Is It Okay If I Don't Want to Try Anymore? [1] & Synopsis

Is it okay if I don’t want to try anymore?

Having been given a second shot at life, Higashino Kanade spent less than half of it grinding away before deciding—he’s done. He doesn’t want to put in the effort anymore.

But before that, he’s got one last goal: to become a professional mangaka, publish a tankōbon, and live off royalties for the rest of his days.

After that? Daytime horse races and pachinko. Booze and mahjong at night.

If he runs out of money, he’ll hit up Konata, Shouko, Yuzuru, or Bocchi for a loan. And if that doesn’t work, well—he’ll either sketch a few pages or offer himself up as payment.

In short, Higashino Kanade doesn’t want to try anymore.

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Tokyo in September wasn’t too hot, but the wind had an oddly restless edge.

Lying sprawled on his desk, Higashino Kanade stared blankly out the classroom window at the blue sky, white clouds, and cherry blossoms that didn’t exist.

Ten years after reincarnating, he’d finally—reluctantly—come to accept the truth: he had gone from being a rabbit to a washbasin chicken, from Little Red Riding Hood to a genuine rarity, from Leng Feng to Liu Lu, from Wu Jing to Dong Xuelian.

Before transmigrating, he mocked Dong Xuelian. After transmigrating, he became Dong Xuelian.

Tragic!

Fine, so be it. If he had to transmigrate, he had to transmigrate. If he had to become a rare breed, so be it. But why did everyone else get to be a high schooler when they came over? Either caught up in some questionable youthful love story with Yukinoshita Bug-Milk, or nurturing an unremarkable side heroine turned saint like Megumi, or dreaming of a CNCF future with Big-Sis Pig—ah, no, Bunny Girl Senpai.

So why was he stuck in the overseas version of Chinese Parents?

Yes, you heard that right—Chinese Parents (Overseas Edition), not Japanese Parents. Both of his parents were Chinese, so naturally, his life followed the Chinese Parents script… even the online multiplayer version.

One player was him, the main account of his parents: Higashino Kanade. The other player was his younger sister, the alt account: Higashino Suzu.

How much sorrow can a man bear? Just as much as a bunch of eunuchs visiting a brothel.

Bored. So bored. He was dying of boredom.

Getting a second shot at life sounded like a blessing—until he realized he had to do elementary school all over again. After slogging through sixteen years of intense studying, now he had to go back and earn a grade school degree? Honestly, he wanted to bash his head into some cute girl's chest and just die.

He wanted to skip grades. Japan had a special program for gifted students, and sure, he was talented—but not that talented. He could probably skip elementary school easily enough, but middle and high school? Hard to say. The curriculums were just too different between countries.

He’d thought about taking a leave from school, too. But his beloved father was a loyal fan of Seven Wolves, and his dear mother? A master of improvised weaponry. Clothes hangers, slippers, brooms, feather dusters—she wielded them all with terrifying precision.

It was like that in his old world, and it was the same here.

Other transmigrators either had their parents sacrificed to the heavens or too busy to care. And the new parents? Totally different people from their old ones. Not him. His parents didn’t get sacrificed, they weren’t particularly busy, and worst of all—they were his actual parents from the other world. Even his little sister was the same little sister.

In his previous life, his dad passed away not long after he graduated, and his mom, stricken with grief, followed within the year. As for his sister...

Just a bad dream, really.

Kanade bit the end of his pen and shook his head.

Let the past be the past. Obsessing over what’s gone won’t bring happiness.

At the front of the classroom, the math teacher—sporting a haircut that screamed authority figure—was lost in the depths of arithmetic, waxing poetic like the Yellow River surging down from the heavens. He was questioning and answering himself with such momentum, it was as if he’d discovered perpetual motion. Meanwhile, he remained utterly oblivious to the students in the corners: some napping, some reading manga, some doing god-knows-what—all united in their refusal to pay attention.

As the saying goes, “If you walk by the river long enough, your shoes will get wet.” Stick around this particular “Yellow River” too long, and even if your shoes stay dry, your brain might end up waterlogged—and if you don’t duck, your face might just get a taste of it too.

Poor kids sitting up front.

Even seated in the very last row, Kanade could still feel the pressure of the math teacher’s "seed machine gun" voice.

Man, I wanna play Pokémon.

Every student experienced that class differently: some walked away enriched, others suffered through every passing second, and some slipped into a dreamlike daze. Kanade, who looked like a child on the outside but had the mind of an adult, spent most of it lost in thought. Eventually, with his head down on the desk, he dozed off without realizing.

By the time the math lesson ended, it was lunchtime.

Some kids headed to the cafeteria, others took their lunchboxes outside, and the rest clustered in groups to eat, gossip, and mess around. A few girls were talking about something, laughing so loudly they sounded like someone dropped a barbell on their heads—sharp and bone-rattlingly crisp.

Kanade yawned as he woke, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and walking over to the back corner of the classroom.

Near the back door, a cute blue-haired girl was peacefully napping with her face turned sideways on the desk.

A pencil with its tip broken off lay on the ground. A thoroughly stabbed eraser sat nearby in silent companionship. Her Japanese language textbook was neatly placed on the desk, though now partly squashed under her arm as if it were taking a bath.

Izumi Konata. That was the name of the sleepy blue-haired girl. His neighbor. His childhood friend.

Kanade knocked on the desk.

“Hey, Ultra Superhero. Open your eyes. I’m Zoffy.”

In her dream, Konata heard the voice of Zoffy from Ultraman. She struggled to pry open her eyelids, as if they’d been glued shut with superglue, only to be greeted by a familiar, pretty face.

Short black hair. Emerald green eyes. A face so finely crafted it looked almost doll-like—delicate, cute, youthful. The perfect candidate to be a host boy.

Konata sat up, only to flop back against her chair after three seconds, head lolling back like a completely dried-out salted fish.

“Time to eat,” Kanade said helplessly.

Fifth grade was supposed to be the age of boundless energy. Why did this girl act like a pickled vegetable that’d been stewing in an old jar for years—damp and gloomy?

“Oh right. Where’s my manga? You done reading it? If you are, give it back—I wanna finish inking after lunch.”

At that, Konata’s expression shifted. She glanced at her desk, eyes starting to drift.

“…What is it? Why are you staring at the desk like that—wait…”

Kanade had a bad feeling. He looked over at the desk, at the language textbook soaked in drool, and under it... sheets of paper peeking out. Sheets that looked suspiciously like his manga drafts.

“Those aren’t my original pages, are they.”

“…”

Konata turned her head, avoiding his gaze.

“Shit!”

Kanade had his answer.

A thin language textbook wasn’t enough to block the full penetrative force of girl drool. Most of it was soaked. The drafts tucked inside were no better off.

“This was an act of God,” Konata declared between huge bites of her bento, now using the desk in front of Kanade’s as her temporary lunch station. “The teacher’s voice was just too hypnotic. I couldn’t help it.”

Kanade said nothing.

Then Konata’s eyes lit up like she’d had a brilliant idea. “Hey, how about this? I’ll apologize by showing you my tummy. Then you’ll forgive me, right?”

“…Why your tummy?”

“I’m still in elementary school. I can’t show these.” She gave her flat chest a few pats.

“Even if you were a college student, that still wouldn’t be okay.”

Kanade knew exactly which trope she was pulling—but come on. Never mind elementary school—even adults didn’t do that kind of thing unless they were completely fried.

“Really? But in the game I played, the high school girls totally did that.”

Konata shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“A game is a game. Real life is real life. Can you not mix the two? And besides, the games you play… they’re not exactly age-appropriate.”

Kanade didn’t even know where to begin with her gaming choices. The kinds of things she played would wreck an adult’s nervous system.

Honestly, he couldn’t understand it. What kind of adult lets their daughter play those games? It’s one thing if it’s all-ages, but this?

A grown man playing that kind of game with his grade-school daughter… that was straight-up criminal. Someone needed to call 110 and get that uncle arrested. If not, Konata’s home environment would stay way too dangerous.

Forgive me, mister. But this is the last straw.

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T/N: KA! NA! DE! - Subaru

This is a fan translation of 不想努力可以吗？by 优的布丁 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!