I Won't Be a Loser

Most young people probably don't have a clear understanding of what it means for a woman to step into her thirties.

But Haruto understood. In fact, he understood it better than most—perhaps even better than married men who had reached that age themselves.

Whether it was Sayuri, who had been single for nearly a decade and spent her time around women with all sorts of unique preferences because of her daughter, or Mai Kiyoura, who was just as emotionally empty—neither of them were ordinary women.

Back when he was with Sayuri, before he had gone through all those hardships, the thought that crossed his mind most often was:

I don't know if I can handle this...

Drinking goji berries in a thermos wasn't enough. He had to add the American ginseng and deer antler that Sayuri had specially bought for him.

At first, it had been a dream come true. He felt like all his fantasies as a man had been fulfilled. But as time went on, something changed.

He started feeling different.

His body was being drained every time, squeezed dry like a wrung-out towel. That was when he finally realized—this wasn't right.

By the time it fully hit him, he had to admit it: under Sayuri's high-intensity demands, he had absolutely no energy left for romantic entanglements with other women.

"Ah... no... d-don't... don't come any closer—mmph!!!"

Jolting awake, Haruto shot up from his bed, gripping the sheets tightly, his unfocused eyes staring blankly ahead.

His rapid breathing gradually steadied as he took in his surroundings. Realizing he was still in his own apartment, he let out a slow breath, swallowing hard.

It was just a nightmare.

Last night, after Mai had questioned him about his past female friends, he had told her the truth—Setsuna was his first girlfriend of the same age.

And after that?

For some reason, Mai had suddenly started acting... strange.

The warm, mature gentleness she usually had as an adult woman was gone. Instead, last night had been...

Indescribable. Too complicated to put into words.

After enduring nearly four hours of torment, Haruto once again felt like a completely wrung-out towel—not a single drop left in him.

He sat up, dragged himself to the table, and took a sip of water before heading to the bathroom.

The sound of running water filled the room as he stood before the mirror. Staring at his own reflection—his dark circles glaring back at him—he pressed a finger to his lower eyelid and pulled it down slightly, revealing the bloodshot veins in his eyes.

"I really need to take better care of myself... or my eyes are gonna lose their innocence."

Compared to the clouded gaze he once had, he much preferred the clear, youthful eyes he saw now. He had to start paying attention to his health. Maybe it was time to add exercise to his routine.

After splashing his face with cold water, he walked back into his room in his pajamas, pulling the curtains open and cracking the window just enough to let the crisp spring breeze flow in, carrying away the stale air.

Glancing around, his gaze landed on the trash can. He stared at it in silence for a moment.

I should probably take care of that...

"And I need to restock, too."

Both his body and mind felt a little drained. Even young men didn't have unlimited energy.

Slowly, he walked over to his wardrobe, pulled out some clothes, and changed out of his sleepwear.

Ding-dong—ding-dong—

The familiar chime rang as he stepped into the convenience store, lazily browsing the aisles to see what he needed.

"Now that I think about it, I forgot the past two days."

Squatting in front of the shelf, Haruto picked up a pack of boxers—two pairs in a set. He had always been a boxer briefs guy.

"Come to think of it, most girls wear briefs, right?"

Holding the package in his hand, he stared at it for a moment. His thoughts drifted from his own boxers to women's underwear.

Yeah... I don't think I've ever seen a girl wearing boxers.

Except for safety shorts.

Still staring at the package, he slowly stood up—

And that's when he noticed.

"..."

Turning his head, he met the gaze of a store employee standing beside him, staring at him with a rather peculiar expression.

"Uh..."

"Yes? Can I help you with anything?"

"No, just... checking out."

"Alright."

Silently, he walked to the counter, placing the pack of boxers on the checkout counter. As his eyes wandered, he suddenly remembered his actual reason for coming here.

His gaze flickered toward the familiar store clerk. It was the same one from last time.

The embarrassment from before had mostly faded, so without hesitation, he grabbed the small rectangular box beside him and set it on the counter.

"..."

He could see the cashier's movement stiffen.

Though clearly reluctant, she still picked up the item and scanned it.

Haruto wasn't sure why, but a sense of victory washed over him.

After bagging his purchases and pocketing his change, he quietly turned to leave the store.

Ding-dong—

As he stepped out, he glanced back at the store. The cashier, still behind the register, was also looking at him.

The moment their eyes met, she quickly lowered her head.

Too stiff.

Silently judging her poor attempt at hiding her reaction, Haruto let out a slow sigh before heading back toward his apartment.

Once home, he unpacked everything, tossing the plastic packaging into the trash. He put some of the items in a drawer and tossed the new boxers into the laundry. Then, grabbing an air freshener, he sprayed it around the room.

Finally, he headed toward the kitchen.

After all that, he hadn't even made breakfast yet, and his stomach was already growling.

Meanwhile, in another room...

"Hey, Eriri, why are all your recent stories about daughters competing with their mothers for the same man?"

With little to do, Sayuri often spent her time with her daughter, watching her create.

She used to draw certain types of stories, but lately, something seemed... off. It was as if Eriri had completely changed.

Instead of the usual dark plots, she was now writing something a little more... mainstream.

Of course, "mainstream" was a relative term.

Instead of that, it had become something more like... forbidden romance?

The stories now revolved around a childhood sweetheart and her crush, only for the boy to be stolen away by her own mother.

At first, Sayuri hadn't thought much of it. She just assumed Eriri was trying out a new style. It was normal for teenagers to explore different interests as they grew up.

But as the stories became more specific, more realistic, and even started featuring a female character named Sayuri—

That's when she started feeling something was seriously wrong.

The girl wearing a green sweatshirt and thick glasses slowly stopped her paintbrush, looked back at her mother beside her, and fell silent for a moment.

"It's nothing. I just wanted to adjust my style."

"Adjusting your style is fine, but why do some of the character names match mine?"

"Huh? Just a coincidence. Look, the surname is different—it's Miyaguchi."

"..."

Sayuri sighed, flipping through the printed pages in silence. After a moment, her slender finger pointed at another part of the manuscript.

"Then explain why this one is named Sawamura."

"..."

This time, Eriri was the one left speechless.