Kyouko's anger simmered beneath her calm, composed exterior. Her husband's casual, dismissive glance at her naked body had been the last straw. It wasn't just that he was older; he had grown indifferent to her—a shadow of the man she once loved. Now, he barely noticed her at all, acknowledging her presence with the same careless indifference he showed everything else in his life. His complete lack of reaction to her body stung deeply.
She bit her lip, forcing a smile as her mind raced. The contrast between him and Haruki was undeniable. Haruki—young, handsome, filled with desire—had reacted so differently. When the towel had accidentally slipped from her body, his eyes had widened in shock, filled with desire. She hadn't missed how his gaze lingered, captivated by her smooth skin, her full breasts, her pink nipples, and her youthful appearance. That look had awakened a feeling inside her that she hadn't experienced in years.
Why does my husband have no reaction? she thought bitterly. Meanwhile, Haruki, younger and more passionate, couldn't look away.
Her smile remained, masking the storm of emotions within her. She was furious but wouldn't show it—not to her husband. There was no point; he had stopped caring about her long ago, and she had given up expecting anything from him.
But Haruki was different. He noticed her and saw her, and Kyouko couldn't help but feel satisfaction in that, even if it was unintentional. That brief moment reminded her of what she still had—her beauty, her desirability, and the ability to attract a younger man.
It confused her—how could her husband be so indifferent? After years of taking care of herself, her body was still smooth, youthful, and vibrant. She took pride in keeping her skin soft, her figure slim, and her appearance fresh. She wasn't some middle-aged woman with dry skin or a tired figure; she had worked hard to maintain her looks. Yet her husband couldn't care less.
He should be grateful, she thought bitterly. If her body had aged like his—wrinkled, worn, with a bulging belly—his indifference might be understandable. But that wasn't the case. She knew she was still beautiful and desirable. Each morning, her mirror reflected a youthful face and a toned figure—a woman who could be mistaken for someone much younger. Yet her husband, this old, drunken man, barely saw her anymore.
With a final glance at her husband, who lay half-asleep and utterly oblivious, Kyouko's smile widened slightly. Let him rot in his drunken indifference, she thought. Haruki's reaction had given her all the validation she needed.
Her anger settled into a quiet, cold resolve. She wasn't going to let her husband's lack of interest define her anymore. She had options—perhaps ones she wasn't ready to fully explore yet, but they were there.
Still smiling, she turned away from her husband, her mind drifting back to the memory of Haruki's wide-eyed gaze, fixed on her naked body.
Kyouko paused, her hand hovering over a modest dress she had pulled from her wardrobe. Staring at it, her thoughts churned. Why should I wear this? The urge to choose something more daring, something that would accentuate her body and draw attention to what her husband had failed to notice, pulsed within her.
Turning back to her wardrobe, she let the plain dress slip from her hand and hung it back in its place. She wanted to feel alive again, to be seen. If her husband couldn't give her that, she'd find it elsewhere. Haruki's gaze had shown her that her efforts weren't in vain. He had looked at her with hunger, with a longing she hadn't felt in years. The memory made her heart race again.
Kyouko sifted through her clothes, searching for something that would reveal more of her smooth skin—something that would make her feel bold, powerful, and, most importantly, desired. Her fingers brushed over a few dresses until she finally settled on a soft, silky top with a plunging neckline and a fitted skirt that hugged her curves. It was just revealing enough to keep Haruki's eyes on her without being too obvious.
This is it, she thought, a sly smile forming on her lips. It was playful and subtly revealing—just enough to make Haruki notice her even more.
She quickly changed into the outfit, checking herself in the mirror. The plunging neckline drew attention to her cleavage, while the skirt accentuated her waist and hips. She smoothed her hands over the fabric, feeling more confident than she had in a long time.
Kyouko gazed at her reflection with newfound determination. While her outfit might catch Haruki's attention, she knew it wouldn't satisfy the growing desire within her—the need to be truly noticed, admired, and craved. She wanted more than fleeting glances; she wanted the kind of attraction she had been deprived of for so long.
Running her fingers down her waist, she thought about what she truly wanted: something bold, daring, and irresistible. I need new clothes. Something that shows off my thighs, my curves… even my breasts, she thought, excitement stirring within her.
She had always dressed modestly, a habit ingrained from her role as a wife and mother. But why should she hide herself any longer? She was still beautiful, still youthful, and she deserved to feel that way. The desire for attention and admiration burned hotter now than ever before. Her husband's cold indifference had pushed her to this point, and Haruki's gaze had ignited a flame she could no longer ignore.
I'll go shopping today, she decided. I'll find something that shows everything—the legs, the curves, the chest. I want to feel every gaze on me.
The thought thrilled her, sending a rush through her body. It wasn't just about Haruki anymore; it was about reclaiming a part of herself that had been buried under years of neglect. She wanted to be desired again, not as a wife, but as a woman.
A slow, confident smile spread across her lips. She knew exactly what kind of dress she was going to buy—something tight, something short, something that would turn heads. Today would be the first step toward getting what she truly craved.
She glanced at her wardrobe one last time, then turned toward the door, her mind already envisioning the shopping trip ahead. Kyouko was ready to embrace this side of herself, to feel desired and alive once more.
She left her room with a calm, casual stride, fully aware of the power she held. She wasn't flustered anymore about what had happened earlier; if anything, it gave her a sense of control. Moving toward the kitchen, she spotted Haruki in the living room, his face calm but betraying a hint of the memory that lingered between them. She knew he hadn't forgotten the moment her towel had slipped. Neither had she.
She grabbed a can of drink from the fridge, her mind buzzing with her next move. The "accident" earlier had given her a taste of what was possible, and now she wanted to see how far she could push the boundaries. She wasn't worried about what Haruki had seen; in fact, she relished the memory of his wide-eyed gaze, locked onto her body, filled with desire. Kyouko smiled to herself as she approached the living room, pretending nothing unusual had happened.
With a casual tone, she greeted Haruki and sat in front of him, crossing her legs just enough to reveal a hint of skin.
"Haruki, I'm really sorry about earlier," she said, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. "You must've been horrified… seeing something so terrible, right? My old, wrinkled body… it must've been awful for you, don't you think?"
Her words were laced with mock self-deprecation, but Kyouko knew exactly what she was doing. She played the role of the embarrassed, aging woman, yet inside, she knew her body was far from that image. She had worked hard to maintain her youthful appearance—smooth skin, firm curves. She didn't have wrinkles or sagging skin, and she knew Haruki had noticed.
Haruki looked at her, unsure how to respond. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. He was clearly caught off guard, uncertain if she was being serious or playful. In that moment, Kyouko reveled in the confusion, the tension, and the way his eyes couldn't help but flicker to her exposed skin, despite the awkwardness of the situation.
She savored every second of his discomfort, fully aware that what he'd seen was far from horrible. She had sensed the lust in his eyes, the raw desire with which he had looked at her, and she craved more of it. Haruki couldn't hide his reaction, and that made Kyouko feel powerful—desired, wanted, even in her so-called "old age."
Taking a slow sip of her drink, she watched him carefully, her smile barely hidden behind the can. Inside, she relished the knowledge that Haruki didn't see her as an undesirable woman. He recognized her for who she was—a woman capable of capturing a younger man's attention. And that, more than anything, filled her with satisfaction.
She knew that a man like Haruki was a beast at heart. If the opportunity arose, she was certain he would claim her as he pleased, spreading her legs and taking her in a way that would leave her breathless. The thought sent a thrill through her. She imagined his hands gripping her firmly, his body moving against hers, but for now, she wouldn't show it.
No, for now, she would play her cards close to her chest. The moment was delicate, a game she intended to master. With each interaction, the tension would grow, and she would remain the alluring woman who held just enough mystery to keep him guessing. She would tease and tantalize, allowing her confidence to blossom while keeping the true depth of her desires hidden.
There would be a time for passion and lust; for now, she would enjoy the anticipation, savoring how she had turned the tables. Kyouko was in control, and she planned to keep it that way until the moment was just right.
( End of Chapter )