...Surely the craziness and her being an alien are just as bad, though?! Kyouhei thought, honest enough to pick out the flaws in his own feelings. I want to live normally... he concluded, as ever.
Being told to settle down when he was still just in high school worried him.
But...
“When I grow up, I’ll marry you, Kyou-niisama!”
He could still remember a young Pamil telling him that with an innocent smile on her face, not even half a day after they met. When he thought about that girl being Pamil, he certainly did want to hold her tight.
That was the truth.
In that case—
“...Senpai,” Sanae spoke timidly, pulling Kyouhei from his reminiscence. “Senpai... do you... hate me...?”
Another set of two options.
Kyouhei despaired internally.
He didn’t hate her, of course. She had a few oddities, such as her love for curses and magic... but she was fundamentally a diligent, cute girl. She might be a lot plainer than Pamil, but she was pretty, and a slight smile on her face truly drew you in.
Until the other day, though, she had just been Kyouhei’s schoolmate; he wasn’t ready for any of this. Having a relationship was one thing, but suddenly bringing up marriage made him recoil.
If he had to choose between love or hate for both of them, then he’d pick love. If he had to choose whether he found them attractive or not, then he’d respond positively as well.
But—
“Hahahahaha!” came a loud, irresponsible laugh from above Kyouhei as he worried. He looked up in surprise. “Hyah!”
A figure leaped from the catwalk above like in some kind of hero show. The black cape on their back fluttered through the air as they dropped, spinning wonderfully through the air to stop in front of them.
“If you prop up one, you can’t the other! If you do the other, you can’t Mothra!” the figure proclaimed.
“And why would I want to prop up a nuclear kaiju?”
“I have a wonderful solution for you as you grapple with that contra—”
Kyouhei stared at the person with eyes colder than a just-frozen goldfish in liquid nitrogen as he said: “So, what’s with the outfit?”
It consisted of a black mask with animalistic ears and a wetsuit-type affair with embedded muscles, making him look more macho.
“Huh? You’ve not seen The Dark Knight yet?”
“That ain’t the problem! Anyway, where have you been wandering around until now, you moron dad?!” Kyouhei demanded, pointing at his father, dressed up as an American hero.
“The Corvette,” Shuuhei answered. “Did something happen?”
“You’re damn right it did, lots of stuff! There was this weird military guy, a tank, and a flying saucer.”
“Kyouhei...” Shuuhei said, putting a hand on each of his shoulders in surprise, “have you been reading so much manga that you can’t tell what’s real and what’s fiction?”
“No!”
“Light novels then?!”
“No!!” Kyouhei yelled, stamping his feet.
“Now now, we’ll talk about the little stuff later,” Shuuhei said, looking at him in amusement.
“That could have been a diplomatic incident; you can’t call it little stuff!”
“This is a diplomatic incident too,” Shuuhei answered, pointing at Pamil and Sanae, of course. “On the one side, we have Yamato Nadeshiko + Eccentric + Brave Schoolmate + Glasses Girl—a plain but friendly girl,” he declared, gesturing with his left hand towards Sanae, before gesturing with his right towards Pamil. “And on the other, Blonde hair, Blue eyes + also Eccentric + Little Sister + Alien + Childhood friend + Princess with an orthodox beauty!” Shuuhei then clenched his fists and declared: “Whichever one you choose is the ultimate selection!”
“...You shouldn’t be speaking like that about someone else’s daughter, Dad.”
“Don’t be rude; I was praising them,” Shuuhei proclaimed excessively proudly, nodding repeatedly with his hands on Kyouhei’s shoulders. “I know how you feel, I do. Your old man has found himself in this dilemma many times...”
“You should have learned your lesson the first time! And don’t lump me in with you!”
In Shuuhei’s case, it was doubtlessly just two-timing. Or three, four, or even five-timing—such was the terrifying truth of the self-proclaimed International Trader.
That was why Kyouhei still didn’t know who his mother was.
“But, Kyouhei,” Shuuhei continued, utterly ignoring the censure from his son, “you’re lost because you’re always considering the future. If you look at the bigger picture, you’ll see things you hadn’t until now!”
“I mean, you’re completely right, but hearing it from you annoys me.”
“Haha, praise from my son! You’ll make me blush.”
“It ain’t praise!” Kyouhei yelled with a right straight, which was warded off by Shuuhei’s black-gloved hand. “...So,” he continued, putting more strength behind his fist as he glared at his father, “what are you actually trying to say? If you don’t actually have a clue, then I’ll be really pissed off.”
“Oh, so these are the wild teenage years I’ve heard so much about.”
“You’re in your forties and going wild—stuff it!”
“How rude. I’m still barely in my thirties,” Shuuhei answered. “Well, whatever. I know just how to break the deadlock. It’s a brilliant plan! Listen to your papa!”
Kyouhei narrowed his eyes and glared.
And then...
● ● ●
There was a building towering in the twilight. It stood, lording over its surroundings. It jutted suddenly out of the streets which were still like in the middle ages, practically destroying the harmony with its surroundings, arrogantly and vaingloriously.
The new building was a symbol of the rights of the new government, having taken a huge sum of the national budget while the economy was still unstable. It drew much criticism from the citizens, but the people sequestering themselves away there weren’t concerned with that.
After centuries of effort, they had finally gained—no, regained in their own words—ownership of that political might. And with that at their backs, they were busy, regardless of finally tasting victory.
It was the Prime Minister of the Manninger Commonwealth’s official residence.