Haruki leaned back against the bench, eyes still fixed on the stars.
If only Kyouko were here.
If only she wasn’t so far away.
If by some miracle, she appeared here in Okinawa—on this very night—he wouldn’t let her say a word.
He would grab her hand, pull her into this house, shut the door behind them, and take her.
He wanted to hear her moan again—those soft, breathless sounds she made only for him.
To see her eyes roll back, to feel her nails digging into his skin.
To watch her back arch as her body gave in to him completely.
Her reactions... those were his addiction.
The way her face flushed.
The way she whimpered when his penis pushed too deep—stretching her pussy more than she could take.
The way her gasps melted into soft moans, her body twitching from sensitivity as her climax hit harder than she expected.
That moment—when she wrapped her arms around his neck, legs trembling, eyes glazed, and pulled him into a deep, desperate kiss—while her body shook through another wild orgasm.
The way she squirted uncontrollably, soaking them both, moaning his name like a broken prayer.
Only he had ever seen her like that.
Only he had touched that part of her.
Unleashed that version of Kyouko—quiet, gentle Kyouko—transformed into a woman undone by pleasure.
He missed her not just because she was beautiful.
He missed her because she belonged to him.
Body, soul, and everything in between.
Haruki sat there in the silence, the stars above flickering like quiet reminders of the distance between them.
But a new thought crept in. One he didn’t like.
What if... while I’m not there... some guy tries to seduce her?
What if some younger man with smooth words and cheap cologne saw her beauty—her grace—and tried to steal her heart?
No one else had the right to see her that way. To hear the soft sounds she made when touched right. To taste her coffee. To undress her body. To kiss those trembling lips.
But then... he exhaled.
A shaky smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head.
Kyouko isn’t like that.
She rarely left the house.
She was shy, quiet, almost too gentle for the world outside.
The thought of her falling for someone else felt impossible.
Who’s really the crazy one here?
Was Kyouko the one obsessed with his thick length, her body twitching and squirting with every deep thrust?
Or was he the one who had completely lost himself?
The one who couldn’t go a single day without replaying her moans in his head?
The one who still remembered the way her walls clenched around him so tight he almost forgot how to breathe?
Maybe she was addicted to his body.
But he was addicted to her.
Her smell. Her warmth. Her quiet.
She blinked, pulled from her thoughts by the familiar voice.
"What are you doing outside?" her father called from inside, his tone still as strict as ever. "Close the door and join us for drinks."
"I just... wanted to see the stars for a bit, Father."
Then, a dismissive grunt. "Suit yourself."
His voice shifted inside the house. "Kazuma! Kenji! You drink with me tonight! And call your wives to pour for you!"
Kyouko smiled faintly.
She stayed seated on the engawa, her hands folded neatly on her lap, her eyes lifted to the stars.
The sky in Okinawa was different. Quieter. Clearer. Colder.
Was Haruki looking at the same sky tonight?
Her chest ached with the thought.
She missed his touch. His heat. The way his lips brushed over her bare shoulder as he whispered, "You’re beautiful, Kyouko."
But more than that...
She missed the way he listened. The way he saw her.
If only I knew where Haruki was...
Kyouko stared up at the stars, her hands resting quietly in her lap. The wind was soft tonight, carrying the scent of salt from the ocean and hibiscus from the garden.
She would’ve called Satoshi and Satomi without hesitation. Told them she’d be staying in Okinawa for nearly a month. Used that as her cover.
She would have gone straight to Haruki’s place.
With only one thing in her heart.
Haruki... had left his phone behind.
And she didn’t have his social media.
Not LINE. Not even a backup contact.
She hadn’t asked. He hadn’t offered.
They were too busy...
Too busy having sex—over and over again.
Too busy trembling beneath him.
Too busy moaning his name as his thick, long penis stretched her open again and again, making her body feel real. Alive.
She climaxed so easily with him.
So deeply. So completely.
Each time he entered her, it felt like the first—sharp, sweet, unforgettable.
Every time he thrust into her, her mind melted. Her breath hitched. Her voice broke. She clung to him like he was the only thing keeping her alive.
Without his weight on top of her.
Without his warmth inside her.
Without his scent, his voice, his hands.
She let out a soft breath and looked up at the sky again.
The sliding door creaked open as a familiar voice echoed from the front yard.
"Oh, it’s been a while!"
It was the neighbor’s son, an old friend of Kenji’s. A man in his thirties, tall, broad-shouldered.
Kiyotaka’s voice rang from inside the room. "You! Come, sit. Drink with us!"
The man laughed politely and bowed. "Thank you, sir. It’s an honor."
He sat cross-legged beside the low table, his eyes subtly flicking toward Kyouko as she stepped into view.
Kiyotaka looked toward his daughter. "Kyouko... pour him a drink."
She simply shook her head once, gently but firmly. Her tone remained respectful.
"I’m sorry, Father... but I’m married, remember?"
Her eyes didn’t waver.
"I can only pour a drink for my husband."
The neighbor chuckled awkwardly and waved it off " Ah, dont worry about that."
Kyouko bowed politely. "Thank you."
Laughter came from the men—her father, Kenji, Kazuma, and the neighbor friend still hanging around longer than he should have.
But Kyouko’s mind was elsewhere.
If one day... Satoshi asked me to pour him a drink...
I would gladly... refuse.
She didn’t owe that man anything.
Not after two decades of being invisible.
Not after years of silence and cold sheets.
She would pour not just sake.
She would pour herself into him.
Her heart. Her warmth. Her body.
"Kyouko?" her mother asked softly, looking over with a curious smile. "What’s with that expression?"
Kyouko blinked, pulled gently from her thoughts.
"Ah... nothing," she replied with a soft laugh. "Just remembering something sweet."
Her mother tilted her head. "Your husband?"
Kyouko’s smile deepened.serene, radiant.
The one I always wanted.
The one who sees me. Touches me. Wants me.
The only man who makes me feel like a woman.