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Watching Sayaka enjoy the ramen seemed to awaken a small craving in Kyouko. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had instant noodles—it felt like a guilty pleasure from years ago. With a little smile, she decided to indulge herself for once.

She quietly made her way back to the kitchen, taking out a pack of ramen from the pantry. As she prepared the noodles, Kyouko added a few of her own touches: a sprinkle of green onions, a dash of sesame oil, and some leftover vegetables she found in the fridge. The aroma brought back memories of simpler times, making her feel unexpectedly nostalgic.

When her bowl was ready, she returned to the table and sat down across from Sayaka and Haruki. Sayaka looked up, mildly surprised but amused. "Mom, are you really eating ramen with us?"

Kyouko laughed softly. "Just this once. It feels like a small treat."

Haruki smiled, watching them both enjoy the simple meal, feeling a rare warmth fill the room. Moments like this made him appreciate being part of this family, finding comfort in the shared simplicity.

After finishing her bowl of ramen, Sayaka stretched, letting out a sleepy sigh. She stood up, wobbling slightly, her exhaustion obvious. She glanced at Haruki with a tired smile. "I’m heading upstairs."

Kyouko, noticing her daughter’s state, looked over with a gentle but mischievous smile. "Sayaka, you should shower before bed."

Sayaka shook her head, giving her mom a playful but tired look. "Too tired, Mom."

Kyouko raised an eyebrow, feigning concern. "And how do you expect Haruki to sleep next to you if you’re all... smelly?" she teased, her tone light and playful.

"Mom!" Sayaka whined, pouting as her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "I don’t smell!"

Kyouko chuckled softly, watching Sayaka grumble as she headed up the stairs. Haruki caught Kyouko’s amused glance, smiling as he watched the easy, teasing bond between mother and daughter. Kyouko’s gentle teasing, so affectionate and warm, reminded him of why he felt so at ease in this house.

As Sayaka disappeared into their bedroom, Kyouko sighed, a gentle, motherly look softening her features. She glanced over at Haruki and gave a small shrug. "I suppose she’ll manage without it just this once."

Haruki laughed quietly, feeling comforted by her presence.

Haruki gathered the dishes, he approached the sink,was about to start cleaning the dishes when Kyouko gently placed her hand on his arm, her touch warm and comforting. With a soft smile, she said, "No need, Haruki. You should go upstairs and keep Sayaka company. She's probably already asleep.Dont worry about this,i can finish up here. "

His eyes were immediately drawn to the curve of her waist, a subtle yet captivating feature. But it was her shapely and inviting buttocks that truly captured his attention. The way her curves accentuated her figure left him in awe, and he knew he shouldn't stare, but in that moment, he couldn't help himself.

Kyouko's beauty was striking, and these simple, shared moments always left a lasting impression on him. Her elegance and femininity were a contrast to the quietness of the kitchen, and he found himself drawn to her, captivated by her presence.

"Haruki, are you alright?" Kyouko's voice broke the silence, her concern evident in her tone.

Startled, Haruki quickly snapped out of his trance. A mix of emotions crossed his face—embarrassment, desire, and a hint of guilt. He knew he had to be cautious with these feelings.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied, his voice steady but his eyes averted. "I just... I should go upstairs."

Shaking off the thought, he quickly headed up the stairs, hoping to clear his mind and suppress the growing desire that threatened to overwhelm him. The image of Kyouko's figure, her curves, and the subtle sway of her hips lingered in his mind, a secret longing he had to keep hidden.

As Haruki climbed the stairs, his mind wandered back to Kyouko, and he found himself unable to shake the thoughts that had been swirling in his head. No matter how hard he tried to push them away, he couldn't deny the captivating nature of her presence.

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Her elegance, a quiet confidence that seemed to emanate from within, made her stand out. Her warmth and beauty were undeniable, and the way she carried herself with such grace made her appear almost timeless, as if she defied the passage of years.

Kyouko's body, with its inviting curves, was a source of fascination for Haruki. Her breasts, round and plump, seemed to beckon, and her waist, slender yet defined, added to her overall allure. Her buttocks, firm and shapely, completed the picture of a woman who was not only beautiful but also youthful and gentle.

She was, in every way, perfect in Haruki's eyes. And the more he was around her, the more he realized that he couldn't look at her in the same way as he did with others. There was an unspoken attraction, a magnetic pull that he couldn't ignore, even if he knew he shouldn't.

Even though he knew it was inappropriate, a part of him refused to stop feeling drawn to her. It was a secret longing, a desire that he had to keep hidden, but it was there nonetheless. The thought of her beauty, her gentleness, and the way she made him feel left an indelible mark on his heart.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Haruki took a deep breath, determined to shake off these feelings, at least for the night. But deep down, he knew that the attraction he felt for Kyouko was something he couldn't easily ignore or forget.

Haruki stepped into the dimly lit bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. Sayaka was already asleep, curled up peacefully under the covers, her breathing steady. He watched her for a moment, debating whether to wake her. It wasn’t just about intimacy; after the long days they both endured, he wanted to feel that closeness with her, to remind himself that they were still connected despite their busy lives.

He took a deep breath, setting aside his longing. Sayaka looked exhausted, and he didn’t want to disturb her rest. Haruki sighed quietly, slipping into bed beside her and pulling the blanket over them both. As he lay there, he reminded himself of the commitment they had made to each other.

After Sayaka and Haruki went upstairs, Kyouko quietly finished the dishes. As she placed the last plate on the rack, she heard the unmistakable rumble of a taxi pulling up outside. Her heart sank slightly; it could only mean her husband was home—and judging by the noise, likely in one of his usual drunken states.

She rushed to the front door and opened it, just in time to see him stumbling out of the taxi, laughing loudly as he handed the driver some cash, his movements clumsy and exaggerated. Kyouko sighed, stepping forward to help him. Supporting his heavy, swaying frame, she guided him inside, his drunken laughter echoing through the quiet house. With each step, his weight seemed to grow heavier, and she struggled to keep him steady as they made their way to their bedroom.

Finally reaching the bed, she laid him down, his face slack and flushed, muttering to himself as he quickly began to doze off. Kyouko stood over him, gazing down with a mixture of resignation and disappointment. This was her husband now—a man consumed by his vices, his care for her long forgotten. The gentle man she once knew seemed buried beneath layers of indifference and intoxication. She wondered when the last time was that he’d looked at her with any real affection or even taken notice of her presence.

With a tired sigh, she turned and left the room, heading down the hall to the bathroom. She washed her hands, splashing some cool water on her face, letting herself unwind a little from the strain of the evening. Once she’d relieved herself and washed her hands again, she took a deep breath, composing herself. The quiet solitude of the bathroom offered her a brief moment of peace. Finally, she turned off the light and headed back to her own room.

Kyouko looked at her husband lying on the bed, a wave of disappointment washing over her. She went to the closet, taking out a futon and laying it out a bit farther from the bed. She had no desire to sleep beside a man who not only came home drunk but also no longer appreciated her.

Setting her pillow down, she lay on the futon, feeling the cool, quiet distance between them, and allowed herself a moment to breathe away from the bitterness of her own thoughts.

As Kyouko lay on the futon, staring up at the ceiling, she began to wonder just how much longer she could hold on. Her husband’s neglect felt like a hollow ache, one that had grown deeper over the years. She was a woman with her own needs and desires, yet he seemed oblivious, never reaching for her, never touching her in the way he once had. The simple intimacy she craved—someone’s warmth beside her, a lingering gaze, a gentle touch—felt like an impossible dream now.

Her fingers traced patterns along the fabric of the futon as her thoughts drifted, and she found herself feeling strangely empty. How long would she continue to be ignored like this? To have her desires brushed aside, her presence taken for granted? The answer, she feared, was not something she could find tonight. But the question lingered, filling the quiet room with a sense of longing she could no longer ignore.

Kyouko had never once strayed from her marriage, even as the years chipped away at the passion she once shared with her husband. When she went out, whether for groceries or a walk in the neighborhood, younger men would sometimes approach her, their eyes lingering with admiration or bold attempts to flirt. She would always offer them a polite smile, gently declining their advances.

Despite feeling flattered by their attention, Kyouko remained faithful. She held onto her vows, honoring the commitment she’d made, hoping that maybe one day her husband might look at her that way again, might see her in the same light she once saw herself.

But tonight, lying on the futon, the reality weighed heavily on her. She had sacrificed so much of herself to remain loyal, to be the wife he needed, even if he never acknowledged her efforts.

( End of Chapter )