Chapter 5: A Warm Dinner

As a housewife, what is the most important task each day?

The answer is undoubtedly preparing three meals a day.

At least, that’s what the original owner’s memories told Nakano Risa.

Making breakfast in the morning—that was the start of her day.

The usual breakfast options in their household included:

Golden, crispy toast, warm milk, miso soup, perfectly cooked tamagoyaki, white rice, and pickled plums with a small dish of natto.

If there was time, she would also fry a few small fish, sprinkled with a bit of salt and lemon juice.

Then she would pack the prepared lunch into a bento box, arranging it carefully for her son to take to school.

The bento box was compartmentalized, separating rice, the main dish, and side dishes to prevent flavors from mixing.

Finally, she would place a small decorative note along the edge of the box, with cute drawings or a short encouraging message like “Do your best!”

At this point in her recollection, Nakano Risa couldn’t help but shake her head.

What a damn hassle.

Back home, moms would just give their kids some money and let them buy whatever they wanted for breakfast.

Fortunately, she didn’t need to worry about her husband’s lunch—on workdays, aside from breakfast, he handled his lunch and dinner at the office or at an izakaya.

Before transmigrating, she mostly cooked for herself to save money and rarely ordered takeout.

Now that she had become a housewife, with the added benefit of the original owner’s memories, making a Japanese-style dinner felt novel, but her hands moved quite skillfully.

Since her “bonus” son liked pork cutlet rice, she decided to make that.

She coated the pork cutlet in flour, egg wash, and breadcrumbs, then deep-fried it until golden brown—crispy on the outside, tender on the inside.

Mm, two portions—one for her, one for her son.

As for her husband, she only needed to prepare a pot of sobering soup.

Especially on Friday nights, he usually wouldn’t come back until after midnight.

“Anyway, he comes back drunk. A bowl of soup to sober him up is enough.”

She thought to herself, adding a few extra slices of ginger.

Alcohol upset the stomach—ginger would help warm it.

Annoyingly, as a housewife, she still had to wait for her husband to come home and settle that drunken man before she could sleep.

Otherwise, she would be considered an unqualified woman.

Sigh!

If this were back home, sleeping on the couch would be the least of it.

Some drunks wouldn’t even be allowed through the front door.

She used to think marrying a Japanese wife sounded pretty comfortable.

But now that she herself had become a Tokyo housewife…

Heh… this was all oppression against women!

Still, it wasn’t the time for her to turn the tables yet.

If she wanted a comfortable life, she had to keep her husband and child satisfied.

In Japanese society, a young woman without a husband seemed to have only one path left…

Wah, she absolutely didn’t want to be forced into that line of work!

“Nobuhito, dinner’s ready!”

Nakano Risa walked to the staircase and called out toward the second floor.

She deliberately slowed her speech, as if doing so would make her son feel more cared for.

But before her son could respond, a “click” came from the front door as it opened.

Her heart jolted, and she quickly turned toward the entrance.

Fortunately, after her son’s earlier reminder, she had changed into a rather conservative dress before cooking dinner.

She even wore her bra properly (though she had lingered a bit longer than necessary while putting it on), leaving no room for a man’s imagination.

“H-honey, you’re back.”

The man nodded, standing at the entryway.

His face was utterly unremarkable, like a template mass-produced on an assembly line.

Only his eyes carried a faintly assessing look, scanning her like a machine.

Nakano Risa glanced at him, inwardly complaining on behalf of the original owner.

‘Seriously? Such an average guy—completely forgettable. You wouldn’t even be able to pick him out of a crowd. Were you blind when you chose him?’

Half a minute passed, and the man still hadn’t stepped into the living room, standing there like a statue.

“Risa?” he finally spoke, frowning slightly.

Only then did she realize why he hadn’t moved.

“S-sorry!”

She hurried over to the shoe cabinet and placed his slippers at his feet.

After he changed into them, she neatly put away his leather shoes.

As he walked into the living room, he removed his suit jacket.

She immediately took it from him and hung it on the rack.

Damn—this was practically like a eunuch attending to an emperor.

It’s already the 21st century—why does this feudal nonsense still exist?

She grumbled inwardly while hanging the clothes, yet her face maintained a gentle smile.

“Dinner’s ready. You should wash your hands first,” she said softly.

The man nodded and headed straight to the bathroom.

Nakano Risa stood there, watching his back, silently sighing.

How long was this kind of life going to last…

When the man returned and sat at the dining table,

Nakano Risa suddenly realized she had only prepared two portions of pork cutlet rice and hadn’t made any dinner for her husband at all.

Left with no choice, she reluctantly served the two portions to the father and son first, then hurried back to the kitchen to make another one for herself.

Damn it—look at you, expecting food to be served and clothes handed to you!

Choke on it!

At the dining table, her son Nakano Nobuhito ate in silence.

His chopsticks moved quickly, as if focusing entirely on the food to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

Her husband also said nothing, eating slowly and methodically, occasionally wiping his mouth with a tissue, his movements refined as if deliberately trained.

Five minutes later, Nakano Risa returned with her own bowl and sat between them.

After just a couple of bites, she felt the atmosphere was awkward.

This family had issues.

Both the man and the child were like sealed jars.

No—that wasn’t right.

Her “bonus” son had teased her earlier in the afternoon, so why was he completely silent in front of his father?

Could it be… there was a rift between them?

Mm, that must be it.

Kids become rebellious as they grow up—it’s normal.

Sigh, she was already severely socially anxious, and now she had to deal with two people who refused to speak.

Was this life even livable?

Sure, she wanted to slack off comfortably.

But… there had to be a decent family atmosphere, right?

Yes—this housewife gig was something she wanted long-term, not just a temporary job!

If the father and son kept acting like enemies, she wouldn’t even be able to relax properly.

Nakano Risa decided to say something to break the silence.

“Um… honey, why did you come home so early today? Aren’t you usually much later?”

Her husband wiped his mouth with a tissue and said calmly,

“I just wanted to spend more time with you. There will always be more chances to drink.”

Nakano Risa put on a surprised expression.

“Really? I’ve always felt lonely at night.”

‘That’s just polite talk—don’t take it seriously. If you come back and act like a lord, I’ll just have more work to do. Better if you stay out of sight.’

Her son suddenly looked up, glanced at his father, then lowered his head again and muttered,

“Dad looks a bit different today.”

Nakano Risa smiled.

“What’s different? Isn’t he always like this? Maybe it’s because he skipped his social plans today?”

Her son didn’t respond, simply poking at the rice in his bowl with his chopsticks, as if deep in thought.

Her husband spoke gently,

“How has Nobuhito been doing at school lately? Have you made any new friends?”

The boy looked up, expressionless.

“It’s fine. Same as always.”

Nakano Risa noticed that her son’s gaze lingered on his father’s face for a few seconds.

She quickly interjected,

“Oh right, honey, the day after tomorrow is Saturday. Let’s go to the zoo as a family—Nobuhito has always wanted to go.”

Her husband nodded, his tone still gentle.

“Sure.”

Nakano Risa clasped her hands together, feigning excitement.

“That’s great! I’ll make sure to prepare a delicious bento for our outing tomorrow.”

This kind of reaction should match the original persona, right?

Judging by her husband and son’s responses, nothing seemed out of place.

After the topic ended, silence once again settled over the table, broken only by the sound of chopsticks against bowls.

Feeling the atmosphere grow stifling, Nakano Risa spoke again,

“Honey, was work tiring today? Do you want me to massage your shoulders?”

Her husband shook his head.

“No need. Cooking is already hard enough for you.”

She secretly rolled her eyes.

So fake—when did you ever treat the original owner this kindly before?

Her son suddenly put down his chopsticks.

“I’m full.”

“You haven’t finished… don’t you usually love pork cutlet rice?” Nakano Risa asked, puzzled.

He shook his head, his tone cold.

“Not much appetite today.”

After saying that, he stood up and carried his dishes to the kitchen.

Nakano Risa shook her head.

This “bonus” son had always been independent and eccentric—even the original owner hadn’t understood him well.

Let alone her, a newly arrived “stepmother.”

She turned her head and noticed her husband staring thoughtfully at their son’s retreating figure as he went upstairs.

When only the two of them remained in the dining room, the man spoke,

“Risa, do you know what’s going on with Nobuhito?”

Nakano Risa took a couple of bites of rice and sighed.

“Kids grow up—they start keeping things to themselves. Boys especially need their fathers to understand them. Honey, you work overtime too much and hardly communicate with him.”

Hehe—blame successfully shifted.

The man fell silent for a moment, then smiled gently.

“You’re right. It’s my fault.”