As a long-running TV series that premiered in 1990, Tales of the Unusual adapted Japanese novels, manga, and urban legends into short, standalone episodes, each presenting a strange and fascinating little story to its audience.
Among them, the one that left the deepest impression on Kitagawa Ryo was an episode titled Grandma.
A young girl named Miho, visiting her terminally ill grandmother with her parents, is begged by the frail old woman to swap bodies for just one day—so she can fulfill her final wish: to see the younger brother she lost long ago.
Remembering her own happy childhood memories with her grandmother, Miho agrees. Her soul enters the elderly woman's failing body, while her grandmother's spirit takes over Miho's youthful form.
Reborn in youth, the grandmother skips out of the hospital, singing the songs of her girlhood. But the person she seeks isn't a long-lost brother—it's a lover from her youth.
Decades ago, they had been deeply in love, but their families tore them apart. Forced to separate, they each married someone else and lived out their lives apart.
After fulfilling this lingering regret, the grandmother returns to the hospital—but Miho, trapped in the old woman's body, can no longer endure the pain of illness and sobs uncontrollably.
"Grandma has no more regrets. Even death doesn't scare me now."
The grandmother comforts her gently—but in truth, she has no intention of switching back.
She clings greedily to youth, and she wants revenge on her daughter-in-law—Miho's mother.
Why was her own love torn apart, forced into a miserable marriage, while her daughter-in-law gets a loving husband and a devoted child?
Age and status mean nothing.
This is simply one woman's pure, unadulterated envy of another.
Envy of her youth, her marriage, her success—everything.
Though she had already seen Hoshino Ai's advertisements on skyscraper billboards and bus stop signs, Hoshino Ayumi still froze when she finally saw the daughter she hadn't met in over a decade.
Just days away from her twentieth birthday and coming-of-age ceremony, Hoshino Ai was in the most radiant bloom of a woman's beauty. Not only was her appearance stunning, but eight years on stage had refined her entire aura, stripping away any trace of the country bumpkin she once was.
Even in simple, soft-toned loungewear, she carried an invisible magnetism. Her posture was effortlessly elegant, her every movement exuding charm—an unforgettable presence up close.
Especially for Hoshino Ayumi.
Before meeting her daughter, she had gone out of her way to dress up, even dyeing her graying hair black herself. But her skills were lacking—only after stepping out did she notice patches of stubborn white at the roots, the messy black-and-white strands looking like an ill-fitting cap.
As Ayumi studied Ai, Ai studied her mother.
She had locked this woman away long ago—along with every scar she'd inflicted—sealed in a cage and sunk into the deepest well of her heart.
Compared to the face that had haunted her memories for over a decade, Ayumi's features hadn't changed much—only aged proportionally. But the heavy makeup made her look like an apple preserved in formaldehyde, unnaturally flushed and pale.
"What's wrong, Mom?"
Ai's expression didn't waver as she handed a pair of slippers to Ayumi, still frozen at the door.
"I actually tried looking for you these past few years, but I never found you. I didn't expect you to be the one who found me."
Rising to her feet, she gestured proudly toward the bright, spacious living room behind her.
"See? I bought this place outright—spent ten million yen on the interior. Not bad, right?"
Ayumi's fingers stiffened at the mention of ten million yen, but she quickly forced composure and stepped inside.
"Ai really has become a big star, hasn't she?"
She edged closer, her breath clinging to Ai's face like spider silk.
Though Ai could tell she'd made an effort with hygiene—no sour stench of unbrushed teeth—the moment Ayumi leaned in, Ai recoiled a step.
Among the peculiar traits Kitagawa Ryo had noted about Hoshino Ai over the years was this:
Her senses of hearing and smell were abnormally sharp.
Cheap perfume, the reek of half-digested food, and the pungent bite of strong liquor had once been the unavoidable scents of Ai's daily life.
Even now, they triggered both physical and psychological revulsion.
On days when the stench became unbearable, young Ai would lock herself in the bathroom and reach for the off-brand baby powder her mother bought—the closest thing to cosmetics she'd ever known.
That cheap, powdery fragrance had been her talisman, clinging to her until the day her mother stopped buying it.
"Feel free to look around, Mom. You'll be living here with me from now on—pick whichever room you like. We'll have a guest arriving soon, so I need to touch up my makeup."
Ai took a deep breath, steadying herself as she played the dutiful daughter and moved to the vanity by the bathroom.
Rows of luxurious cosmetics gleamed under the light.
No footsteps retreated. Ai knew Ayumi was still watching her.
She lifted her gaze to the mirror—her mother's face hovered behind her like a ghost.
But now, Ai relaxed. With practiced ease, she began applying primer, lip balm, concealer. After the preliminary steps, she selected her favorite rose-red lipstick from a dazzling lineup.
"Who's coming? More important than your own mother?"
Ayumi's voice sharpened.
She had imagined her daughter groveling to protect her public image. She had braced for hatred, for confrontation.
What she hadn't expected was to be ignored.
Watching Ai casually choose from an array of high-end makeup, Ayumi remembered her own twenty-year-old self—wandering the streets of Tokyo in cheap, ill-fitting clothes.
When she discovered she was pregnant, she had immediately told her boyfriend. But to her shock, he refused responsibility—fleeing all the way back to his hometown in Hokkaido.
At first, she was terrified. Then furious. She stubbornly decided to keep the child, as if to spite him.
But after Ai was born, as money grew tighter, resentment festered.
She hated the man who abandoned her.
And she hated the child who tied her down.
If not for them, she could have had a better life.
With the boyfriend long gone, Ayumi poured all her bitterness onto her daughter.
In her mind, after her arrest, release, and prison stint, the daughter she'd dumped in an orphanage should have lived a far more miserable, hopeless life.
That was her revenge.
Why—
"Oh, it's my boyfriend."
Ai tapped a small photo frame on the vanity—a picture of two.
"You've probably heard of him."
"Ryo's a little more famous than I am."
Casually dropping the words, she twisted up the lipstick and pressed it to her lips.
Just like the first time she'd ever applied it, Ai pressed down hard.
As if painting over those bleak, colorless years—
with the brightest, most dazzling crimson.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Long time no see guys, I am fully recovered so I will upload 5 chapters today.