When I started Suspecting my Wife of Cheating, I Somehow Ended up Living in the Middle of Nowhere - Episode 23

Apparently, the village was getting quite lively. A pink-haired YouTuber, Cecil Okari (estimated age 20), known as “Seshirun,” had started streaming about life in the village, and it was becoming a hot topic.

The general public seemed supportive of the effort to bring more people into the village, and “Seshirun” was rarely criticized for self-promotion or anything nasty. She was steadily gaining more views and subscribers.

Unfortunately, the Kuwakino couple in their 60s had apparently retired from country life. They were moving back to Fukuoka City. Before they left, they told us, “Village life didn’t suit us. We wanted to do a little gardening, but we didn’t expect we’d have to engage so heavily in farming. Plus, there was so much nosiness from the neighbors that we couldn’t relax. It wasn’t the rural life we had imagined…”

And as for our family…

“Big sis, how’s the garden doing?”

That was the conversation during breakfast in our living room one morning.

“Umm… It seems like it had been left alone for a while, and the soil had gotten weak.”

If that were the case, normally my big sister would be excited to go buy fertilizer or something, but she was eating her bread with an unusually dissatisfied look.

“Is something bothering you?”

“Three of the village mayor’s grandsons came and tilled the garden and spread fertilizer.”

Even though they had helped, instead of being happy, she looked even more upset. She had been thrilled to have a garden she could tend however she liked. But now, since three boys trying to score points had already tilled and fertilized it, they had taken the “best part” from her.

The mayor’s grandsons, I found out, were named Fuga (18), Hinata (16), and Goki (13). They started dropping by our place frequently. Since my daughters were 16 (the big sister) and 14 (Chieri), the big sister would be in the same grade as Hinata if she transferred schools.

I thought it would be reassuring for her to have a familiar face in her new grade, but she didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic.

“You’re not a fan of the mayor’s grandsons?”

“Well… it’s not really about liking or disliking them. I’m just not good around boys… After what happened with my new stepdad — the DV and him trying to steal our laundry — I guess it’s a bit of a trauma…”

Oh, right. They had lived with the ex-wife’s family for a while.

“Want me to subtly tell the mayor?”

“Nah… it’s okay. I’ll just politely brush them off. Right now, I’m just not comfortable around any guys except you, Dad…”

Hearing that made me strangely happy. This kid really knows how to make people feel good — and she says it so naturally. That must be why the mayor’s grandsons are head over heels for her, helping out in the garden without even being asked… They even brought seed potatoes and vegetable seedlings the other day and offered to show her how to plant them.

“And Chieri?”

“They’re annoying.”

Ah… I’ve finally reached the age where my daughter calls me annoying… I’m practically tearing up.

“…Not you, Dad. I mean the three potato-heads.”

Chieri added awkwardly. So it wasn’t about me — thank goodness. Still, calling the mayor’s grandsons “potato-heads” was… well, probably because of their buzz cuts. Or maybe because they brought seed potatoes. Chieri seemed a bit more dry and detached.

“Still, we’re going to the cultural festival today, right?”

“Ummm… yeah.”

Today was the cultural festival held jointly by the village’s middle and high schools, and we had been invited for a while now. Since I only went through middle school myself, I didn’t know much about these things, but apparently, high school students often put on events like this.

It seemed they were presenting the results of their studies and research. I was impressed at how much serious work high schoolers could do.

○●○

When we arrived at the school for the festival, I was shocked. The school building was wooden! A two-story wooden building. Apparently, it housed the elementary, middle, and high schools all together. No wonder they did joint events.

There were fewer than 10 students per grade, and altogether — elementary, middle, and high combined — there were fewer than 100 students. Considering the village population of about 2,000, it made sense. Still, the turnout was pretty impressive, probably thanks to the village’s strong community bonds.

While there weren’t 2,000 people, there were at least twice as many attendees as students, mostly parents, making it feel lively.

We toured the school and saw projects like “Research on Zaza Bugs,” “Pumpkin Growth Records,” and “The Effect of Seed Potato Size on Growth” — all very practical themes. But there were also things like “Cosplay,” “Maid Café,” and “Maze,” which made me wonder if this was really a “cultural” festival. I was a bit puzzled.

More than that, I noticed we were getting an incredible amount of attention. My daughters were following behind me, but… why was everyone staring?

I was only wearing a wide-brimmed hat, the kind you wear for outings. But since it was their first visit to what might be their new school, the girls had dressed up rather than wearing their usual tracksuits.

The big sister wore a fluffy dress — she said, “The tiered layers are so cute!” — though I had no idea what “tiered” meant. I just nodded and smiled.

Meanwhile, Chieri wore what I think is called “Gothic Lolita” — lots of black and white frills. Since they were both so slender, the clothes suited them almost scarily well.

“Big sis, Chieri… I think we’re standing out…”

“Dad, I’m scared. Hold my hand.”

“O-Okay.”

My big sister took my hand from behind.

“M-Me too…”

Chieri grabbed my other hand. She must have been scared, too.

As we walked down the hallway, the crowd literally parted before us like the Red Sea, making it easy to walk but incredibly uncomfortable. Were we that out of place? Maybe it was obvious we were newcomers?

Anyway, it was not a comfortable feeling.

Just as we were thinking of leaving after making the rounds, there was an announcement over the PA system asking everyone to gather in the gymnasium for a musical performance. That piqued my interest. I mean, it’s been a while since I saw a xylophone or glockenspiel performance.

Later, I would regret not leaving right then…