Romantic Troubles of Duanmu-kun

Episode 63 - Rear Window



“Could it be that you’re actually quite clever?”

The girl wore a surprised expression.

Class Rep, who had been flipping through the rulebook from the box, unconsciously glanced in their direction.

“That’s pretty much the situation.”

Fujishima-san showed no intention of denying it.

“Thanks to the telescope, life hasn’t been so boring lately. Got to maintain healthy hobbies, after all—can’t spend all my time absorbed in video games!”

Peeping into other people’s lives hardly qualified as a “healthy hobby.”

“Um… I-I see…”

After her friend’s frank admission, Class Rep wore a deeply troubled expression.

She probably couldn’t accept such questionable behavior, let alone treating it as a form of entertainment. Fujishima-san noticed this and quickly embraced her, whispering words of comfort in her ear.

While voyeurism undoubtedly violated privacy rights, if the victims never noticed and there was no interaction between the parties involved, it was as if nothing had happened. In such cases of “nothing happened” and “no one was hurt,” whether it constituted a similar crime remained as ambiguous as the nature of the act itself.

Moreover, Fujishima-san’s attitude was unnaturally casual, as if she didn’t understand this was “wrong.” Or perhaps she simply didn’t care?

Itou Maho looked like she wanted to say something but never managed to speak up. This typical hesitation, born from fear of hurting others, was another of Class Rep’s endearing traits.

“Heya—”

“Eep!”

…And she was caught in another tight embrace. What a shame—it seemed he wasn’t the only one who had noticed Class Rep’s cute points.

“I observed the neighboring houses on my way here.”

The Novelist continued speaking while watching the interaction between the two friends.

The residential area consisted of western-style detached houses like the one the Fujishima mother and daughter lived in. The basic layout had six houses forming a relatively independent zone, with these zones separated by tree-lined walkways.

“It seems all the houses in this zone are occupied? There are cars or bicycles parked in front of each door. The gardens and hedges look maintained and cleaned too.”

“That’s right.”

Fujishima Misao nodded again.

The girl lazily draped herself over Class Rep’s shoulder, eyeing the Novelist with interest as she asked probingly.

“Hey, what do you think? Are you interested?”

“…In what?”

“The… secrets of ‘the people beyond the windows.'”

The downpour showed no signs of letting up.

The wall clock pointed to 6:30. Under the gloomy sky, the light outside had dimmed to pitch darkness, indistinguishable from midnight.

The cold dampness of the rain was slowly seeping into the room. Class Rep turned on the ceiling light and heater, quickly dispelling the chill. She then took out three blankets from the closet and poured hot water from the thermos into their cups. More than Fujishima-san or Kaori-san, Class Rep was acting like the true host entertaining guests.

“Oh right, this could be a good way to pass the time.”

Wrapped in the warm blanket, Misao seemed quite excited.

“The atmosphere is perfect! Just like a sleepover—ah, of course, it would be better without a guy here.”

The small bedroom, the warm yellow light, young people sitting on the carpet around a notebook on the table. Outside, the monotonous sound of endless rain. Occasional thunder rumbled, but otherwise, the room’s atmosphere was surprisingly calming.

Setting aside the hassle before and after, the Novelist quite enjoyed this kind of weather, especially when he could curl up alone in a warm bed with a book.

“These are my records.”

Fujishima Misao lifted her teacup, blowing on it with a “foo foo” sound as she spoke.

“Records, meaning…”

After the Novelist brought up the “peeping,” she had worn an expression as if suddenly remembering something interesting and made them sit down. However, Fujishima-san hadn’t opened the game box beside her, making her intentions unclear.

“The lives, routines, and characteristics of the five households next door.”

…Was it necessary to go this far?

She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself.

“Originally, I was thinking about game authenticity and immersion. It’s fine, right? If Maho-chan finds it hard to accept, you can treat it as fictional settings.”

“…Game? Settings?”

Class Rep looked even more confused.

By now, the Novelist had opened the notebook on the table. After flipping through a few pages, he began to understand Fujishima Misao’s thinking.

“…Fujishima-san, have you seen Hitchcock’s ‘Rear Window’?”

After a moment’s thought, the Novelist asked a seemingly unrelated question.

“Eh? No way, it won’t turn out like that. It’s just a tabletop game, everything’s fictional!”

Fujishima-san’s surprise lasted only a moment before she understood the Novelist’s concern, smilingly denying such a possibility.

“…In that case, it’s fine.”

As a mystery Novelist, he was naturally interested in social games of this nature.

“What are you two talking about?”

Class Rep looked at the two people speaking in riddles before her, her cheeks slightly puffed out in dissatisfaction.

“You’ll understand when you see it, Class Rep.”

The Novelist moved to pass her the notebook.

“Not necessarily! If Maho-chan hasn’t encountered this type of game before, she might not understand even after seeing it… ahem.”

Misao cleared her throat.

“Let me start with an example.”

“So, this happened last weekend. Because of my leg injury, I had to stay home to recover. Through the telescope, I could see into the garden-facing windows of five neighboring houses from this game room. Since they’re floor-to-ceiling windows, I could clearly see the people inside and what they were doing. I’ve been passing time like this lately.”

“In the house closest to here lives a mother and son. Mom mentioned this when chatting with the neighbors. That said, from what I’ve seen, the age gap between this mother and son seems unusually large. The son should be a high school student around our age, but the mother must be over seventy. Still, the possibilities of a late-in-life child or adoption existed, so I didn’t think much of it. Until one day…”

The ponytailed girl’s tone paused dramatically as she put on a mysterious expression.

—”I saw that high school boy bring home an unfamiliar young woman. She never came out again.”


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.