Uncle Hikigaya is Forever Young [79]

“Yui! Hurry and thank Hikigaya-sensei! You’re so thoughtful, Sensei.”

Clapping happily, Mrs. Yuigahama looked two years younger as she sweetly prompted her daughter and thanked Ryōhei.

Dazed by the bustle, Yuigahama Yui finally saw the covers clearly—the legendary, must-have study guides from the Eastern mainland.

“T-Thank you, Hikigaya-sensei!”

No wonder they were so heavy—how long would three of these take to finish?

Even the dango bun tied askew atop the tea-haired beauty’s head seemed to droop as gloom radiated off her.

But her face showed sincere gratitude, genuinely delighted by the “gift of knowledge.”

If she weren’t worried about overacting, she might have “burst into tears of joy.”

Seeing her daughter so earnest about studying, even Mrs. Yuigahama felt deeply reassured. Whenever she’d brought up buying materials before, her daughter had been a thousand times reluctant… but under a teacher’s eye, the effect was amazing.

She should ask Hikigaya-sensei for parenting tips later.

Just look at the two kids beside him—so well-behaved!

Unable to resist, Mrs. Yuigahama finally reached out and gently patted Komachi and Akeno’s heads.

Meanwhile, Yui stared at the three volumes practically sparkling with the light of wisdom—
the Japanese-adapted Five-Year Gaokao, Three-Year Simulation, loved (and loathed) by countless students (and parents).

They compiled past entrance exam content, analyzed question types, and offered predictions.

The glare off the glossy covers felt blinding.

Worse still, Hikigaya-sensei had given her the simplified edition for first-years—impossible to refuse.

Though the series came from the neighboring East Asian Empire, it wasn’t ill-suited to local needs. In fact, the Japanese adaptation was wildly popular.

At first, it hadn’t stood out in Japan’s crowded exam-prep market, and sales were mediocre.

“How could East Asians understand Japanese exams better than the Japanese?”

That’s what people thought.

Then, the year before last, the Tōdai top scorer—a famous prodigy named Kaizuka Inaho—casually said in an interview, “Honestly, I don’t really know how I ranked first. I usually just flipped through the ‘Five-Three’…”

After that, the books exploded.

His words were even twisted by sensational media into a catchy slogan: “With Five-Three in hand, the world is yours.”

Ridiculously chūnibyō—and the public ate it up.

Students were wary and naturally despised the books.

Parents, though, knew the series by thunderclap.

Of course, rational parents understood perfectly well their idiot sons (and daughters) wouldn’t reach one percent of a Tōdai top scorer. That guy placed first on raw talent.

But buying a set just in case? Couldn’t hurt.

What if a miracle happened?

Even Yumiko had gotten the Japanese “Five-Three” as a birthday present from her dad recently.

Not long ago, Dango had felt lucky that her mom rarely went out and didn’t keep up with trends, so she had no idea what to buy.

And then Hikigaya-sensei moved in next door… Was he doing this on purpose, making life hard for Yuigahama Yui?!

These books compiled past exam content, analyzed patterns, and predicted questions…

What was Dango supposed to do?

Her mom’s face was all sunshine.

She was probably praising Hikigaya-sensei’s expertise inside, right?

Hikigaya-sensei!

Did you really have to?

It’s fine just to visit—why bring gifts?
Why so formal?

How are we supposed to stay easygoing as neighbors now?

Yui wanted to shout it out.

But she didn’t.

At a time like this, she just needed to smile…

Smile, and it would be fine.

She glanced toward her mother, where two little girls sat seiza on either side, each wearing a totally different expression.

Short-haired Komachi, chewing a milk candy, smiled cheerfully as she eyed the study guides, shaking her head with the wisdom of an elder.

Twin-tailed Akeno was kinder, meeting Yui’s eyes with pure sympathy. Startled, Yui ducked her head and sipped her orange juice.

She wanted to hug those two and cry her eyes out.

“Yuigahama-san, you really must study diligently! Ma’am, since we’re neighbors, I won’t feed you polite fluff. In recent years, Sōbu High’s college entrance rate isn’t as glamorous as it looks.”

Seeing Mrs. Yuigahama’s eagerness about her daughter’s education, Ryōhei naturally steered the conversation there.

At their age, talking about kids was the best icebreaker.

“Oh? Isn’t Sōbu High Chiba’s top school for admissions?”

Hooked at once, Mrs. Yuigahama slipped more milk candies to Komachi and Akeno, then leaned forward to press him for details.

“On average, yes. But among those getting into prestigious universities each year, two-thirds are from the International Class—mostly wealthy kids. The regular classes… they’re only a bit better than your typical high school.”

Though she rarely went out, Mrs. Yuigahama was no fool.

She’d grown up in a prominent family with private tutors.

Horseback riding and fencing—at least she knew the basics.

In insight and knowledge, she wasn’t below a third-rate university grad.

She grasped it at once: though her daughter had lucked into Sōbu High, her grades were still near the bottom.

If she fought her way into the top tier of the regular class over the next three years, a prestigious university might still be possible.

But… given Yui’s current grades… heh.

Her daughter had always been vague about her performance, but as a mother, she knew.

She’d held back because it was only first semester, and Sōbu High’s name was reassuring.

After hearing these insider truths from Hikigaya-sensei, she realized she’d been wrong.

Letting Yui relax too much would only hurt her.

“Hikigaya-sensei, I’m just a housewife—I really don’t understand much! Please guide this incompetent mother today!”

...

An hour later—which felt like years to little Dango—

Hikigaya Ryōhei finally took the two adorable girls and left. After seeing them to the door, Mrs. Yuigahama turned back inside.

She caught her daughter tossing the three books onto the small table with such relief that it wobbled.

“Yui, you can’t act like that! Your mom may not have accomplished much, but I still hope you’ll get into a good university. Just remember what Hikigaya-sensei said: ‘Aim high and you’ll hit the middle; aim for the middle and you land below average; but if you aim low…’”

Mrs. Yuigahama knit her pretty brows.

“I get it, I get it already!”

Yuigahama Yui—ran away.

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T/N: poor little dango

This is a fan translation of 比企谷大叔永远年轻 by Stargazer 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!