Restarting My Life After Failing to Protect Girls in My Class – The Day I Was Called the "Demon God of Dragon Slaying" - Episode 5

“Hey, don’t you think that kid is eating too much?”

I heard my mom’s deep sigh from the living room past 8 p.m.

For me, who usually goes to bed before 8 p.m. and sleeps soundly until 7 a.m. the next day, this was a rare late night.

Suddenly, I got curious about the way to hold a fist for a straight punch, and as I observed and researched, before I knew it, it was already this late.

“Most of my salary goes toward food. You and I don’t drink, but that kid… it just seems like it’s getting too expensive.”

On my way back from the bathroom before bed, I stood in the hallway leading to the living room and quietly listened to my parents’ conversation through the door crack.

With my back against the hallway wall, hands in my pajama pockets… I looked like a middle-aged man who had seen the ups and downs of life… not at all like a young elementary school boy still needing his mom to sleep with him.

“We’re still able to save some money every month. Isn’t saying ‘most’ a bit too much?”

In contrast to my mom’s serious tone, my dad’s voice was as usual.

“But if we weren’t both working, it would be over, right? It’s tough even with both of us being civil servants… Meat and rice, meat and rice, meat and rice… and a liter of milk every day… I’m about to go crazy.”

My mom sighed deeply again.

It wasn’t just pessimism or being overly worried—it was her tendency to take on everything. But honestly, the family’s food expenses were probably a mess because of me.

I’m still growing, and with all the calories I burn in daily karate practice, I keep eating even more, wanting to get bigger.

I felt guilty about the strain on the family finances, but I had no intention of stopping.

“It’s because I get so hungry from karate practice. After a year, I’ve really gotten into it recently.”

“Ugh… It’s all because Taiichi teaches him those things…”

“It can’t be helped. Even though he’s small, Togo’s still a boy.”

I must not have been as sympathetic to my mom’s concerns as I should have been. After my dad’s carefree comment, I heard the sound of a hand hitting the table.

“Small!? He’s the biggest in his class! Do you want me to tell you the average height of a second grader?”

Immediately, my dad’s voice was heard apologizing.

My mom seemed to hold back a bigger outburst. After a long silence, she sighed and said quietly:

“…He’s really a good boy except for how much he eats. Instead of getting pocket money or New Year’s money, he says he doesn’t need it…”

“He must take after you in being thoughtful toward the family.”

“Maybe. If he takes after me, he should hate being hit or kicked the most—”

At that point, I thought I’d heard enough and started walking away.

Mom and Dad’s conversation wasn’t going to end soon, but in the end, it was a conversation between them that I didn’t need to hear. No matter how much my mom worried, my life wouldn’t change.

I would train like crazy.

I would eat like crazy.

I would get strong as crazy—and just prepare for the coming “August 29, 2016.”

I love my mom deeply, but I was going to take full advantage of being pampered as much as possible.

So, as I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, I muttered a somewhat apologetic excuse:

“Sorry, Mom. But it’s for helping others.”

Still, no matter how much I confided in my dad about my worries, I knew my mom would be there with her usual gentle face to sleep with me tonight.

At least for another year or two, until I grow up.