It was a sunny Sunday morning at the Kokonoe residence. The girls were still asleep, and I was stretched out on the living room couch, half-watching whatever was playing on TV.
Then a phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Mom's.
"Mom, someone's calling," I yelled, climbing the stairs with the phone in hand.
I swear, she's just like Grams. Back in my past life, my grandma would leave her phone anywhere in that cramped four-room flat in Brașov—like, she'd be in her bedroom and the damn thing would be in the kitchen.
Didn't think my new mom would pull the same stunt, but I guess some habits transcend dimensions. The cosmic irony almost made me smile.
A faint warmth spread in my chest despite it all.
I pushed open the door to her room, and...
WOAH.
She was standing there in her underwear. A cream bra straining to contain her impressive chest, matching panties with delicate lace trim along the edges.
She froze the instant she saw me.
"Kyaa!" She jumped slightly, hands flying to cover herself, before she grabbed a towel and clumsily put it on.
"Sorry, didn't mean to barge in," I said quickly, holding out the phone. "You left this in the kitchen."
I was glued to the spot, though. Gotta admit—Kokonoe Chisato is an attractive woman.
But she's my mom. Even if I'm more attached to the ghost of the old one.
Technically we're the same age—
No. Hard no.
For once, Mom let her guard slip—just a flicker of real surprise before composure kicked in.
"You can put it on the table," she said casually, a small sweatdrop visible.
Then, noticing I was still frozen, she glanced down at herself, back at me, and a half-irritated, half-playful grin crossed her lips.
She let the towel slip just a fraction—enough for a teasing glimpse of those cream panties beneath—before pulling it back with a soft laugh.
"Ara... Takkun's finally interested in girls? Too bad it's just your old mom, haha!"
Yeah. Nope. The brief stir below the belt died faster than a Satanist in a church.
"...Cream? Really, Mom? I did not need to know your laundry preferences," I deadpanned, face falling flat.
Mom clutched her towel tighter, but her eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Oh... So my son's a critic now? I thought I'd be the only woman you'd ever see in underwear like this, you know~"
Ouch. Direct hit.
As if to prove her point, she let the towel drop—enough for one last unapologetic glimpse—before stepping toward me. Her hand landed lightly on my shoulder, gently but firmly turning me around.
"You got your little peek, didn't you? Now be a good boy and scoot so Mom can finish changing"
I turned on my heel, muttering, "Let's pretend this never happened," as I fled the room.
Behind me, I could hear her giggling—absurdly, gleefully—at my expense.
Great. Just great.
_________________
[Later that day...]
The living room was quiet, evening light filtering through the curtains. Haruka and Suzuka were in the kitchen, their voices a soft murmur—something about dinner plans, punctuated by Haruka's dramatic laugh and Suzuka's gentle scolding.
I sat on the couch, scrolling my phone to distract myself from... everything. The looming threat of the Underworld still stung, but quieter thoughts had been creeping in since then.
Suzuka brought me back after I nearly died to Riser. So, yeah—I'm alive. That's enough. For now.
Mom walked in from the hallway, fresh from changing—pink sweater and jeans now, her black hair still a little damp. She sat down beside me with that nonchalant energy, grabbing the remote like nothing happened.
A beat of silence.
Then she glanced at me sideways, lips curving into that familiar mischievous grin.
"Ara~ Still thinking about Mom's underwear, Takkun?"
I froze, phone halfway to my face.
"...No comment."
She laughed softly, nudging my shoulder. "You were so red earlier, ufufu~. I thought you'd never recover."
Yikes. Mom, you're starting to sound way too much like Akeno!
I groaned, sinking lower into the couch. "We agreed to pretend it never happened."
"Did we?" She tilted her head, eyes sparkling. "I don't remember agreeing to anything."
From the kitchen, Haruka's voice floated in: "What's so funny in there?"
"Nothing!" I called back quickly.
Mom leaned in closer, voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Next time, I'll wear something flashier—just for you~"
My brain short-circuited.
"...Mom."
She burst out laughing, ruffling my hair like I was ten. "Your face! Priceless! Hehe~"
I rubbed my temples, muttering, "I hope your design sense gets better next time."
She paused, then grinned wider. "Oh? So you were paying attention to the design."
Kill me now.
"Well, I wouldn't mind seeing it, I guess..." I murmured, the words slipping out barely above a whisper before I could stop them.
Mom paused for a split second, then burst into laughter—warm, genuine, and utterly merciless—as she reached over and ruffled my hair like I was still a kid.
"If you're a good boy~"
From the kitchen, Suzuka peeked in, curious. "Everything okay?"
Mom winked at me. "Perfectly fine. Just embarrassing my son, as usual."
I sank deeper into the couch.
Fuck my life.