn’t weird, anything is fine,” isn’t the hurdle a bit too high?)
”Will Maa-kun become a beautician? Can you do it ssu?” Suu-chan asked with an expectant voice from behind me.
Cutting her hair… I think I’d be too scared of failing to even pick up the scissors.
”If you do, maybe Mama will have Maa-kun cut hers too. It’ll save on salon bills!” Mio-san added that it would help the household budget. It seemed she’d become a regular customer too, but I wondered about a client who wouldn’t pay.
”Well… I’ll think about it,” I said.
Well, beauty does cost money. Compared to my previous life, where I just went to a cheap ten-dollar cut place every two months and faked the rest, hearing that it costs over fifty dollars a month makes me think saving that money would be for the best. Mio-san’s skill is pretty good, but Suu-chan can’t have her cut it forever. And if the twins join in… that’s terrifying.
Suu-chan left my back for a moment, put away the dryer, and brought back a scrunchie instead.
”Maa-kun, Nn!” she said.
”What should I do?”
”The usual!”
”Roger that.”
Accepting the order, I slid my hands against the nape of her neck, divided her back hair into two halves, and fastened them with the scrunchie so the ends stayed long.
”Suu-chan, done,” I said.
”Nn, thanks!”
”I really think you have talent,” Mio-san muttered.
Watching how quickly I finished, she seemed impressed. As for this, I do it almost every day, and the hairstyle isn’t that difficult. I’m grateful that Suu-chan likes easy hairstyles.
After lounging around for a bit, we plunged into study time according to the schedule we made on the first day of summer vacation. Just because it was a holiday, wasting precious time to get ahead of the curve was out of the question. I sat down at the low table with Suu-chan. In front of us was paper with a grid. It was a practice print for “100-square math drills” that Mio-san whipped up with spreadsheet software.
However, if you looked closely, there weren’t actually 100 squares. There were only 64 questions in an eight-by-eight grid. Apparently, Mother and the others grew up with 64-square drills.
(Well, I think it’s enough. I understand the theory of hammering it into the subconscious through repetition, but if there are too many, you just get tired and quit. By the way, since “64-square math” doesn’t roll off the tongue, we just call it “100-square math.” By placing the base numbers on the edges, the total number of frames is exactly 100. The corner squares are empty, but it makes exactly 100 boxes. Therefore, Mio-san says it’s fine to call it that.)
We were ready with our sharp pencils, waiting for the signal from Mio-san, who held a stopwatch.
”Alright, everyone in position… ready, go!”
The moment the ‘beep’ sounded, the pencils flew. Honestly, for me, these drills are a piece of cake. Since my internal “contents” are those of an adult, the answers to single-digit addition come out as naturally as breathing. Suu-chan was filling in the squares smoothly, pointing at the numbers with her left hand. Her handwriting was beautiful; apparently, to become a lady, one’s handwriting must be elegant. (Her serious expression is cute, too…)
I put my pencil down first, followed shortly by Suu-chan.
”Mama, the time?” she asked.
”Suu-chan’s time is… one minute and fifty-nine seconds! You broke two minutes! Congratulations!”
”Congratulations, Suu-chan,” I said.
”Mfuuu!”
Having broken two minutes, Suu-chan hugged me in her joy.
”Maa-kun is… one minute and fifty seconds!”
”Maa-kun, you’re amazing,” she said.
”Thanks,” I replied.
Suu-chan gave me a look of pure admiration. I have to be careful, or I’ll get a big head.
”Okay, multiplication next!”
”Nn!”
New prints were prepared. Suu-chan was full of motivation. Just like before, we started solving at the signal.
”Mmm…” I heard a troubled groan from her.
I finished in one minute and fifty-eight seconds; Suu-chan got two minutes and thirteen seconds.
”Ugh… multiplication…” she groaned.
She was dissatisfied that it didn’t go as well as the addition. She buried her face in my stomach to show her frustration.
”Hate to break up the flirting, but I’m done grading,” Mio-san said. “First, Maa-kun. No mistakes in either!”
”Ohh,” Suu-chan clapped for me.
”Suu-chan was so close. Two wrong in addition. Three wrong in multiplication.”
”Muu…”
She knit her brows, upset she couldn’t reach zero mistakes. Still, I think this level of calculation is plenty for a five-year-old. Sixty-four questions in 120 seconds means less than two seconds per question. In a full 100-square grid, that would be about three minutes and twenty seconds—the level of a second-grade elementary student. For a preschooler still practicing writing, this was incredible.
(One might ask what I’m doing, being at the same level… but of course, I’m holding back. If the gap is too large, it will kill her motivation. It’s better to have a back you can actually reach. Besides, I’m not even five yet. If I don’t leave room for growth, the day when people say, “He was such a genius as a kid…” will arrive too soon. I want to drag this out as long as possible.)
Having finished our warm-up, we tackled a second-grade math drill.
”Maa-kun, here…”
”Let’s see,” I said.
I played the role of teacher. Perhaps my experience as a tutor in my previous life was coming in handy. I had started that job because it was easy money, but it turned out to be great—I even got treated to dinners and given hand-me-down furniture.
”Maa-kun, how do you read this wiggly thing?” she asked.
”That’s ‘side.’ It’s a radical for characters,” I explained.
”Side… that’s a funny side. Okay, I remembered!”
Suu-chan is brilliant. Once I teach her, she remembers immediately. Her absorption power is terrifying.
By the way, we are deliberately not studying just Kanji. Mother says it’s more efficient to learn characters when we’re interested—like when they appear on TV or in books—rather than just stuffing ourselves with them. Besides, we’ll do repetitive writing practice until we’re sick of it in school.
Mio-san was clicking away at her laptop, enjoying a housewife’s brief moment of rest. After thirty minutes, we finished the drill. After a bathroom break, it was “free study”—reading time. Suu-chan rummaged through her library bag and picked a fairy tale. She sat down right next to me, pressing close.
”Read this,” she said.
”Aye-aye.”
We each held one side of the book and began reading silently. It was a story for lower elementary schoolers, so it had Kanji with small reading aids. If she didn’t understand a word, she could just ask me.
Without a word, I flipped the page. I could tell exactly when she was ready. Being childhood friends from birth isn’t just for show. I read the content properly, too. There is much to learn from fairy tales—things we forget as adults seeking only efficiency. Sometimes I think adults are the ones who should be reading these.
As a child, as a boy, and as a reincarnated person, I re-examined how I should be—
—
Summary:
After a water fight, Maa-kun helps Suu-chan dry and style her hair, showcasing his surprisingly professional skills. They then engage in summer vacation ‘100-square’ math drills, where Maa-kun carefully moderates his performance to keep Suu-chan motivated. The chapter concludes with the two childhood friends reading a fairy tale together in comfortable silence.
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Trivia:
- The hairdryer Suu-chan uses is a high-end model costing over 10,000 yen.
- The ‘100-square’ math drill is actually an 8×8 grid (64 questions) but named 100 for the total boxes including edges.
- Mio-san is noted to be a ‘seeker of beauty’ who influenced the household’s high-performance appliance choices.
- Maa-kun used to be a tutor in his previous life, which makes him effective at teaching Suu-chan
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Character Insight:
Maa-kun exhibits a selfless, protective nature toward Suu-chan’s growth, intentionally limiting his own displays of genius to ensure she doesn’t feel discouraged. Suu-chan shows high competitive drive and a burgeoning interest in both academics and her own appearance.
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Lore And Worldbuilding Context:
The author uses the ‘100-square’ calculation (Kageyama Method) to ground the ‘prodigy’ aspect of the story in recognizable Japanese childhood education tropes.
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Glossary:
Notes:
• Suu-chan – A refined young girl with soft skin who values etiquette and ‘lady’s grace.’ She holds Makoto to a high standard of grooming.
• Maa-kun – A young boy in the Rabbit Group at Hinomori Kindergarten. He is highly intelligent, capable of second-grade math and multiplication. He is described as calm, stoic, and helpful, often acting as a ‘handler’ for more energetic children. Akari’s son, nearly five years old. An extreme polyglot and polymath who secretly studies news, martial arts, and multiple languages. Highly sensitive to his parents’ moods. Also referred to as Makoto-kun. Narrator’s son in the Rabbit Group. Popular with other girls but maintains distance. Previously protected Suu-chan during the ‘April Incident.’
• Suu – A female student in the Rose Class. Very close to Makoto (Maa-kun). Has mud on her cheeks and makes high-quality dorodango.
• Mitsuhisa – Mitsuhisa, 33, 184 cm, 71 kg, toned and reserved, is a giant‑physique father of three (Suu‑chan, Fuu‑chan, Kyo‑chan) married to Mio. On modified childcare leave he’s protective, doting, play‑acting with his daughters, feeling neglected by the eldest but favoring the twins, distant with Akari, dark‑bantering with former teammate Makoto, and unsettled by his influence. Also known as Mitsuhisa‑san, father of the Totsuka family, on work‑from‑home leave, theatrical when his daughters prefer Makoto, and enjoys playful competition.
• Totsuka – Totsuka Mio is the wife of Mitsuhisa Totsuka and mother of Suu-chan. She is a hardcore gamer, part of the neighbor family that supplies hand‑me‑down consoles to the protagonist’s household. Mio attends parent‑teacher conferences and worries about her daughter’s growing dependence on Makoto.
• Mio – Mio‑san, chairperson of the Totsuka council and mother of Suzuki, is a recently postpartum, stylish gray‑clad figure with a baby‑faced charm and G‑cup silhouette. Playful yet grounded, she guides Makoto, Suu‑chan, Fuu‑chan and Kyo‑chan, bakes with them, encourages Shiho’s hobbies, serves as Akari’s confidante, films and teases the children, cooks for her family, manages the household, and mentors Maa‑kun in hair‑drying while protecting UV.
• Totsuka Mio – Totsuka Mio is the wife of Mitsuhisa Totsuka and mother of Suu-chan. She is a hardcore gamer, part of the neighbor family that supplies hand‑me‑down consoles to the protagonist’s household. Mio attends parent‑teacher conferences and worries about her daughter’s growing dependence on Makoto.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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