I've become young again.

Not my brain age or my skin age, but really young again.

Time travel, as it is commonly called.

This is the past version of ● To The Fu ●. I don't have a car to go to in the future.

(TN: Idk what reference is this.)

When I learned this fact, that I had been rejuvenated to a first grader, my next action was to...

I went to bed.

Honestly, my mind is so confused that I can't think of anything.

Let's just give my brain a rest.

After a day of rest, I should be able to think a little.

I was so exhausted both physically and mentally by the shocking revelation that I was able to fall asleep as soon as I lay down on my bed.

The next day.

I was rejuvenated for the second time.

My body was still that of a first grader.

I was actually expecting to wake up in the morning and find that it was all a dream, but my hopes were dashed.

As expected, after 24 hours of sleep, I felt sluggish.

I felt a little lazy but forced myself to get up.

There was some noise coming from the first floor.

There was also a savory smell coming from my room on the second floor.

This was my home, and there was only one person cooking downstairs.

I went downstairs in my crumpled pajamas that I had been wearing for two days, making a thumping sound as I descended the stairs with my lightweight.

There...

"Oh, you're finally awake, Sho."

"You slept the whole day yesterday. You're too lazy just because it's summer vacation."

In the living room, I saw my father sitting on the sofa with a newspaper and my mother in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

It should have been a familiar scene from the past.

"Dad and Mom? So young!"

Strangely, I'm 22 years younger now, but my mom and dad are still the same, and, naturally, they're younger, but I can't hide my surprise.

Twenty-two years ago, my father was thirty-one years old, and my mother was twenty-eight, the same age as I was before I rejuvenated.

The fact that my mom and I are the same age makes me feel a little mixed up.

Well, I'm six years old now, so physically speaking, we're not the same age.

"What's with the sudden flattery? I'm not going to buy you anything♪."

Mom said, but her voice sounded cheerful.

I didn't mean to flatter her, but let's just call it what it is.

The truth is, I'm 28 years old, and I woke up one morning and traveled back in time to the first grade!

There's no way they would believe me if I told them.

If you're not careful, they'll take you to a hospital. To a psychiatrist, of course.

Even if it's true, making such outlandish statements will only make the situation worse.

It's best for my parents and me to keep quiet.

The problem with my parents will be solved in the future, but there is someone in my family who is more of a problem.

It's.

"Hey, little brother, don't just stand there. I'll kick your ass."

The tone of her voice was very young, and she used foul language.

The voice came from the stairs directly behind me, and I reflexively turned around.

And the owner was

Itosaki Yua, my sister.

My sister and I are two years apart, and if this was 22 years ago, she would be eight years old and in the third grade.

So, of course.

"You're so small."

That word came out of my mouth.

If I say something like this, this sister will.

"Argh! You're smaller than me, you little shit!"

"No, no, no, no! Stop it, you stupid sister!"

In a fit of rage, she immediately gave me an iron claw with a vein between her eyes.

Although we are of different genders, there is an age difference, and my sister has been doing karate since she was in kindergarten, so she is very strong.

By the way, I forgot to tell you about my sister and I's relationship.

My sister and I don't get along with each other to death.

It's not that we have any reason to be on bad terms, it's just that our personalities are incompatible.

My sister is basically a bad talker (like mother), and she always tries to get at me, and I tend to rebel against her, resulting in fights.

As a result of this repeated daily, my sister and I did not get along well.

It was the result of an accumulation of problems that led to the disagreement.

Moreover, the level of our disagreement exceeded that of most families.

Normally, we would have fights when we were young, but by the time we reached high school, we were both adults and fights were less likely to happen, but in our case, it was the exact opposite.

As the years went by, my sister's outbursts increased to the point where I seriously suspected that she was hysterical, and I couldn't keep quiet about it.

This went on almost every day, and every time we looked at each other, we would fight.

In the worst cases, there were broken bones. Mainly me.

It wasn't until my sister became a college student and started living on her own that the fights started to subside.

It is often the case in romance novels that people think they don't get along, but they actually love their younger brother. But in reality, that's not possible, and I know the future, and I can guarantee you that it's not going to happen.

If there was a button for me to die, I'm sure my sister would hit it without hesitation.

That's how much she hates me, and how much I hate her.

We were like cats and dogs.

That was the relationship between my sister and me.

If we weren't related by blood, I would never have had anything to do with these savages.

"Hey, stop fighting in the morning!"

"Tsk... yes!"

She reluctantly unclasps the iron claw at the urging of her mother.

"... Gorilla woman."

"Kachin (sound of my sister snapping)."

My sister got even angrier when I said that to her in frustration, and now she stuck her thumb in my mouth and pulled my left cheek upwards.

"What the hell?"

"Fuh-hah-hah-hah-hah-hah! (Screw you, bitch sister!)"

"I don't know what you're saying, motherfucker!"

It would have been fine if he just kept his mouth shut and let it go, but when it came to his sister, he couldn't help but retaliate and say something unnecessary, which ended up adding oil and fuel to the fire.

The fight escalated and I ended up getting injured. Mostly me.

I'm not as good a learner as I think I am. No, I know that, but I guess I do it again.

Maybe I just don't want to lose to this sister of mine.

"That's enough of you!"

My mother approached us, which had developed into a hand-to-hand fight, and with a dull "Gush!" a fist burst into my sister and I's skulls.

After the momentary pain passed, we were hit by a secondary pain sensation that slowly spread.

The violent side of my sister is definitely inherited from mother.

"Ye~s." "Hoo~y (Ye~s)."

My mother's violence brought me and my sister to a halt and we sat down at the table.

"Dad, come on. Sit down quickly."

"Ah, yes. I will."

Dad carefully folded the newspaper into four and placed it on the table before sitting down at the table.

My father is a mild-mannered man, the opposite of my mother.

It may not sound convincing after the way he acted towards my sister, but I'm more like my father.

Basically, I don't get into fights (except with my sister), and I don't get too upset (except when I fight with my sister).

But when she can't control her passions, mother side comes out, as in the fight with her sister.

It's as if she has a double personality, I think to myself.

"Sho, don't be absent-minded, eat quickly."

"Ah, yes."

Mom urged me to pick up my chopsticks.

White rice, miso soup, kinpira burdock, and grilled fish as the main course.

It's a standard Japanese menu.

... Mom's home cooking.

I've not had it in a while.

When I lived alone, I only ate cup noodles, so it's been a while since I've had a home-cooked meal.

Feeling deeply moved, I held the bowl in my left hand and took a sip of the miso soup.

I hadn't eaten any food for more than a day, so the salty taste of the miso soup permeated my body.

It had been a long time since he had tasted mother's cooking, and I felt like crying.

Next, I extended my chopsticks to the grilled fish.

I carefully separated the bones from the flesh with my chopsticks, avoiding the bones on the edge of the plate before taking a bite of the fish.

Living alone, I rarely get a chance to eat fish, so I am more than a little impressed.

Perhaps the hunger spices it up a bit, but it tastes really good.

As I was eating my meal, my whole family looked at me in astonishment.

"...? What's?"

"Sho... since when you that good with chopsticks?"

My dad suddenly asks me that question.

If you're 28 years old and can't use chopsticks, you're in trouble.

"No, no, it's normal."

"No, no, no. You used to not only be unable to hold your food well, but you used to hold it weirdly. Why did you suddenly become able to pick up fish bones?"

Ah, that's true! I'm in the first grade!

It's natural for my family to be suspicious if I've gotten better at using chopsticks in just one day.

"I don't know how to say this, but after a day's sleep, my chopstick skills suddenly improved. It's called the maturation theory."

I swam my eyes and made an agonizing excuse.

Or rather, it's not even an excuse.

"Wow, that's unusual."

"Well, I'm glad you got rid of the weird way of holding it."

"......"

My sister was staring at me suspiciously, but my parents were easily convinced.

My parents were surprisingly insensitive, which was a big help.

From now on, I'll be careful not to show my rags.