The first thing Ayaka felt when her eyes opened was the dull ache in her hips.
The futon beneath her was still a mess—twisted sheets and a damp towel half-draped across her naked stomach. Her robe hung carelessly from the dresser, and the faint scent of sweat and beer still lingered in the air.
Outside the shoji window, the orange hue of the sunset cut across the room.
Her mouth was dry. Her body was exhausted.
She heard it then—the high-pitched laughter of girls. Familiar. Comforting. Sakura and Hana.
She jolted upright.
"Six o'clock…?" she whispered, eyes darting to the wall clock.
She barely remembered falling asleep after Riku left. The house had been too quiet. She had showered, barely, then collapsed on the futon, her body sore from what could only be described as… dangerous levels of indulgence.
It wasn't just sex.
It was position after position, her body bent and tested in ways she'd only ever seen in those rented hotel-room JAV clips Riku played earlier. His voice echoed in her ears even now:
"Come on, Ayaka-chan. Let's try this one. You liked watching her scream like that, didn't you?"
"Bet Minato never even touched you like this, huh? That loser doesn't know what he's missing."
She had hated that. Every time he mocked Minato, she flinched. But not enough to stop. Never enough to stop.
Pulling on her robe, Ayaka tied it tightly at her waist and stepped into the hallway.
In the living room, the TV screen glowed bright. Mario Kart.
"Yessss! I beat you again!" Hana shouted.
"No fair! You pushed me off the track!" Sakura complained.
Ayaka stood at the corner of the doorway, watching silently.
They were in their pajamas, legs crossed on the floor, controllers in hand, snacks half-finished on the table.
They looked… untouched. Pure.
"Mama!" Hana turned and beamed. "Come join us for the next round!"
Sakura waved. "I made barley tea! It's in the fridge!"
Ayaka forced a smile and nodded. "I'll come in a bit."
She couldn't step closer.Not with the smell of Riku still on her, the raw memory of his hands still bruising her thighs, and his voice calling her "Ayaka-chan" in a way that felt filthy now that the rush had faded.
She walked to the entrance, wiped her face, and quietly changed into a simple navy skirt and a loose beige blouse.
She didn't bother with a bra.
Her chest still felt tender, the marks from Riku's touch faint but present. The fabric clung just enough to remind her of everything she wanted to forget.
Then she slid into her sandals and stepped out into the cooling evening air.
Kawagoe was quiet at sunset. The narrow residential roads glowed under the amber sky. Wind brushed against the rooftops. Somewhere, a bicycle bell rang.
Ayaka walked without a destination.
The guilt started pressing in like heat from the pavement.
"I had sex in the kitchen. On the family altar floor. In Minato's futon. In our bathroom."
She stopped near the park and sat on a bench, folding her arms tightly around her stomach.
"I cleaned up everything. Hid the wrappers. The tissues. Washed the towels. Lit incense at the altar. But I can't wash this off."
"I'm not a teenager. I'm thirty-four. I'm a mother. A wife. What the hell is wrong with me?"
Riku's laughter echoed in her mind.
"You love it. Admit it."
She did. And that terrified her more than anything.
"I'm not just cheating. I'm…" She couldn't even finish the thought.
"I need to stop this."
"I have to stop this."
"But… how?"
She returned home after thirty minutes. The lights were still on.
Through the window, she saw the girls now lying on the tatami, phones in hand, scrolling and giggling.
Minato would return by midnight. She still had to put dinner together.
Ayaka took a deep breath, wiped her face, and stepped inside.
As if everything were normal.