In my dream, I was eating pizza. The Pizza-La one. I thought I heard the door close. Was it part of the dream? Was it real? I wasn't sure.
I asked myself that question, still asleep.
Then I heard footsteps. Much more clearly. Getting closer.
Footsteps? Whose? The delivery man?
I opened my eyes.
Their mother stood in the doorway.
Oh fuck…
Aya lifted her head off my shoulder.
She saw her mother and smiled. As if she'd been waiting for exactly this moment.
"Welcome back," she said quietly. Calm. Pleasant. Like everything was completely normal.
Nakamura-san was still in the doorway, frozen.
I watched her process the scene. Her eyes scanned the room. The wedding backdrop. The white sheets. Then her daughters. In bridal lingerie.
And me.
In her bed. With them.
Her face went pale.
Then red.
"What—" she started. She gulped, like she swallowed a fly.
She stared at me.
We'd met before. A couple of brief, polite introductions when I'd pick up Aya.
But I could tell exactly what she was thinking at the moment.
Me—in her bed, like this, with both her daughters, naked, in front of her—it was a disgrace of the highest order.
It violated every rule, every norm. Even in the most modern and liberal Japanese family.
And she's not liberal.
Nakamura-san's mouth opened. Closed.
"Get out," she finally managed. Looking at me. "Get out of my house! NOW!"
Aya pressed on my arm. Don't you move.
"He's not going anywhere," she said. She sat up. Her cum-stained lingerie on full display. "None of us are."
"Aya, what is—" Her mother's eyes landed on Hina. "And your sister?! HINA?"
Hina was just waking up. She quickly pulled the blanket over her head. Small. Scared.
"Yes," Aya said. She stretched. Deliberately casual. "Could you keep it down? We had a wonderful night. We're both still pumped full of his cum. Twice. Want to see?"
She spread her legs.
"STOP!" their mother shrieked. "Stop this! This is— this is disgusting! This is—"
"Disgusting?" Aya's voice turned sharp. Ice cold. "Really, Mom?"
She got out of bed. Standing in front of her mom in her bridal lingerie. Fearless.
"You mean as disgusting as what you used to do?" Aya asked.
Nakamura-san blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"The box," Aya said simply.
SLAP!
Silence.
There was complete silence in the room.
The color drained from Nakamura-san's face.
"I found it when I was setting this up," Aya continued. "In your closet. Top shelf."
"How dare you? You went through my things?" Mom's voice dropped to a loud whisper.
"I did," Aya said. "And imagine my surprise. The magazines. The toys. The photos."
She let that sink in.
"Yes, especially the photos," Aya added. "Was that what you meant by disgusting? The cock in your mouth? Or the cum on your face? With that cute V-sign? Which one is more disgusting, Mom?"
Nakamura-san legs shook. She grabbed onto the doorframe for balance.
Hina's face appeared from under the blanket. "What photos?"
Aya ignored her. She took a step toward their mother.
"All these years, you—" Aya's voice started to shake slightly. Rage growing. "You made me kneel in that corner. You told me I was a disgrace. That I should be ashamed of myself. Do you remember?"
Her fingers curled into tight fists. "And turns out? You were the biggest slut in the family."
"How dare you—" Nakamura-san protested, gasping.
"How dare I?" Aya laughed. Harsh. "How dare YOU. You're a hypocrite. A liar!"
Nakamura-san kept gasping for air. Her eyes bulged.
"Where is it?" she stammered finally. "Where's the box?"
Aya put her hands on her hips. "With me," she said. "For safekeeping."
"Give it back—"
"No!" Aya cut her off. So loud that I flinched. "You have no say in it anymore. I'll keep it. And from now on you will do what I tell you."
Her mother's hands were shaking. "What do you want?"
"I want you to sit down," Aya said. "And listen."
For a moment, I thought Nakamura-san would refuse. She pulled herself together and glanced toward the hallway.
But then something changed. She lowered her eyes and sighed. She sat on the chair across from the bed.
Defeated.
"At least we're not as stupid as you were," Aya said. "We've not just been having sex. We've also made money. Lots of money."
Nakamura-san looked up. Shocked again. As shocked as when she first saw us in one bed. "Money? How?"
"I thought I told you to listen," Aya snapped. She walked to the dresser and grabbed a folder.
When did the folder get there? Did Aya prepare it in advance?
"We're moving to Tokyo," Aya said, handing the folder to her mother. "If you want to ask me any questions, or if you want us to ever speak with you again—sign these first."
"What is this?" their mother asked.
"Papers," Aya said simply. "For you to sign."
Nakamura-san opened the folder and started reading.
I watched her face change. Confusion. Disbelief. Horror.
"You can't be serious," she muttered.
"Completely serious," Aya said.
I felt Hina's hand on my arm. "What photos?" she asked again.
"Tell you later, sis," Aya said, glancing at the two of us.
"But this says—" their mother looked up.
"It says what it says," Aya summed up coldly. "Non-disclosure. Non-interference. Participation. You sign it—you stay in the family."
"But this is insane!" their mother exclaimed.
"No, this is fair," Aya corrected her. "You made my life hell for years. Now you will right your wrongs. And keep your mouth shut."
"What if I don't?"
"Well, then we won't give you a yen." Aya shrugged. "And I'll make good use of those photos."
Nakamura-san's hands were shaking so hard the papers rattled.
"You wouldn't."
"Try me," Aya said.
I felt Hina's hand gripping me tight.
She was terrified.
I took her freezing fingers in my hands. Trying to calm her.
Their mother looked at the papers. Frazzled. Confused.
She didn't read them. She just stared at them, as if hoping that would change the writing.
Finally, she picked up the pen. Her hand jerked over the signature line.
"My own daughter," she whispered. "How could you—"
"You made me this way," Aya said, taking the papers. "Remember?"
She checked the signature and nodded.
"Good." She walked to the door. "Come with me. I'll pour you some rare sake. You look like you need it."