Maybe I’m just crazy...
Kyouko sat quietly in the driver’s seat, the warm hum of the engine filling the silence.
Her fingers curled slightly around the steering wheel. Her eyes stung.
Maybe I just... miss him... too much.
I’m his mother-in-law.
She let the words echo in her mind—hollow, painful.
I shouldn’t feel this.
We’re not a couple. We’re not married. We’re... something else.
Yes... we shared something. Something special.
We touched. We kissed. We held each other in secret.
I let him inside me. Again and again.
I let him see everything. Every inch of me. Every sound. Every part.
She covered her mouth, trying to hold herself together.
Why does it hurt this much?
It’s not even a month.
It’s only been a little more than a week. Less than two.
And yet her chest felt like it was splitting open.
Her body felt cold where he used to warm her.
Her heart felt loud in the emptiness.
We’re not anything the world would accept.
Then why am I... going crazy ...?
A tear slid down her cheek.
You’re old, Kyouko...
She sat still in the car, hands resting on her lap, headlights off.
The street was empty.
Yes, your skin is smooth. Like a girl in her early twenties.
Yes, your face is soft. Baby-faced, they say.
You’re older than him.
Her fingers tightened slightly.
Why did you chase after him like that?
Why did your heart pound when you saw that scooter?
Why did your hands shake when you thought it might be him?
She looked down at her lap, her knuckles pale.
Just the woman he sleeps with in secret.
The one he touches in the dark when no one is watching.
The one he kisses and enters and makes climax... behind closed doors.
But Kyouko kept trembling.
Tiny, silent shakes ran through her like ripples on still water.
She didn’t know why it felt .
Why her body wouldn’t calm down.
Why her chest felt so tight... like something had broken and was still falling.
I told myself it was nothing...
That I understood the boundaries...
That I was just someone he wanted... for now.
But her heart wouldn’t listen.
And neither would her body.
She curled her fingers into her skirt.
Why am I shaking ...?
Why does it feel like something’s being ripped out of me?
Why... when I’m not even his wife?
She squeezed her eyes shut.
I’m not... I’m not his anything.
Still, she missed his warmth.
Still, she remembered the sound of his voice.
Still, she wanted to reach for her phone and beg him to hold her—even just once.
But there was nothing she could do.
So she sat there, trembling in the quiet, with no one to see her fall apart.
Just a woman who’d tasted something too beautiful to ever forget...
and now had to pretend it never meant anything at all.
Her fingers clutched the steering wheel, knuckles pale, body still trembling softly.
The silence inside the car was heavy.
A breath caught in her throat.
Another whisper, trembling like the tips of her fingers.
"...missed you so much."
A single tear slipped down her cheek, catching the soft orange of the streetlamp outside.
Her voice was barely there, just a thread of breath.
"I’m sorry for feeling ..."
"For someone I don’t even have the right to love."
Her chest ached—deep and hollow.
"For someone who only used me for sex..."
"And I guess I did the same too, didn’t I...?"
Soft tears ran down her cheeks, one after another.
As the truth settled in her heart like rain on cold skin.
I’m already broken...
Meanwhile, back at the house...
"Where’s Kyouko?" their mother asked, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she peeked out the window.
Keiko looked up from arranging the dishes. "Hmm? She hasn’t come back yet?"
"No. Not yet," her mother said, frowning slightly. "She only went out to buy a few things, but it’s been quite a while."
Keiko glanced at the clock. "That is taking a bit too long..."
"Kenji!" their mother called, raising her voice slightly.
From the living room, Kenji responded, "Yeah?"
"Call your sister. See where she is."
"Okay, okay," he replied, lazily pulling out his phone.
He dialed her number as the evening air filled the house with the smell of cooked rice and simmering broth.
The mood was casual. Familiar.
Kyouko glanced at her phone, which rested in the passenger seat.
She sniffed softly, quickly wiping the tears from her cheeks with her fingertips. Her reflection in the window showed red eyes and trembling lips—but she forced them to stay still.
Calm down. Deep breath.
She smoothed her hair behind her ear, swallowed the ache, and tapped the screen.
"Kyouko!" Kenji’s voice rang through. "Mother’s asking where you are."
"Ah... I was watching the sunset," she said softly, adding a light chuckle to make it sound easy. "Sorry, I didn’t inform you."
"Don’t be late," Kenji said. "Mother said she needs that soy sauce."
"Okay~" she replied sweetly.
She ended the call, placed the phone back down, and rested her hands on the wheel again.
The sky outside had already begun to darken.
Then started the engine and drove home.
After a quiet drive through the dusky streets, Kyouko finally pulled into the driveway of her family home.
She shifted into park and turned off the engine.
For a moment, she just sat there—hands still on the steering wheel, eyes staring ahead into the dark.
She let out a slow, quiet exhale and gave herself a small nod.
Then stepped out of the car.
The porch light had been turned on. Its soft glow spilled across the gravel, warm and welcoming.
As she opened the trunk, the front door slid open.
"Neesan~" Kenji called, stepping out barefoot. "Need help?"
Kyouko offered him a gentle smile. "Yes, thank you."
He came over, already lifting two of the heavier bags from the trunk.
They moved together in silence for a moment.
Then Kenji glanced sideways at her.
"Hmm? What’s wrong, Kenji?"
He paused. His eyes lingered on her face just a little too long.
"...Ah. Nothing," he said quickly, turning away.