Today’s pure water stirred the hearts of Yana and her daughter.
Walking along the corridor in front of the tearoom, he continued forward.
After passing by two storage rooms and the bathroom, he arrived at the kitchen.
Though the residence had stood for many years, the kitchen had only recently been renovated; the countertops, faucets, and cupboards all looked quite new.
The slanting rays of the western sun filtered in, illuminating the area by the sink.
Yanaimi’s mother was there, washing vegetables, while Yanaimi herself busied around the stove, the air tinged with the aroma of grilled fish.
“Is it ready?” Kiyomizu Matsudaira asked as he reached the doorway.
“Ah, not yet—maybe another ten minutes or so,” Yanaimi’s mother replied, glancing over her shoulder at him. “There’s fresh coffee on the table. Have some while you wait.”
“Alright.”
He sat at the table and poured himself a cup. The coffee’s rich aroma instantly refreshed him.
He took a delicate sip.
Bittersweet, with a lively acidity—it was quite good.
As he drank, he watched Yanaimi’s mother bustling about.
She wore a gray suit skirt and black velvet stockings, evidently swept straight from work by her tyrannical boss to prepare dinner before she could even change at home.
Her long, silky hair was tied back in a ponytail.
With her sweet, oval face and beautiful eyes, she was the very image of a classic beauty.
She was a superb cook and managed the household with meticulous care, always exuding that gentle, easily-bullied aura of a devoted wife.
Her movements as she prepared dinner were deft and fluid—one moment washing vegetables at the sink, the next chopping at the board, then rummaging through the fridge for unprepped ingredients—each action flowing seamlessly into the next.
Despite her busyness, there was an overall sense of order and calm.
Matsudaira watched her, inwardly impressed.
To marry a woman like Yanaimi’s mother, capable both in society and at home, was surely every man’s ultimate dream.
If it were his own mother, Maki, things would be far more exhausting...
Just as he was thinking this, the voices of his sister and mother drifted in from the courtyard.
“Mom~”
“Koyuki, you’re back...”
Matsudaira tilted his head to look.
Bathed in the beautiful glow of sunset, Koyuki walked into the yard carrying plastic bags in both hands.
“My little darling, come let Mommy play with you—no, let Mommy give you a hug.” His mother leapt from the eaves to the lawn, arms outstretched as she rushed to embrace her daughter.
Koyuki paused mid-step.
She wanted to dodge, but there was no escape.
In two strides, Maki Matsudaira reached her youngest daughter, slipping her fingers into the girl’s hair and, ignoring her look of protest, ruffled the silky black strands until they stood fluffy and wild.
The girl wasn’t exactly interested in this treatment, but she didn’t resist either.
She merely shot pleading glances at her brother, silently begging him to intervene.
Alas, all he could offer was a look of helpless sympathy.
After all, he knew all too well that if he tried to intervene, he would only become their mother’s next victim.
With no rescue from her brother, Koyuki could only endure in silence.
Through the kitchen window, Yanaimi’s mother paused her chores, smiling as she watched mother and daughter.
“So fragrant and soft—Koyuki is just so adorable, I could eat her up...” Like a woman petting a cat, their mother, once satisfied, stuck her hands in her pockets and strutted back inside, both smug and triumphant.
Koyuki shook her head a few times, smoothing her hair back to its original sleekness, then, feeling utterly weary, picked up her bags and followed her mother to the living room, all the while complaining inwardly: If it were big brother, he’d have already taken these from my hands!
Truly, she liked her big brother best.
[Through comparison with her mother, Kiyuki Matsudaira’s affection for you has increased.]
“Huh?”
The system prompt left Kiyomizu Matsudaira dumbfounded.
Wasn’t this just catching strays out of nowhere?
If this affection kept rising so carelessly, he’d end up locked in a basement one day...
“Meigetsu, let Mommy give you a squeeze.”
“Ugh, Mom, what are you doing? That’s so gross...”
The playful sounds from the kitchen caught his attention, and he glanced over.
Yanaimi’s mother, with damp fingertips, pinched her daughter’s cheeks, provoking a strong protest.
The two played like kittens, reaching out playful paws as laughter rang through the kitchen.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Can’t help it—my daughter’s too cute not to tease!”
“Sorry, Mom, I’m no longer at the age to be your toy. If you still want to, maybe find yourself a husband and have another.”
“Ooh, good idea!”
“What kind of man would you want, Mom?”
“My ideal man? He absolutely cannot steal food from my bowl!” Yanaimi’s mother declared with mock gravity.
Listening from outside, Matsudaira couldn’t help but smirk.
Clearly, the pair shared the same disposition—truly mother and daughter!
As the scents from the kitchen drifted out, the sky slowly darkened.
A gentle evening breeze stirred, and the wind chimes under the eaves sang a soft, tinkling melody.
“All done—the omelet wraps turned out beautiful this time. Mission accomplished!” Yanaimi’s excited voice rang out.
Kiyomizu Matsudaira leaned in for a look. “What is it?”
“Tada!” She stepped aside, beaming as she presented five servings of omurice.
Golden omelet skins topped with green scallions and lettuce, steaming invitingly, made one’s mouth water.
“With looks like that, the taste can’t be bad,” Matsudaira said, giving a thumbs up.
“I’ll try it first.” Yanaimi Meigetsu scooped up a bite with her spoon, tasting it. Her face blossomed with happiness.
“You child, thinking only of yourself,” her mother chided.
“Here, Aki, you try some too.” Grinning, Yanaimi scooped up a spoonful with the same spoon she’d tasted from and offered it to her ex-boyfriend. “I made this! Come on, open wide!”
He couldn’t shake the feeling that her saliva was still on the spoon...
But it hardly mattered now.
Kiyomizu Matsudaira opened his mouth and tasted it.
Now, his saliva was on the spoon too.
“How is it?”
“It’s genuinely delicious.”
“Is it the omurice that’s tasty, or does it taste better because a beautiful girl made it?”
“Both. Happy now?” he replied with a touch of exasperation.
“Heh~”
Yanaimi grinned and turned to her mother. “Here, you try some too—so you can’t say I’m unfilial.”
“Oh, you remembered me? I’m so moved...” Yanaimi’s mother put on an exaggeratedly emotional face, opening her mouth to receive the spoonful from her daughter.
Kiyomizu Matsudaira: “...”
“Wow, it’s so good!” Yanaimi’s mother mumbled around the spoon, the handle bobbing up and down.
“Um...” Matsudaira started, then hesitated.
“What is it?” Yanaimi’s mother looked at him in puzzlement.
“Never mind, it’s nothing,” he said, shaking his head.
“Hahaha...” Yanaimi suddenly doubled over with laughter. “Mom, he’s embarrassed!”
A look of confusion slowly crossed Yanaimi’s mother’s lovely face.
“What’s in your mouth.”
“Huh?”
She withdrew the spoon and examined it closely.
Coated in saliva, the spoon glinted in the firelight from the stove, its slick, yellowish sheen almost indecent.
“Oh!” Yanaimi’s mother finally realized, her expression torn between laughter and exasperation. “So it was an indirect kiss—no wonder you’re embarrassed.”
Turning to him, she tried to keep a straight face as she apologized, “I’m terribly sorry! I honestly didn’t realize you’d grown up, Kiyomizu, and started caring about these things. In my mind, you’re still that sweet little boy...”
“It’s... it’s fine...” Matsudaira turned away, a little flustered.
Yanaimi’s face was full of mischievous glee as she eyed him. “Aki, you’re blushing...”
“Hey, you’re right!” her mother exclaimed, her expression mirroring her daughter’s.
The boy, teased by both mother and daughter, turned his head shyly, the tips of his ears tinged pink...
What could he say?
In the eyes of a mature woman like Yanaimi’s mother, a boy like Aki—cold on the outside, pure and bashful within—was truly irresistible.