“Nothing… it’s nothing, I just felt a bit sleepy in the afternoon, so I took a shower to wake up… The food will be ready soon, Aina, you go wash your hands first…”
Hearing his girlfriend not only ask about his activities during the day but also keenly notice the unusual fact that he had showered early, Kaoru Hoshitani felt his heart clench abruptly, as if an invisible hand was gripping it tightly.
He turned his back to Aina Saiten, biting down hard on the soft flesh inside his cheek, barely forcing back the tears that threatened to fall.
He forced himself to tug at the corners of his mouth, attempting to draw the same gentle smile he wore every day, but the arc was stiff, like a poorly fitted mask, and his voice held a faint tremor that was hard to hide.
Fortunately, Aina Saiten seemed entirely absorbed in the comfort of being home and the anticipation of dinner, paying no attention to his subtle oddity.
She replied with an “Mm,” then turned and left the kitchen, which was filled with the aroma of food, heading toward the bathroom.
When he heard her footsteps fade away, Kaoru Hoshitani finally felt as if a thousand pounds had been lifted from his shoulders.
He slumped slightly, letting out a long, soft sigh toward the bubbling soup pot, a breath filled with exhaustion and panic, as if he had survived a disaster.
By the time Aina Saiten had splashed her face with cold water to dispel the fatigue from work and stepped out of the bathroom, Kaoru Hoshitani had already brought out the final dish—a plate of golden, crispy, and fragrant fried shrimp—and placed it on the small checkered tablecloth-covered dining table.
The small table was now filled with warmth and comfort.
Besides the freshly served, still sizzling fried shrimp, there was a pot of curry beef in the center, its rich aroma filling the air, with potatoes and carrots cooked to perfect softness.
Two bowls of glossy, perfectly cooked white rice sat nearby, and two bowls of miso soup decorated with bright green seaweed and tender tofu completed the spread.
For the couple, this was undoubtedly a lavish and thoughtful dinner.
Although Kaoru Hoshitani’s cooking skills were not at a master chef’s level, every dish clearly bore the marks of care and effort—beautifully matched colors, tempting aromas, and the familiar, comforting taste of home.
In this fast-paced era, it was rare to have a traditional good man who would willingly put on an apron and thoughtfully prepare three meals a day for his partner.
Every time Aina Saiten thought of this, her heart brimmed with gratitude and happiness.
“I’m going to start!”
After a full day of work, Aina Saiten was already ravenous.
She pressed her palms together, lightly reciting the usual phrase before meals, then eagerly picked up her chopsticks, grabbed the biggest fried shrimp, dipped it in the tartar sauce, and popped it into her mouth with satisfaction, mumbling her praise, “Mmm! Delicious! Kaoru, your cooking just keeps getting better!”
Sitting across from her, Kaoru Hoshitani watched as his girlfriend’s cheeks puffed up, her face glowing with happiness as she enjoyed the food he had made.
He tried to return a warm smile, the corners of his lips curving upward.
But if one looked closely, they’d notice that the smile was as fleeting as a reflection on water—shallow and unsteady, the upturned curve clearly stiff and forced, and deep in his eyes, a hollow silence that had no trace of joy.
Even though he had barely eaten anything at noon and his stomach should have been empty, Kaoru Hoshitani felt no appetite at all when facing the table full of food. In fact, his throat faintly resisted.
He lowered his eyelashes, avoiding his girlfriend’s satisfied gaze, and gently bit the tender inside of his lower lip, using the slight pain to keep himself awake and in control.
He quietly took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
The breath, passing over his now oversensitive skin, carried a subtle heat he himself didn’t notice, one that was suppressed and feverish.
He had to endure—he absolutely could not, at this moment, show even the slightest hint of “abnormality” in front of Aina.
And beneath the table, out of Aina Saiten’s line of sight, Kaoru Hoshitani’s slender legs, wrapped in soft loungewear, were tightly crossed together.
His delicate ankles pressed against each other, the muscles of his calves tensed, and through the thin fabric, his knees and inner thighs rubbed minutely but continuously against each other.
It was an involuntary, unspeakable tension and restlessness, like tiny electric currents running under his skin or countless invisible ants nibbling gently.
It truly wasn’t his fault that he was “out of sorts” at the moment.
Because aside from him and that demon-like woman, no one knew what sort of long, meticulous torment he had endured this afternoon after the yellow-haired woman finished her pizza, fully satisfied.
It had been a cruel tug-of-war, targeting his senses and willpower.
Time and again, he was pushed to the edge of a cliff, feeling the dizziness and fear of losing control as he was about to fall.
And each time, just when he was about to give up resisting and let himself plummet, that woman, like a cunning hunter, would pull back at the last second, leaving him dangling at the precipice, suffering the torture of almost breaking.
Round and round, it seemed never-ending. It wasn’t just a physical ordeal, but the cruelest torture for the mind.
There were moments when Kaoru Hoshitani, in his daze, thought that perhaps it would be better to simply leap and fall, to finally be freed.
But of course, that woman in control stopped him from any possible “escape” with a cold sneer.
Like a demon coiled at his ear, she murmured again and again, her low, bewitching voice slipping through the haze of his fading consciousness, “It hurts, doesn’t it? Are you at your limit?… It’s simple. All you have to do is beg me, just say the word, and you’ll be free… Why suffer so much?”
The remnants of Kaoru Hoshitani’s reason certainly knew that as long as he spoke, as soon as he pleaded, this endless, maddening torment would stop, and he’d get a brief respite.
But… at what cost? It would mean utter spiritual defeat, the collapse of his principles, the deepest betrayal of Aina.
Once he opened his mouth, it would be as if he handed over the key to the soul to the demon. His body and will would be mercilessly devoured, left empty.
And loving Aina Saiten as he did, seeing her as his only light and home, how could he ever, because of this degrading, forced ordeal, so easily abandon the binding they had built with time and devotion—a bond he treasured more than his own life?
So even when, in the end, his body and mind had reached the brink of collapse, so sensitive that a single extra touch might shatter him, and even the woman had to extend the game’s intervals to keep him from actually passing out, Kaoru Hoshitani gritted his teeth and locked his sobs and pleas deep in his throat, enduring it all.
Of course, the yellow-haired woman did not show any great disappointment. She had never expected to break this seemingly fragile yet astonishingly resilient fawn in a single day.
In fact, if it had been that easy, it would have bored her, depriving her of the pleasure of slowly conquering and savoring her prey.
When she was finally sated, leisurely putting her clothes back on and preparing to leave, she stood before the sofa, looking down at Kaoru Hoshitani, who was slumped there like a broken doll, his eyes hollow and unfocused, as if his soul had already drifted away.
She crouched down, slapped his cold, sweat-soaked cheek with a hand that was anything but gentle, and a complex glint flashed in her gray eyes—a mixture of anticipation for his next reaction, a hint of irritation, and a deeper, possessive desire.
After that, she said nothing more, just curled her lips and slipped away from the “nest” that did not belong to her, as silently as she had arrived.
And so, even now, sitting at the warm dinner table, facing the woman he loved most, the wild, restless, burning current that had been forcibly awakened inside Kaoru Hoshitani, and never satisfied, still surged within him, pounding relentlessly at his defenses.
Endure. He could only cling to the belief, “Just wait until Aina gets back,” as he gritted through it.
So when Aina Saiten, having happily swallowed her second fried shrimp, looked up, wanting as usual to share her joy with her boyfriend, she was startled to find Kaoru Hoshitani staring at her, unblinking and intense.
That gaze was no longer gentle and affectionate as before, but burned with an unfamiliar, almost scorching flame of raw desire, so fierce it seemed ready to swallow her whole, as if she was the “food” he craved most at this very moment.
Aina Saiten was not a naive girl; she understood at once the meaning of the almost palpable signal in her boyfriend’s eyes.
Her cheeks flushed crimson, her heart skipped a beat, and she hastily swallowed the food she hadn’t fully chewed.
Embarrassed, she looked away and lowered her head, pretending to be absorbed in the curry beef on her plate, absentmindedly prodding at a potato chunk with her spoon.
After all, ever since Kaoru Hoshitani stopped working at the izakaya and began staying home all day, it was as if the two of them had returned to their honeymoon phase, with sweet, frequent intimacy nearly every night.
And Aina Saiten could clearly feel that Kaoru was serious—not only expressing his desires in words, but also revealing, in every action, his earnest anticipation for nurturing the next generation, as if he was sincerely carrying out the preparation for pregnancy plan.
She had never spoken it aloud, but she enjoyed this passionate love; still, deep down, there were moments when she wondered: perhaps… there was no need to rush? They still had so much time ahead, could take things slow, and just enjoy the pure world of two people…
But now, it seemed, she had no way to avoid it? When Aina Saiten put down her chopsticks, neither of them moved, but a strange atmosphere had already started to spread…