The apartment was silent, bathed in the dim glow of the streetlamp outside. At exactly 1 a.m., the front door clicked open with the faintest sound.
Yuko stepped inside, her slim figure outlined against the night. With a tired sigh, she set her bag down by the shoe rack and carefully slipped off her heels, letting her toes breathe after a long day. The wooden floor creaked softly under her steps as she walked past the living room, making sure not to disturb the stillness.
Her gaze lingered a moment on the sliding door to Takumi's room. She slid it open just enough to peek inside. There he was, lying on his futon, his breathing calm and steady. Satisfied, she slid the door closed again, the sound barely audible.
Yuko entered her own room. The faint moonlight filtering through the window caught the movement of her hands as she undid the buttons of her blouse one by one. The fabric slipped off her shoulders, revealing the smooth line of her collarbone and the gentle curve of her figure. She unclasped her skirt next, the zipper sliding down in a quiet hiss, before it fell lightly to the floor. Her stockings, damp from the day's humidity, clung to her thighs before she rolled them off slowly, baring her legs. Finally, she unhooked her bra and slid down her last layer, leaving a faint warmth in the air of the dimly lit room.
She gathered her clothes into a small pile, her movements graceful but tired, and padded softly into the bathroom.
The light flicked on, and a faint cloud of steam began to rise as she turned the shower handle. Droplets cascaded down her skin, trailing from her shoulders to her back, gliding over her curves before slipping down to her legs. Yuko tilted her head back beneath the warm stream, strands of her hair clinging to her cheeks, her eyes closing in relief.
She reached for the body soap, lathering it between her palms until it foamed, then smoothed it across her skin—over her arms, her chest, and her stomach—slow, deliberate motions, washing away the exhaustion of the day. The steam fogged the mirror as the scent of soap filled the small bathroom, her silhouette blurred in the mist.
For a moment, there was only the rhythm of water splashing against tile and the soft sound of her breath as the night wore on.
Steam trailed after Yuko as she stepped out of the bath, droplets clinging to her skin. She reached for a towel and began drying herself slowly, watching her reflection in the fogged bathroom mirror. Her curves glistened under the dim light, her figure toned yet soft in all the right places. She tilted her head slightly, studying herself with a quiet, private pride.
You did it, Yuko… she thought, her lips curving faintly as she patted the towel down her thighs and over the swell of her hips. Curvy, slick… finally a body worth showing off.
Letting the towel slip around her shoulders, Yuko walked out completely bare, the cool air of the apartment brushing against her damp skin. She padded toward the small kitchen, the floorboards creaking softly under each step.
Opening the refrigerator, she bent slightly, the cold air spilling out over her body, and pulled a silver can of beer from the shelf. With a crisp crack, she popped it open and brought it to her lips, tilting her head back as she chugged deeply. Foam spilled faintly down her chin, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand, sighing in satisfaction as the bitter taste cooled her throat.
Then her phone buzzed against the counter. She picked it up without hesitation.
"Hello."
A familiar voice answered on the other side.
"Yeah, I just reached home," Yuko said, shifting the can into her other hand. "Thank you for your help."
She listened for a moment, nodding faintly though no one could see. "Yeah… no problem about it. Mm. It was a long day. They took me around to meet lots of people." Her voice lowered, husky from the beer. "Then we had a lingerie shoot… after that, a private pool session. Bikini shots. And the last one… nude."
Her fingers tapped the aluminum can, eyes drifting toward the closed door of Takumi's room. Her lips curved faintly. "Don't worry. He's an oblivious kid. He won't dig into it."
There was a pause, the voice on the line replying, and Yuko answered smoothly. "Yeah, tomorrow night we'll reach Tokyo. No problem. I'll call you as soon as I get there."
She leaned against the counter, finishing the rest of her beer in one long pull.
"Okay… good night."
The line clicked off. The apartment fell back into silence, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant breathing of the boy sleeping in the next room.
The soft chirping of sparrows filtered in through the thin paper walls of the apartment. At 7 a.m., the sliding door to Takumi's room creaked open.
"Wake up, Takumi," Yuko's voice rang out, light yet commanding. She crossed the tatami floor in her silky Japanese night robe, the fabric clinging faintly to her damp skin. With a practiced flick, she drew the curtains open, letting the morning sun spill across the futon where her son lay.
"Come on," she said cheerfully, tugging the window open for fresh air. "It's a big day today. Get ready—we have to go to your grandparents'. Let's hurry."
Takumi stirred, rubbing his eyes. His voice was still hoarse with sleep. "Mom… when did you come back last night?"
Yuko turned, her expression calm, her robe shifting slightly at her shoulder as she tightened the sash. "What do you mean 'last night'? As usual—around eleven."
"Hmm…" Takumi muttered, sitting up slowly. He didn't press further.
"Good. Now, I'm taking a shower," Yuko continued briskly, already heading toward the bathroom. The faint swish of her robe revealed the smooth line of her legs as she stepped away. "Takumi, brush your teeth—and make us some omelettes."
"Yeah, yeah," he replied, stretching before pulling himself to his feet.
Yawning, he shuffled toward the kitchen. But as he passed Yuko's room, something caught his eye. The door of her wardrobe had been left slightly ajar, one section gaping wide.
Inside, hanging neatly, was a collection he had never noticed before. Laced thongs in bright colors, delicate bras with intricate patterns, satin nightgowns, sheer babydolls, and bikinis that barely looked like they covered anything at all. Expensive fabrics gleamed faintly in the light seeping through the curtains.
Takumi froze for a moment, staring blankly. His lips pressed into a thin line, and a single thought brushed through his mind.
Mom really changed, huh…
He turned away, shaking his head as though to brush it off, and headed into the kitchen to crack eggs into the pan.
In the kitchen, he set the pan on the stove and cracked a couple of eggs, the shells making soft clicks against the counter. He whisked them lazily, his mind not fully on the motion. The butter began to sizzle as he poured the mixture in, the aroma of cooking eggs filling the small apartment.
But his thoughts kept circling back.
Those clothes… lingerie, bikinis, things I've never even seen in this house before. He flipped the omelette, the edges browning slightly. It's not like Mom ever cared about that stuff before. She used to be so plain…
He pressed the spatula down, watching the steam rise. Gym, diet, late nights… and now that wardrobe. She's… someone different now.
Takumi sighed, sliding the omelette onto a plate. He shook his head again, almost irritated at himself. Whatever. If she's happy, that's what matters. Not my business.
Still, the image of the glossy fabrics and delicate lace lingered stubbornly in his mind, even as he reached for another egg.