Kaoru Hoshitani felt his girlfriend Aina Saiten trying to cover up the fact that she was lying, yet his body tensed in secret from the tension.
Inside, he didn’t have any romantic thoughts. Instead, a salty, bitter taste rose from deep within him, filling his mouth and throat.
How could he not know?
They had known each other for nearly ten years.
Now, with a girlfriend whose skin he had touched intimately, who was so close to him, she was using clumsy probing and concealment to suspect him—suspect him of having an affair with another woman.
That realization was like a tiny ice needle, silently piercing his heart, bringing a dull, persistent ache.
Ten years of time—from their innocent, naive youth to stepping into society—they had witnessed too many firsts together, shared countless secrets and dreams, and finally came together to become the closest people to each other.
So why was Aina still unwilling to trust him?
This distrust, lying beneath their intimacy, left Kaoru feeling a helpless weariness.
But he seemed to understand why his girlfriend had been acting strange lately—she was worried he might cheat on her when he went out to work.
“Dummy Aina…”
Kaoru tightened his arms around his girlfriend, gently resting his chin on her soft head.
He almost sighed, quietly cursing in a voice only the two of them could hear—a mixture of helplessness, heartache, and a touch of misunderstood grievance.
【I love you so much. How could I possibly cheat on you…】
That thought churned inside him, burning hot, almost ready to burst out.
But in the end, he held back.
He knew Aina too well. Beneath her seemingly cheerful and lively exterior was a heart extremely lacking in security, with a pride as fragile as crystal.
Tearing through this thin, fragile veil would more likely carve a deeper wound in her heart, plunging her into even greater self-doubt and embarrassment.
He couldn’t do that.
He could only swallow all explanations and promises, turning them into a tighter embrace, trying to convey his unwavering certainty through body heat and heartbeat—something words alone could never fully carry.
——–
The evening breeze carried the lingering heat of the day and the city’s unique bustle, fluttering Kaoru Hoshitani’s slightly hurried clothes.
He briskly walked down the familiar street leading to Kawasaki Family Izakaya.
Neon signs lit up the shops on both sides in sequence, outlining the contours of the bustling human world.
“Oh, Mr. Hoshitani is here. We’re counting on you again today.”
As he pushed open the slightly old wooden door hung with a noren curtain, Mr. Kawasaki, wiping a wine glass behind the bar, looked up immediately, his wrinkled face breaking into a kind and sincere smile.
“Sorry, Mr. Kawasaki. I was making dinner for Aina just now, got a bit delayed.”
Kaoru bowed slightly, his face wearing an apologetic smile.
As he spoke, he skillfully placed his canvas backpack into the staff locker under the counter.
Then, he picked up the neatly folded dark navy work kimono and headed toward the small room at the back of the shop that doubled as a storage room to change clothes.
Just after Kaoru closed the old, unlockable sliding door of the storage room, a deep motorcycle engine roar suddenly approached from outside.
Then, accompanied by a crisp brake, a heavy motorcycle with sharp lines and a cold metallic sheen reflecting the lights came to a steady stop in front of Kawasaki Family Izakaya.
Wearing a fitted black biker leather jacket, Rika Kawasaki’s tall and athletic figure was outlined perfectly.
After parking the motorcycle, she took off her helmet, letting her striking golden shoulder-length hair fall freely, making her face—with its wild beauty—even more eye-catching.
Entering the shop, she quickly scanned the interior with her gray-black eyes, which held a trace of coldness and aloofness—at this time, before the evening rush, only a few tables had low conversations, and her grandfather still stood behind the bar.
“Grandpa, is Grandma in the kitchen?”
Her voice wasn’t loud, slightly hoarse, but clearly reached the bar.
“Ah, Rika, yes, the old lady is in the kitchen.”
Mr. Kawasaki lifted his head again upon hearing the voice. Seeing it was his granddaughter, his slightly clouded eyes filled with unhidden affection and joy, wrinkles on his face folding into a smile.
The “love across generations” was evident between Mr. and Mrs. Kawasaki and Rika, as she had been raised mainly by the two.
Besides, Mr. Kawasaki didn’t know about Rika’s activities outside.
For those who had lived through the “Golden Age” of Japan’s neon bubble economy, loving motorcycles and dyeing one’s hair blonde was clearly not considered outrageous.
“Hmm, I’m going to change first.”
Obviously, Rika couldn’t help out in the shop wearing biker leather, so she pulled out a tank top and shorts she had left in the shop for workouts from under the counter and headed straight for the storage room inside.
“Rika, you…”
Watching his granddaughter head to the storage room, Mr. Kawasaki seemed to suddenly remember something, opening his mouth as if to say something.
But after hesitating for a moment, he couldn’t form a complete sentence and swallowed the words back.
He rubbed his forehead with some frustration, mumbling quietly:
“What was I going to say? Ah, getting old, memory really fails me…”
Rika paid no attention to her grandfather’s sighs as she took the clothes and walked toward the storage room.
She stopped outside the storage door.
This izakaya, converted from a traditional Japanese house, still retained the old layout inside.
The sliding doors were the traditional wooden frame with paper panels, simple in structure and impossible to lock from the inside.
Without hesitation, she lifted one hand, naturally resting it on the wooden edge of the door, then pushed with a bit of force to slide it aside—
“Clack—”
The sliding door opened with a soft sound.
At that moment, as the door swung open, the bright light inside the storage room poured out unreservedly, almost dazzling.
Rika’s entire gaze, as it adjusted to the light, was almost completely captured by the sudden flood of milky white jade-like color inside the room—
Inside the storage room, Kaoru Hoshitani was changing clothes.
He had just taken off his shirt and trousers, neatly folded them on an old wooden box nearby.
Before putting on the dark navy kimono work uniform, his skin was suddenly exposed to the slightly cool air, carrying a faint smell of dust, causing a subtle shiver.
In that unguarded moment—
“Clack—”
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