I Was Sleep-Deprived at a Matchmaking Meeting and Ended Up Engaged - Chapter 22

After finishing the questionnaire and stepping outside the tent, Ayato clutched the pamphlet he received and muttered.

“‘Family’

So, that’s what it becomes, huh.”

A child was dragging another giant rabbit toward a different housing company, while their parent frantically tried to stop them. Nearby, another parent, drenched in sweat, was attempting to peel their child away from the ball pool where they insisted on continuing to play.

“…I’ll do my best!” Ayato declared, making a fist.

Masaharu laughed and said, “Well then, this way. Let me show you around.”

“The pamphlets are heavy.”

When leaving the housing exhibition, the two had received bags full of pamphlets.

“I’ll carry those for you,” Keiki offered, carrying them to the car.

What felt heavy wasn’t the pamphlets, but Masaharu’s expectations.

They declined Masaharu’s offer to see them off to the car. Another client Masaharu was responsible for had just arrived anyway. Ayato felt that if they stayed any longer, it would become harder to refuse.

Not that the houses Masaharu recommended were bad. They just seemed a bit too large for two people to live in. Ayato and Keiki were still uncertain. They couldn’t make an immediate decision.

“When he stares at you with those sparkling, pure eyes, you just can’t bring yourself to betray him, you know?” Ayato murmured in the passenger seat, cooled by the efficient air conditioning.

Keiki, still looking ahead, muttered, “…Should we corrupt him, then?”

—Wait, how would we even do that?

“Well… maybe get him hooked on mahjong?”

So, to you, mahjong is something corrupting.

“Or how about hanafuda?”

“In that case, I’ve been corrupt for decades.”

“Me too. I learned hanafuda from my nanny.”

Nanny, what are you teaching the young master?

The houses Masaharu recommended weren’t bad, but—

While driving, Keiki was also lost in thought.

That house was a bit too spacious. He worried that if the two of them lived there, they might not see each other much. He’d rather have a smaller house—one where they’d always have to see each other’s faces.

He imagined all the married people shouting at him, “You only think that way at first!”

“Then, should we make Masaharu-kun’s eyes clouded with mahjong?” Ayato suggested.

Ayato gave him a look that said, “That’s terribly prejudiced.”

“But you know, speaking of mahjong, my aunt Hanami plays like the Crying Dragon.”

—Wait, what kind of playing style is that?

They’d met during the matchmaking meeting. She certainly seemed like a strong player, but Keiki felt a chill at the thought of what she might be like.

“Should we practice mahjong for now?” Ayato smiled.

They had planned to visit his parents once the marriage talks were settled—and only after dressing properly. That’s why they hadn’t met them until now.

While playing mahjong at the Fujimiya house, Ayato’s father came home.

“Nice to meet you. That’s a ron! I’m Shiragane Keiki.”

“Keiki-kun, wait! Hold on!” Hanami thrashed about, causing a commotion.

…This wasn’t how I planned to introduce myself, Keiki thought, holding his head, but he didn’t let up in the mahjong game. He felt that if he were weak in competition, he wouldn’t deserve to ask for their daughter’s hand.

If he’d said that to Ayato’s father, he probably would have replied, “Well, as long as you work hard, your competitive luck doesn’t matter~”

Before they knew it, neighbors had joined in, and they were playing in a tournament format.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Shiragane Keiki. Chi,” he repeated, and in the process, finished greeting all the neighbors.

As they were leaving, Hanami said, “Tch. I’ve been called the Crying Hanami until now. From now on, I’m giving that title to Keiki-kun.”

No, I don’t want it…

“But Keiki-kun, you’ve really fit in with this family and the neighbors. Kai-san truly introduced us to a good person,” Hanami said.

“Well, we’re heading back then,” Keiki said, about to pat Ayato’s head—who had lost in the tournament—but stopped himself. He still felt reserved. He didn’t quite feel like Ayato was his future bride yet.

Ayato was sitting on the sofa, hugging his knees. He was looking at his smartphone, muttering something.

“How much of a motorcycle is still a motorcycle? Are people motorcycles?”

“…Are you okay?” Keiki asked.

Ayato seemed to have turned into a robot again.

The next day, Keiki asked Ayato, “The house is fine, but should we go look at furniture and stuff too?”

What was this? The conversation was getting more and more concrete. Even though my feelings aren’t that concrete yet, Ayato thought as they visited several furniture stores together.

“Most beds these days have storage underneath,” Keiki noted.

“That’s right. It’s convenient. Though it seems you can choose not to have drawers,” Ayato said, then stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Keiki asked.

“Without drawers, I’d be scared someone might be sleeping under there.”

“…Someone like me?” Keiki said for some reason.

Wait, why would the master of the house be hiding under my bed? I sometimes don’t understand this person’s thought process.

“Well, there are urban legends about people with knives hiding under beds, right?”

“Then we should probably get one with drawers.”

“…But then again, even with drawers, if you curl up, you could fit inside.”

“If you’re curled up in a drawer, aren’t you basically a corpse?” Keiki said, then after a moment added, “…Mine?”

So, one way or another, why is it always you under my bed? Ayato wondered.

Amid all this, Masaharu called with an invitation: “Would you like to come see the model house again?”

Well, it wasn’t that the house was bad. In fact, if they could live there, they’d like to try. But when they mentioned it felt too big, Masaharu said, “We have a slightly smaller house built based on that one as reference.”

“Let’s definitely go see that one,” Keiki said, surprisingly enthusiastic.

The slightly cramped aspect was a plus for him—he wanted to live always close to Ayato—but Ayato didn’t notice.