Recipe For a Ruthless Delinquent

Chapter 3 Missing Children

“One… two… three—” thud.

“Ouch…” I hit the floor.

I was in my room, trying to do push-ups, but the most I could manage was three—and even those were shaky.

“Damn it…”

I switched to sit-ups. Same result—exhausted almost immediately. Then I threw a few weak punches into the air.

I wondered if I could ask Mom and Dad to sign me up for karate or something… but they’d just bought us a new game console, and I didn’t want to make them spend more. I sighed, flexing my arm and squinting at it under the room’s light, trying to see if it looked any bigger.

That was when Kota walked in.

“Iryoku Onii-chan, what are you doing?”

“Nothing.” I answered too quickly, pretending I hadn’t been training—and failing. I felt embarrassed being caught like that.

Kota grinned. “Onii-chan, you know, at school I asked my classmates if they liked survival stuff, but nobody got it. They don’t even watch the show! It’s a bummer—I wanted to talk about it with them. But then at lunchtime I found Kei-kun, and we played together, hehe. And we made this.”

He held up a crude clay figurine—a man in a fighting pose, dressed all in black.

“Is that a wrestler?” I asked.

“No! It’s the survival boy. Look, he’s wearing black—like in the show when he hunted the black wolf with a trap and used its fur to make clothes.”

“…Okay, I see it now,” I nodded.

But Kota pouted and squinted, then sighed.

“Kei-kun has one too. We played together and imagined there were two survival boys, both fighting against the wild.”

He smiled proudly.

I was glad for him. At least he had someone close at school. It wasn’t like that for me… Ale Onee-chan was already in middle school while I was still in elementary.

I started imagining her in a school uniform—short skirt, showing her big thighs, her beautiful red hair swaying as she ran across the schoolyard, laughing, books pressed against her chest.

I froze.

Then I quickly looked down at my lower body.

Something was… stirring again.

Panicking, I rushed to the restroom. A while later—seriously, I didn’t even know this kind of thing could happen so many times in one day—I washed my hands and stared at myself in the mirror.

I’d heard classmates whisper about this stuff before… and I'd even saw one of them pulling out an adult mag once. I guess the “birds and bees” talk Dad gave me was true, though it was really embarrassing having that conversation with him. That had been painfully awkward.

Then another thought slammed into me.

What if Ale Onee-chan got a boyfriend in middle school?

Some tall, muscular, stupidly handsome guy—walking hand in hand with her like it was normal.

“No, no, no…” I shook my head hard. She’s not like that… right?

Still, my chest ached at the thought. I clenched my fists.

I need to do something. I need to get better—to show her I’m a great guy. A good person. Someone dependable and strong.

Anyways, the days went on and our little gatherings continued regularly—until finally, the anime ended. Twenty four episodes in Twenty four weeks.

The last episode was wild. The kid almost drowned in a river as the opening song began playing in the background. Credits started appearing on the screen, but the action didn’t stop. The boy managed to crawl onto the riverbank—only for a giant bear to suddenly emerge.

Even though his body was exhausted and wounded, he forced himself to stand. In one hand, he held a Swiss knife; in the other, a makeshift rock knife. He lowered his stance, preparing to fight.

And then—cut.

The show ended right there. The opening song continued as the bear charged, the screen fading to black. Illustrations of the series, like manga panels, slid across the screen, showing moments from the journey. I felt something tighten in my chest—a mix of pure hype and deep sadness at the ending.

It was really awesome. Kota almost cried and kept jumping around, saying he wanted the next season already. But that was it. The following Friday, instead of Survival Boy, some ecchi romance show came on. He was really disappointed—and honestly, I was too.

Still, at least we kept meeting up with Kei and Ale Onee-chan. We played, laughed… but little by little, I started noticing my own shortcomings.

One time at the park, Ale Onee-chan wrestled with Kei, then with Kota, and then with me. I loved the closeness, the skinship, but when she locked me into a chokehold, I could feel her chest pressing against my back. My “little friend” instantly turned to stone. Thank god she couldn’t see it from that angle.

Then Kota and Kei rushed in as a tag team, piling onto her, and she let herself drop to the ground, pretending they had beaten her.

They were all laughing, having fun. She was happy. But I felt it deep inside—she treated me the same as them. Just another little boy. Just another little brother.

Life was good, even with all my insecurities. Thinking back, this was the happiest time of my life.

And just like that, a year passed. I was in sixth grade now, eleven years old. I’d been exercising on my own over the past year—though I hadn’t improved much, I did feel stronger. Still, I felt bad sometimes. I was still short compared to Ale Onee-chan, who had grown even taller, her body curves becoming more pronounced. Damn… just how many times had I done it while thinking of her?

Anyway, Kei and Kota moved up another year too. Since they were both born after April, they turned seven right at the start of elementary school, making them the oldest kids in their grade. Luckily, they even ended up in the same class—they were over the moon about it.

“One more year and I’ll catch up to Ale Onee-chan,” I told myself. “I need to prepare and become the best version of me. By then, she’ll be in her third year of middle school… but still, that’s when I’ll tell her how I feel. I just hope I’ve grown more by then—maybe even gained some muscle.”

Our school was close to our house, so usually Kota, Kei, and I reached the park first. Shortly after, Ale onee-chan would show up. We’d play together for a bit before heading home.

But that day was different.

I arrived late—I had to help with cleaning duty at school. When I reached the park, I looked around.

“Where are they?” I wondered. Sometimes the two boys would hide and try to jump out and scare me, but that trick only worked once.

Not long after, Ale Oneechan arrived, holding a bag with her books and a baseball glove. My face lit up when I saw her in her uniform—it was one of the best sights of my day.

“Yo, Iryoku. Where are the boys?” she asked, stopping beside me. My head barely reached her shoulder.

I scanned the park again. “I don’t know. I just got here too… I had cleaning duty today.”

“Really? What a bummer,” she said, glancing around.

“Kei! Kota!” she shouted.

But they didn’t appear.

We searched the park together—behind bushes, near the restrooms—but they were nowhere to be found.

“Maybe they went home?” I suggested.

We split up, each heading home, hoping the boys might already be there.

I arrived first.

“Hi, Mom… has Kota come home yet?” I asked, peeking into the kitchen.

“Oh, Iryoku, welcome back. No, I haven’t seen him. I thought he was at the park with you,” she said, a hint of worry creeping into her voice.

“He’s not there…” I said, hesitating. “Maybe he’s in our room?”

But the room was empty. I checked the entire house. My heart began to pound.

Maybe they’re at Ale Onee-chan’s house… I thought, trying to calm myself.

Then a loud knock rattled the front door.

My pulse spiked. Mom and I rushed to open it.

It was Ale Onee-chan, out of breath, her chest heaving. “Please… tell me Kei is here!” she gasped.

My stomach dropped.

Mom froze, fear flashing across her face.

“They’re not here,” I stammered.

Ale Onee-chan’s expression crumbled, tears welling in her eyes.

I turned to Mom. “Ale and I will check the school—and the neighborhood!”

“Be careful. I’ll call your dad,” she said as we rushed out.

We ran from house to house, searched the streets, peeked into yards, checked the school, and returned to the park again—but the boys were nowhere to be found.

Hours passed. The sky darkened. My legs ached, my chest burned—but I couldn’t stop.

“Let’s try one more time,” I said.

She nodded.

We ran back toward our street—only to see a police car parked in front of our house.

At the entrance, my parents and Ale Onee-chan’s parents were speaking with a police officer. Mom was crying, her shoulders shaking. A hollow ache spread through my chest.

Sachiko pressed a hand to her mouth, tears slipping through her fingers.

“Where could they have gone…?” she sobbed.

My dad, Isamu, stood stiff beside her, his voice tight with worry.

“They’re not like that. They wouldn’t just disappear.”

Ale Onee-chan’s father, Gosei, rubbed his face, pacing back and forth.

“They’re strong kids… maybe they just got lost,” he said, though his voice trembled.

Her mother, Alessia, clasped her hands together and turned to the officer.

“Please, sir… help us find them.”

Ale Onee-chan rushed forward.

“Mom! Dad! Did they come back?”

They shook their heads.

The officer asked Ale and me what we’d seen, where we’d been. He suggested the boys might have wandered off, imagining some kind of “survival adventure.”

But I knew better. They weren’t that reckless. They wouldn’t go far—not without Ale or me.

After the officer left, we tried to go back out and keep searching, but our parents stopped us. This time, my dad went with me, and Ale went with her father. We circled the neighborhood while our moms stayed home, calling everyone they could think of.

Soon, some of the neighbors joined the search.

Please be okay… please be okay, I whispered, tears blurring my vision.

But there was nothing.

We returned home late. I barely slept. I cried thinking about them, and woke in the middle of the night to look at the top bunk—checking if maybe Kota had already come back and was sleeping there.

The next morning, we tried again.

The police came back, but there were still no results.

Soon, their pictures appeared on the news.

“Two boys missing. Possible case of imitation inspired by an anime show.”

The story drew attention for a few days…

then slowly faded away.

Our families kept searching, but nothing turned up.

That night, I invited Ale Onee-chan into my room. She sat on the bed, head lowered, her body trembling. I hesitated, then wrapped my arms around her.

She leaned against me, resting her head on my shoulder, and sobbed.

“Don’t worry… everything’s going to be okay, Ale Onee-chan,” I whispered, holding her tightly while fighting my own tears. “They’re going to be okay.”

Minutes passed. Eventually, her sobs softened, leaving only silence—and the shared weight of fear between us.