"Tadaima."
Kasumigaoka Touji called out softly as he pushed open the front door of the apartment, stepping back into the familiar, slightly dim genkan. The customary 'I'm home' was met with silence.
"Not here…?"
He glanced at the shoe cabinet. His indoor slippers were neatly placed on top, exactly as he'd left them. However, a particular pair of stylish, petite leather shoes was conspicuously absent.
Shrugging, he stepped into the living room and set down the bags he was carrying—one containing the few plush toys he'd kept, another with some sundry purchases from the way home. He then made a quick trip to the bathroom, depositing yesterday's worn underwear and socks into the laundry basket. That done, he pulled out his phone.
[Touji]: "I'm home. Are you out?"
He hit send and headed towards the kitchen, contemplating a snack. Before he'd even reached the refrigerator, his phone buzzed with a reply.
[Kasumi Utako]: "Eating udon."Accompanying the text was a photo—a steaming bowl of udon noodles, half-eaten, sitting on a simple wooden counter.
[Touji]: "The shop next to the bookstore?"[Touji]: "Are you heading back after? Mind bringing me a bowl?"Cooking for himself felt like an unnecessary chore after the whirlwind of the past 24 hours. A little laziness was justified.
[Kasumi Utako]: "Okay. Which kind?"[Touji]: "Beef udon. And a side of fried shrimp tempura, =￣ω￣=."He stated his order clearly.
The reply was a simple 'OK' sticker. Mission accomplished.
Roughly ten minutes later—
"Tadaima."
The sound of the door unlocking and opening was followed by a voice that carried a familiar, languid elegance.
Kasumigaoka Touji, who had been sprawled on the living room sofa scrolling through news and comments about their YouTube channel, sprang up like a carp leaping from water to greet her.
"Okaeri. Welcome back."
"And then…?"
The literary beauty standing in the genkan looked up at him, one eyebrow slightly arched. She was dressed in a soft, light-colored spring dress, a white fabric headband holding her dark hair back from her flawless face. In her hands, she carried two takeaway bags.
Her movements were graceful as she slipped her feet—adorably small, sheathed in sheer black stockings that hinted at the soft flesh beneath—out of her orange leather flats and into a pair of waiting indoor slippers.
"What 'and then'?" Kasumigaoka Touji extended a hand, gesturing for the bag containing his lunch, a look of genuine puzzlement on his face.
Kasumigaoka Utaha let out a soft, theatrical sigh.
"Nii-san is so… unromantic." She pouted. "Shouldn't you first drop to your knees in a dogeza and beg to peek under my skirt? Or at least say something like, 'I want to eat you before I eat dinner'?"
With that, she handed over the bag containing his udon.
"..."
"Hai, hai! Then, I'll eat you first before I eat dinner!" Kasumigaoka Touji played along, accepting the bag with a grin. It was all in good fun, of course.
However, the woman before him instantly turned cold. Her beautiful face frosted over, and she looked at him with eyes as sharp and icy as shards of winter. "A man who's been fooling around outside for a whole day and night… don't you dare touch me!"
She demonstrated perfectly what it meant to switch from playful to hostile faster than flipping a page in one of her light novels.
Kasumigaoka Touji: "..."
He was momentarily stunned into silence.
Then, he watched as a dangerous, almost predatory smile curled her lips. She reached into the other bag she was holding and pulled out… a brand new, gleaming steel wool scouring pad.
"Nii-san," she purred, her voice sugary sweet yet laced with venom, "after you finish your dinner… let me scrub you nice and clean with this."
"What kind of 'rich wife's happy ball' is that?!" Kasumigaoka Touji's mouth twitched uncontrollably. He couldn't help but take a reflexive step backward, looking at the steel wool and then at Kasumigaoka Utaha's serene expression with utter disbelief.
"Are you sure you want to 'scrub me clean' and not 'scrub me to death'?"
Playing this perversely… I'm sorry, but I must refuse!
"Of course not," she said, taking a deliberate step forward, her wine-red eyes sweeping down to a very specific area of his anatomy. "How could I possibly bear to scrub Nii-san to death?"
Can't handle this, can't handle this at all!
Kasumigaoka Touji wisely decided a tactical retreat was in order. He turned on his heel and made a beeline for the dining table in the living room.
He began unpacking the meal boxes from the bag: one contained the rich, dark broth, another the white, springy udon noodles and slices of tender beef, and a separate box held the golden-brown, crispy fried shrimp tempura.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kasumigaoka Utaha had followed him, the steel wool ball still held casually in her hand. She came to a stop beside him, her gaze once again zeroing in on that certain spot with unnerving intensity.
Kasumigaoka Touji's eyebrow twitched. "Staring like that is going too far, you know. I might have to retaliate."
"I can be much more excessive than this," she retorted airily, tossing the steel wool ball lightly in her palm.
"Alright, fine! You asked for it!"
Kasumigaoka Touji planted his hands on the table and pushed himself up, making a sudden, mock-lunging motion towards her. Kasumigaoka Utaha let out a small, surprised squeak and immediately scampered away, disappearing around the corner into the hallway, leaving behind only the faint, lingering scent of her perfume.
"If you're so brave, don't run! Show me just how 'excessive' you can be!" he called after her.
Her voice floated back from a safe distance. "If you're so brave, let me give you a good scrubbing!"
"Sorry! I have exactly zero bravery when it comes to that!" he shouted back.
"Nii-san is so useless!" she taunted, her voice laced with playful disdain. He could practically picture her hugging her ample chest and sticking out her tongue.
"..."
My blood pressure… it's rising!
Kasumigaoka Touji genuinely wanted to chase her down and administer some severe, physical 'punishment.' However, a glance at the udon noodles, which were slowly absorbing the broth, reminded him of his priorities. If he left them too long, they'd turn into a soggy, unappetizing mess.
Fine. Food first.
Just you wait, you detestable, devilish Kasumigaoka Utaha!
Your reckoning will come later!
"..."
Seeing Kasumigaoka Touji sit back down at the table with his back to her, seemingly focused on his meal, Kasumigaoka Utaha, who had been peeking from around the corner, couldn't resist.
She was feeling… lonely. They hadn't seen each other for almost a full twenty-four hours. She'd spent last night alone in this too-quiet apartment. She couldn't help but crave a bit of… intimacy (crossed out)… she couldn't help but want to tease him a little more.
Moving with the silent, careful steps of a stalking cat, she began tiptoeing closer, intending to surprise him.
But before she could even get within arm's reach, something bizarre happened.
Her feet—her perfectly fine, stocking-clad feet—suddenly felt as if they'd sunk into thick, clinging mud. She couldn't lift them. She couldn't move forward or backward.
"Eh? Eh…? Ehhhh…?"
What was going on?
What was happening?
Kasumigaoka Utaha, who had never experienced anything like this in her life, looked down at her own legs—those long, shapely legs wrapped in sheer black—with a dawning sense of panic. Why couldn't she move them?
It was incomprehensible! She could still feel them perfectly. There was no numbness, no pain. Everything seemed normal… except her legs were rooted to the spot as if by magic. She didn't lose her balance and fall; she just… couldn't move.
"Nii-san…?"
She looked up, her panicked gaze finding Kasumigaoka Touji. He had turned in his chair, one arm resting casually on the back, and was looking at her with a slowly spreading, utterly smug smile.
She froze for a second, her brilliant mind connecting the dots in an instant. Her expression shifted from panic to wide-eyed astonishment.
"You did this!?"
"I have no idea what Onee-san is talking about," Kasumigaoka Touji said, spreading his hands in a picture of innocence.
"It was you! It had to be you!" Now that she'd pinpointed the source, her panic evaporated, replaced by indignant outrage. She gritted her pearly white teeth, glaring at him. A part of her mind was still reeling, trying to process the how. It felt utterly unscientific, completely unreasonable!
Kasumigaoka Touji stood up, strolled over to her, and gave her backside a light, deliberately provocative kick. He leaned in, his voice a teasing murmur. "So what if it was me? Go on then. Show me. I'm waiting to see just how 'excessive' you can be now."
"Kuh…!" Kasumigaoka Utaha twisted her upper body, trying to reach out and grab him, to pinch him, to get her revenge. But as soon as she tried, her arms felt the same strange, invisible restraint. They were pinned gently but firmly to her sides.
Kasumigaoka Touji concentrated. His mind flexed, the newly acquired power of [Basic Telekinesis] flowing with surprising ease. Kasumigaoka Utaha, whose body was now completely under his mental control, felt her feet leave the floor.
"Wha—!?" Her eyes went wide as saucers as she looked down, seeing the ground recede. She was floating! Like a disobedient balloon, she drifted gently through the air.
With a thought, Kasumigaoka Touji guided her back to the dining table. He maneuvered her until she was sitting sideways on his lap, then carefully released the telekinetic hold, letting her settle naturally into his embrace. One arm wrapped securely around her waist, he picked up his chopsticks with his free hand.
"Now then," he said, his voice cheerful as he dipped a piece of tempura into the broth, "where were we? Ah, yes. Dinner."
He took a bite, then offered the next piece to the utterly flabbergasted, beautifully captive literary girl in his arms. "And you, Onee-san, are going to keep me company."