Haruki finished up his work in the living room, he stretched his arms and noticed the aroma of freshly cooked food drifting through the house. Smiling, he closed his laptop, thinking about going to the office to submit his project,probably tomorrow. His job paid well—far better than Sayaka—but she want to keep working, telling haruki that that was her dream job,and he respected that, accepting it without complaint.
Just then, Kyouko appeared in the doorway, a gentle smile on her face. "Haruki, dinner's ready," she called, her voice soft and warm. Haruki nodded and followed her to the kitchen, where she had already setting the table. Taking a seat, he watched as Kyouko moved with quiet grace, arranging the dishes with care.
One of the things Haruki loved most about living here was Kyouko cooking. From the first meal she'd prepared for him, he'd been suprise by her talent in the cooking. Every dish was full of flavor, balanced with just the right spices, and prepared with a careful attention to detail that made each meal feel special. He often thought to himself that no restaurant could ever quite match the comforting perfection of Kyouko cooking.
Haruki watched as Kyouko arranged everything with an elegance, placing a bowl of rice in front of him and setting each dish precisely in its place. Her movements were calm, deliberate—she took care with even the smallest details, like folding a napkin neatly beside his chopsticks. It was the sort of attention one might expect from a devoted partner, and Haruki couldn't help but be captivated by the thoughtfulness she brought to each small act.
The table was laid out beautifully, with each dish complementing the others, and he felt a wave of warmth and appreciation. This quiet care Kyouko showed made him feel valued, more than just a guest in her home. It struck him how natural it all felt, as though she were looking after him in a way that went beyond simple hospitality.
Haruki couldn't help but think, as he picked up his chopsticks, that she had the manner of a perfect wife—considerate, gentle, and unfailingly attentive.
Haruki watched as Kyouko settled into the seat across from him, her expression serene as she joined her hands in a slight bow. Together, they both softly murmured, "Itadakimasu," signaling the start of their meal.
There was something comforting about this quiet, shared ritual, even though they barely spoke. It was like in these small moments, they shared a private world. Haruki glanced at Kyouko, catching the faint smile that played on her lips as she took her first bite, savoring her own cooking. He felt a warmth settle over him—a sense of calm that made all the day's tension fade.
He took his first taste, the flavors rich and perfectly balanced, just as he expected from Kyouko cooking. She seemed to know exactly what he liked, even without him saying a word. As he ate, Haruki couldn't help but feel a deep appreciation for her presence, and a quiet admiration that grew with each passing day.
This was one of the things Haruki loved most about living here—Kyouko cooking. Every meal she made was exceptional, each dish carefully crafted with a balance of flavors that only came from years of experience and it like she understand how he like his food.
Haruki recalled the few times Sayaka had tried to cook for him when they were first dating. She eager to cook but clumsy, each attempt ending in something barely edible, the kitchen a mess of splattered sauces and burnt edges. Sayaka cooking always felt rushed, as if she just wanted to get it over with.
Kyouko cooking, on the other hand, felt like it was done with purpose. Every meal was prepared with care and attention, a subtle warmth that turned the kitchen into a space of calm and comfort. Haruki couldn't deny how much he appreciated these simple dinners with her, and a part of him even looked forward to them, knowing they'd share a quiet connection over each carefully arranged meal.
Haruki noticed Kyouko suddenly put down her chopsticks, a bit hastily. Her usual graceful, calm manner was interrupted for a brief moment, which surprised him. She excused herself softly and stood up, leaving the table before he could ask if something was wrong.
A moment later, she returned, carrying two glasses of iced tea, setting one gently in front of him before sitting back down with a composed smile. Haruki couldn't help but feel a quiet gratitude for her thoughtfulness—she always seemed to be watching out for him, even in small ways.
As they resumed eating, he found himself glancing at her, wondering what she was thinking.
She was truly beautiful, Haruki thought, his gaze lingering for a moment. Her skin was smooth and flawless, free of any lines that might hint at her age. The gentle features and soft expression gave her a youthful, almost delicate look—what people would call a "baby face." He hadn't expected his mother-in-law to look this young, and every time he saw her, it caught him off guard.
Unlike Sayaka, who was often too busy or absent, Kyouko always made an effort to sit with him, preparing meals with a care and warmth that Sayaka rarely showed. This routine—a quiet dinner shared in the calm of the evening—brought him a surprising sense of happiness and comfort.
Haruki gaze drifted, catching on her lips as she took a sip of tea. They were full and soft-looking, with a gentle curve that suited her serene expression perfectly. He hadn't noticed them quite like this before, but now, as he watched her, he felt a strange fascination. Her lips moved with each sip, delicate and graceful, and for a moment, he found himself unable to look away.
Kyouko noticed his gaze and paused, looking up with a soft smile. "Is something on your mind, Haruki?"
He blinked, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. "Oh, no... sorry, Kyouko-san. Just... thinking about the work.By the way,this meat is good, It's delicious."
She chuckled. "I'm glad you like it."
Haruki quickly focused back on his bowl, taking a bite to cover his flustered expression. But even as he ate, the image of her smile and those lips lingered in his mind.
( End of chapter )