Don’t Look Back, Megumi Kato [8]

“You sure took your sweet time! I thought you’d forgotten all about it!”

Inside the office, Hiratsuka Shizuka lounged in her chair with one leg crossed over the other. A slender, pale hand held a slim cigarette between her fingers as she exhaled a plume of smoke, giving Izumi Yuu a distinctly unimpressed look.

This punk made me wait? Bold of him.

“There were… some unexpected delays,” Izumi said calmly, eyes flicking to the top of her head where—sure enough—a familiar translucent screen had appeared. Though this one looked a little different from Kato Megumi’s.

[Name: Hiratsuka Shizuka]
[Age: 27]
[Affection: 50 (A mentor who holds great expectations for you!)]
[Status: Chronically single, often moody due to her inability to find a boyfriend. Full of frustration with nowhere to vent.]

“What kind of ‘unexpected’ delay?” Hiratsuka raised an eyebrow.

In a school like this, what could possibly qualify as unexpected?
Don’t tell me he got caught up in teacher gossip...

“I prevented a possible conflict. And helped guide a lost lamb back onto the right path.”
Izumi sounded almost reverent.

If it weren’t for his constant internal resistance to the narrator, he might have actually done something to Saika that would’ve gotten him arrested.

As for that shady woman from earlier? She’d probably stop playing games—at least not out in the open anymore.

“Huh?!”

Hiratsuka’s expression shifted from surprise to exasperation as she pressed a hand to her forehead.

So the boy looked all neat and proper, like some model honor student… but deep down, he was just another chuunibyou.

Still, it wasn’t unheard of. Everyone went through that phase, right?

She decided to let it slide.

Crossing her legs the other way, she flicked her cigarette ash into the tray and gave him a firm look. “You probably already know why I called you here.”

[Your mind begins whirring. You’re quick, sharp—and you put the pieces together immediately. A single woman in her late twenties calls a young male student to her office after school… there’s only one possible outcome: a passionate, forbidden session of “private tutoring.AVI.” But first, you’ll need to check for hidden cameras, just to make sure your future blackmail footage isn’t compromised…]

Private tutoring your ass. And quit it with the blackmail.

Izumi ignored the usual mental garbage and met Hiratsuka’s eyes with a heavy expression. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

She ground out her cigarette and snapped her fingers. “Good. Then I won’t waste words. You’ve gone an entire year without joining a single club. That ends today. You need the credits—and frankly, you need the personal growth.”

Her tone left no room for debate.

“Do you have any clubs you’re interested in? That girl who was late with you today—Kato Megumi, wasn’t it?—she’s in a club called blessing software. Game development. Want to join her?”

“No chance.”

Izumi shut it down without hesitation.

“Oh?”

Hiratsuka tilted her head, surprised by his blunt refusal. There had to be a story there, but she wasn’t the prying type.

“Alright then. I’ve got another suggestion. It’s a newly-formed club, still short on members. I’m the advisor. The current president is a female student—only member so far, actually. You interested?”

“Don’t tell me it’s the Service Club?”

Izumi gave her a wary look.

“Oh? You’re well-informed.”

She raised her brows, visibly impressed.

“This club just got approved. Aside from me and the student council, no one should even know it exists yet.”

Obviously I know, Izumi thought.
Every single fanfic involving Hiratsuka-sensei eventually leads to the ‘join the Service Club’ arc. Always the same setup. Same characters.

He just didn’t expect he’d become one of them.

[Oho~! “Service Club”—what a tantalizing name! If there’s only one girl there, you can totally ask her to “serve” you, right? It’s literally in the job description! With your face and charm, becoming the club’s centerpiece should be easy. Just lie back, and let the parade of pretty girls begin. Just make sure to bring enough blue pills and a full pack of mini umbrellas...]

It’s basically a glorified help desk, not a brothel, Izumi grumbled internally.

Out loud, he looked deeply aggrieved and said, “Sensei, you know my situation. I’m an orphan. My only family is my half-sister, who suffers from severe psychological trauma. She can’t function socially. I didn’t inherit anything, so I work multiple part-time jobs just to afford our tuition and living expenses. I don’t have the time for clubs. If I don’t earn enough, we’ll be out on the street!”

He even squeezed out two tears for dramatic effect.

It wasn’t completely fake. Their finances were tight. His parents had left them nothing but the house, and he did have to work a lot.

The “medical expenses” part was an exaggeration, sure, but not the rest.

Sorry, Sagiri. You’ve got a fake mental illness now. I didn’t blame your funeral—this was the next best option.

“H-Huh?!”

Hiratsuka froze, caught completely off guard.

Dude… I was just trying to help you join a club. Why does this feel like I’m being cast as the villain in a tragedy?!

Watching Izumi dab at those fake tears with his sleeve, she sighed and raised both hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. You get a pass. For now.”

“Thank you, sensei!”

Izumi’s face lit up instantly, all smiles and gratitude.

“I knew you wouldn’t make things hard on me!”

“But just so we’re clear, you are joining a club this semester. You’ve got two months to pick one,” she said sternly.

“If your family really needs help, I can offer some financial support. But you have to put in the effort during club activities.”

She wasn’t heartless. She wouldn’t let a student’s situation spiral out of control because of a formality.

But she also had a responsibility to guide him toward a fuller life.

“I’ll think about it,” Izumi said, trying to sound troubled.

“No room for negotiation! If you don’t pick a club, you’re not walking out of here!”

Hiratsuka glared.

“The Go-Home Club is a death sentence for your youth! I won’t let you waste it!”

[Her tone. Her eyes. Her dominance. It all screams three words—“FORCED LOVE.” A rich, powerful older woman forcing you into submission... You imagine yourself chained in a dark room, a whip slapping your back, her heel pressing you into the floor as she makes you beg for more. But before that, you’ll need a “happy toy ball” to entertain her…]

No thanks!

Why is it sunny all of a sudden? Oh, right—it’s this trash narrator trying to make it rain filth.

“Sensei, you’re putting me in a tough spot,” Izumi sighed.

“But you’ve never made any real social connections here,” Hiratsuka said more gently now.

“People think you’re cool-looking but way too aloof. Joining a club might help you come out of your shell. It’ll be good for your future.”

“I get social interaction at my job,” Izumi said sincerely.

“That’s different! Customers aren’t friends!”

She gritted her teeth but kept her tone patient.

“Once you’ve experienced club activities, you’ll be hooked. It’ll change your outlook. Your life.”

She took a proud sip of her tea, feeling very much like the teacher in a youth manga, about to be immortalized in school lore.

“But my customers like talking with me,” Izumi added thoughtfully.

“That fifty-year-old woman from last week even gave me a gift.”

PFFT—!

Hiratsuka choked on her tea.

“What kind of part-time job are you working?!”

Her eyes went wide in panic.

He’s not… working for sugar mommies, is he?!

She immediately imagined a tragic scene:
A beautiful, kind-hearted boy selling his smile and body to rich middle-aged women, just to save his frail, bedridden sister...

NO! Not that kind of manga! Not the dark web kind!

“Convenience store.”

Izumi gave her a flat look.

Judging by her horror-struck expression, her imagination had clearly gone full hentai side-story.

“Phew…”

She patted her chest, relieved.

Then straightened up and said firmly, “Anyway, I expect you to join a club within two months. I’ll find a way to help cover your sister’s expenses. Don’t worry too much.”

“Got it.”

Realizing she wouldn’t let him leave otherwise, Izumi nodded in reluctant agreement.

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

She waved him off with satisfaction.

“Then I’ll take my leave.”

Izumi walked to the door.

Not bad, Hiratsuka thought, watching him.

He’s stubborn, but not disrespectful. Actually kind of endearing.

But then—

Izumi turned back with a deadpan expression.

“Oh, and Sensei? You might want to tone down the masculinity. Smoking, drinking, street fights, drag racing, and punching trees with your bare hands? Even at 37, you might have trouble finding a boyfriend.”

SLAM.

He closed the door behind him before she could react.

“THAT LITTLE BRAT—!!”

Hiratsuka’s face turned crimson with rage.

Forget what I said. I take it all back!

BOOM!

Her fist slammed into the desk, leaving a gaping crater in the wood. Her knuckles weren’t even scratched.

---

T/N: THAT DESK SHOULDVE BEEN ME

This is a fan translation of 加藤惠别回头，我是伦也君 by 故人归 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!