Novel Full Chapter 239 - 27
Chapter 239: Chapter 27
The next day arrived with a gentle, golden warmth.
The morning sun filtered through the high-end crystalline windows of the Sunrise Hotel penthouse, casting long, soft shadows over the sprawling suite.
Touka opened her eyes slowly, the initial fog of sleep clearing to reveal a sight that made her heart skip a beat.
She found herself naked, lying on top of Seijirou, who was sleeping soundly beneath her, her skin felt sensitive against his, the warmth of his body radiating a sense of absolute security.
The scent of him, something clean, masculine, and inherently calming, surrounded her like a cocoon.
She blushed fiercely, the memories of the previous night flooding back in a vivid, high-definition montage of sensation and sound.
She remembered the way his eyes looked in the moonlight, the desperate strength in his hands, and the tender whispers that had finally silenced the echoes of that ghost in her mind.
She observed him, smiling softly.
She didn’t try to move, nor did she make a single sound. She just wanted to savor this moment, this strange and beautiful “after” that she had dreamed of but never truly expected to reach.
She didn’t know how much time had passed as she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, but she couldn’t look away.
It felt as if a thousand butterflies were taking flight in her stomach, a nervous, electric joy that made her fingers tingle.
She wondered, quite logically as she always did, if this was what Suzune and the others felt when they did it for the first time.
According to her research, and Touka was nothing if not thorough, it was supposed to hurt a lot during the first experience.
Medical journals and forums often spoke of discomfort and the awkwardness of the initial act.
But for her, aside from that momentary, sharp sting when her hymen was torn, her first experience had been overwhelmingly pleasurable.
It was as if she had been lifted off the earth and placed on cloud nine, her senses heightened until the entire world was just Seijirou and the rhythm of their hearts.
Just then, she felt her stomach rumble—a loud, unrefined sound that echoed in the quiet room, snapping her out of her poetic thoughts.
She looked around the dimly lit room and found a sleek digital clock on a mahogany desk at the side.
Her eyes widened. It was already 8 AM. Although for others it was still early, for Touka, it was already way too late!
There had never been a day in her life that she had woken up this late; her internal clock was usually set to 5:30 AM sharp for morning reviews.
“Oh no,” she whispered.
She slowly began to get up, trying to be as stealthy as a cat so as not to wake him.
However, the moment she shifted her weight and stood up on the plush carpet, a sharp, localized pain immediately shot up from her groin.
She couldn’t help but hiss through her teeth, her legs feeling oddly wobbly.
She looked down, wanting to rub the area to soothe the ache, but she decided against it, thinking that she might accidentally hurt herself more or cause further inflammation.
She sighed, a small pout forming on her lips as she hoped that this was just a one-time thing—a “breaking-in” period for her body—and that it wouldn’t hurt this bad if they decided to do it again next time.
She looked around the room, which was strewn with the discarded remnants of their passion as she searched for her clothes that Seijirou had thrown away in his haste last night and quickly put them back on, the fabric feeling coarse against her sensitized skin.
She looked back at Seijirou, who was still sprawled out across the pillows, looking devastatingly handsome even in sleep.
Then, her eyes drifted to the sheets. She noticed a distinct, small patch of red on the white silk and blushed so hard it felt like her face was on fire.
She panicked, thinking that she had to wash that later, or else Aunt Hakari would surely find out what had transpired in the guest room.
She gave Seijirou one last, lingering look, her heart swelling with affection, before walking out of the room, her mind was already shifting back into its “useful” mode; she was thinking of what to cook for Seijirou to show her gratitude.
She went to the kitchen almost in a daze, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of tax codes and romantic memories.
She was so lost in her own head that she was completely unaware that Hakari was already there.
The Kageyama matriarch was standing by the high-tech island, quietly brewing a pot of expensive coffee.
Touka stood in front of the faucet, turning the water on and staring at it, deep in thought.
“You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
The voice was cool, level, and entirely too close.
“Ah, sore. But nothing I can’t handle,” Touka answered automatically, her brain still on autopilot.
Hakari nodded, taking a slow sip of her freshly brewed coffee. “Figures. When I returned last night, you two were still going at it quite vigorously.”
“Yes. Seijirou-kun is like a beast,” Touka agreed, still staring at the water. “I wonder how Suzune-chan and the others han—”
She froze.
The words hung in the air, cold and undeniable.
Touka snapped out of her thoughts and slowly, with the dread of a condemned woman, turned her head to the side.
There stood Kageyama Hakari.
She was dressed in a breathtakingly provocative, see-through white nightgown that left very little to the imagination, showing off her sexy black lingerie.
She looked like a goddess of the night, holding a delicate porcelain cup.
Touka blinked. Once. Twice. Then, her face turned as red as a sun-ripened tomato.
“A-A-A-Aunt Hakari!?” she shrieked, her voice cracking.
Hakari raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow, her expression one of amused indifference. “Good morning to you too, Touka.”
“A-Aunt, since when… since when did you return?!” Touka stammered, covering her chest with her hands as if she were still naked.
“Last night,” Hakari replied simply, leaning against the counter. “You probably didn’t know because you were quite preoccupied. You two were like rabbits in heat when I walked past the hall. I had to turn up the television in my room just to get some peace.”
“Fueeh!?” Touka let out a strangled sound and almost collapsed on the spot.
She felt like the floor should open up and swallow her whole. The “Number One Candidate” for a wife had just been caught being “a rabbit in heat” by the mother-in-law.
Hakari stared at her for a moment, then let out a small, dry chuckle. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Fujiwara Touka. I’m used to this. My son is… a Kageyama, after all. Itoshi Emi and Watanabe Yukina would sometimes stay here back then, and the sounds were much the same. I’m quite used to my son’s lust. It’s a sign of health, if nothing else.”
Just then, the bedroom door opened, and Seijirou walked out. He was wearing only a pair of black boxers, his hair a mess, rubbing his eyes while let out a massive yawn.
He looked entirely unbothered by the world.
“Good morning,” he said between yawns, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep, but he stopped when he saw his mother. “Mom, when did you come back?”
“Last night,” Hakari replied, not missing a beat.
Seijirou nodded, accepting this as a normal part of life. Then, he turned his gaze toward Touka, who was currently curled into a ball on the kitchen floor, covering her face in absolute, terminal embarrassment.
“What happened to her?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Embarrassed, probably,” Hakari replied, checking her watch. “Anyway. Prepare the breakfast. I have a meeting later at 10 AM, and I need to be fueled for the …talk.”
With that, she turned and walked toward the living room with regal grace as she sat down on the leather sofa, crossed her long, stocking-clad legs, and began scrolling through her phone, presumably checking the morning market fluctuations…or just watching some short videos of a hydraulic press crushing things.
That’s her hobby, after all.
“Oh,” Seijirou nodded, looking at Touka’s trembling form and the way she was clutching her legs and couldn’t help but smile as he walked over and patted her head. “I don’t think Touka can cook right now, Mom. Her ’gears’ are a bit jammed. I should probably just call the room service and order the grand breakfast platter.”
Touka let out another “Fueeh!” from under her hands, her world officially ending for the tenth time that morning.
*
*
*
On another side of the city, tucked away in a room that felt like a fortress of digital insulation, Itoshi Emi sat in her dark room.
The space was a cavern of shadows, lit up only by the cold, flickering luminescence of her three monitors as she sat on a high-end gaming chair.
The glow reflected off her face, casting a pale, bluish light over her features while the rest of the world outside was just beginning to wake.
She stretched her arms upwards, her spine popping in a satisfying sequence, letting out a long, satisfied moan that broke the hum of the cooling fans.
The tension of a long night’s grind was finally leaving her muscles.
She looked at the time on the corner of her primary screen and let out a heavy yawn.
“It’s already morning,” she whispered to the empty room. “I should probably get some sleep before the sun gets too high.”
At that moment, the quiet was interrupted by a sharp *ping*.
A notification window slid into the corner of her center monitor, and her brows furrowed in immediate annoyance, her eyes narrowing as she stared at the flashing icon.
She clicked it open with a practiced, weary flick of her mouse, and as expected, it was from the same person who keeps sending her disgusting words.
The sender’s handle was a string of random characters, but the content was unmistakably the same obsessive, parasitic drivel she had been receiving for months.
*I saw you through the screen today, Emi. I know you can’t see me, but I’m always right there, watching the way you bite your lip when you’re focused. It makes me want to reach through the pixels and touch you.*
*Did you like the flowers I left near your trash bin? I saw you walk past them without looking. You shouldn’t be so cold to someone who loves you more than life itself. I know what you look like when you’re sleeping, Emi. You look so much more obedient when you aren’t talking.*
*I can smell the scent of your shampoo from the hallway when you leave for the store. I waited until you were gone and stood by your door just to breathe it in. Soon, I won’t have to wait outside anymore. I’m going to find a way inside, and then we can be together forever, whether you want to or not. I’ll make sure you never have to look at another man again.*
*Why do you keep hanging around that Kageyama brat? He doesn’t know you like I do. He hasn’t tasted your hair. He hasn’t watched you through the vents. You’re mine, Emi. Every inch of your skin belongs to my eyes.*
Emi’s skin crawled, a cold shiver of pure revulsion racing down her spine.
The words felt like slime, sticking to her thoughts as she immediately deleted the messages with a sharp, aggressive click and logged out of all her accounts in rapid succession.
She didn’t even bother blocking the person anymore; she had tried that dozens of times, and they would just create another account within minutes, a digital hydra that refused to die.
She had long since suspected that it was her crush back in middle school—a boy who had once been her bully, letting her wait on a cold bench for hours while they record her and making bets on when she’d leave.
“Tsk. How annoying,” she muttered, her voice laced with a mixture of anger and exhaustion.
She stood up from her chair, the wheels creaking against the floor, and ignored the lingering blue glow of the monitors as she walked the two steps to her bed.
She dropped down onto the mattress, burying her face in the pillow to blot out the morning light peeking through the curtains.
She’d talk with Seijirou about this later; if anyone could find the rat behind the screen and crush them, it was him.
But for now, her brain was too foggy to plan a counter-strike.
She needed to rest.
She closed her eyes, trying to drown out the memory of the words and the feeling of being watched from the dark corners of her own life.
Was she worried? Not really.
She’s a Karyoku user, what’s there for her to worry about?