A Love I Shouldn't Feel-Chapter 75: Home’s Hidden Tears ( )

The screen door at the back slid open with a soft creak.

Takahashi Kiyotaka stepped inside.

He moved with calm, silent, heavy steps.

At the sink, he washed his hands slowly.

Without a word, he reached for a glass from the cabinet, filled it with cool barley tea, and took a slow sip.

Then...

He walked through the narrow hall toward the living room.

Kyouko sat up a little straighter the moment she heard his footsteps.

When Kiyotaka entered, he stopped just at the edge of the tatami.

His eyes fell on her.

Kyouko held her breath.

Her mother gave her a quick glance, then smiled gently and stood up.

"I’ll go check the laundry."

She left through the side corridor, her soft slippers whispering on the floorboards.

Kiyotaka stepped further in, sat down carefully on the zabuton across from Kyouko, then—

Gestured.

A simple, slow motion of his hand.

Kneel.

No words.

Just that.

Kyouko moved immediately, her knees folding beneath her as she sat seiza-style, her hands resting lightly on her lap.

Outside the living room window, Kenji peered through the glass for just a second—

and chuckled.

"Heh... she’s still getting scolded like a kid."

He wandered off toward the tool shed, grinning to himself.

Inside, the silence between father and daughter stretched.

Kyouko remained kneeling, her back straight, her hands folded neatly on her lap.

"Kyouko."

His voice was low.

Heavy.

"Umm..."

She looked up, her eyes uncertain.

"Why didn’t you call!?"

"Did you forget us!?

Did you forget your home!?"

Kyouko opened her lips to respond, but he continued.

"We understood when Satomi was still small.

We told ourselves: ’She’s busy. Raising a child. Managing a household.’

"But now? That girl must be in her twenties!

And we haven’t seen her face, not once.

No photo, no phone call, no visit."

"I wonder.." he muttered

"If becoming a city woman made you forget where you come from."

Kyouko bit her lip.

She hadn’t expected it to sting like this.

"I’m... sorry, Father."

She bowed deeply, her voice quiet, but trembling. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

"Even during New Year’s, we waited.

During Obon, we waited.

But no call. No visit. Not even a letter!"

Kiyotaka’s voice rolled on like thunder.

Kyouko remained kneeling, bowed low, biting her lip as her father’s disappointment washed over her again and again.

From outside, in the hallway near the open window, Kenji leaned against the wall, grinning ear to ear.

"Haha... she might be a older sister, but look at her..still gets scolded like a little girl."

Kyouko’s mother, folding some hand towels nearby, chuckled softly.

"Hmph. That’s what happens when you disappear for years and forget to call your old parents."

Kenji snorted.

"She’s the ’elegant big sister’ to the outside world... but back here?

Still the same crybaby who ran home when she dropped her lunch."

They both laughed gently, shaking their heads.

Back in the living room, Kyouko remained in formal seiza posture, still bowed.

"...I’m sorry, Father."

"Don’t just say ’sorry’ like it’s nothing!" Kiyotaka snapped again.

The silence lingered in the room like a fading echo.

Kyouko remained kneeling, head lowered, hands trembling in her lap.

Her father’s stern gaze never left her.

Then...

A simple motion.

Kiyotaka raised his hand slowly.

Just a small gesture.

But Kyouko saw it.

And in that instant, her vision blurred.

"...Father..."

Her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes before she could stop them.

With a sudden rush, she crawled forward, abandoned all formality, and threw her arms around him.

Her face pressed into his chest.

"Father... I’m home."

Her voice was muffled, trembling.

Kiyotaka didn’t speak right away.

His hand hovered for a moment, then rested gently on the back of her head.

"...Welcome back, Kyouko."

Outside, Kenji quietly stepped away from the window.

And Kyouko’s mother wiped the corner of her eye, smiling softly.

After a long, quiet embrace, Kyouko pulled back, wiping the corner of her eyes. Her father cleared his throat and straightened his back, as if returning to his usual stoic self.

His expression returned to that familiar sternness.

"If you forget to call us again—" he grumbled.

"I... I won’t. I promise."

"Good."

He gave a small nod.

"Now... where’s your husband?"

Kyouko hesitated.

"He couldn’t come..."

"What about my granddaughter?"

"She’s busy... same as Satoshi."

A long, disappointed sigh escaped Kiyotaka.

"Busy, busy, busy..."

He shook his head slowly.

"Busy with what? Money? Work?

Even machines get a break."

Kyouko lowered her gaze.

She had no defense for that.

"Kyouko... no matter how much money you earn... no matter how high you climb... it will never be enough."

"Because if you don’t know what ’enough’ is, you’ll keep chasing more.

And while you chase it...you’ll leave behind the things that really matter."

"Satoshi should know this."

"Time won’t wait. Family won’t wait.

And when you finally look back...

you might find that the ones who waited for you...

are already gone."

Kyouko pressed her lips together.

"...I know."

Inside Kyouko mind.

I know, Father...

Kyouko lowered her gaze as his words echoed in her heart.

I understand more than you think.

Because I’m the one Satoshi will lose.

We may still be married, sharing the same roof, sharing the same name...

but my heart no longer waits for him.

My body no longer longs for his touch.

Not after all these years.

For over twenty years... I waited.

Lovingly.

Desperately.

I stayed faithful.

I waited..

Quietly, patiently.

I gave him everything.

My youth. My time.

My devotion.

I cared for my beauty.

I cared for my body.

I cared for our home.

All... for him.

But he never looked at me.

He only saw his work.

Only chased money.

Only sat in silence, eyes fixed on his tablet.

He never asked if I was okay.

If I was lonely.

If I was happy.

He didn’t eat the meals I cooked.

He didn’t hear the silence I carried.

He didn’t see the effort I gave...

because I was just his wife.

Or maybe just a maid—

to clean his house,

wash his laundry,

and smile like nothing was wrong.

But he never missed me.

"Kyouko?"

"Hmm?"

Kiyotaka studied his daughter’s face.

There was something in her smile that didn’t sit right with him.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

She tilted her head slightly.

The same soft, serene expression still resting on her lips.

"Of course I’m smiling. I got to hug you, be home again, see everyone."

She looked toward the hallway.

"Where’s Keiko?"

Kiyotaka let out a long sigh and leaned back.

"Haaa... who knows. But she lives nearby. She’ll drop in anytime."

"Who did she marry again?" Kyouko asked, curious.

Kiyotaka blinked.

"You don’t know?"

"How could I? You’re the one who said I never call."

Kiyotaka crossed his arms.

"Remember Kazuma? That quiet boy who always followed Keiko around? Always ran to grab her umbrella or her books when she called?"

Kyouko’s eyes widened.

"Her childhood friend? That Kazuma!?"

He gave a small nod.

"They’ve been married six or seven years now."

"That’s actually kind of sweet."

At that moment, their mother walked in with a tray, setting down the tea with gentle clinks.

"Sweet? Hmph. That girl of ours keeps nagging him from sunrise to sunset."

"Poor Kazuma. Still shy as ever, but he listens to her like a soldier."

Kiyotaka took a sip of tea.

"You’d think after all these years she’d calm down, but no, she scolds, she nags, and he still follows her like a puppy."

Kyouko couldn’t help but laugh—genuinely this time.

"Sounds like she got herself a good one, then."

"Good or hopeless, that’s another matter." Kiyotaka muttered.

( End Of Chapter )