Chapter 8: Inside the Bedroom

After drying her hair, Nakano Risa walked out of the bathroom, her mind heavy with thoughts.

Only a single night lamp remained lit in the living room, casting a faint yellow glow into the surrounding darkness.

The silence felt almost tangible, pressing down on her breathing like a physical weight.

The bedroom door on the first floor was slightly ajar, a slanted beam of warm light spilling out like a blurred boundary drawn across the floor.

Through the gap, she saw that the man had already laid out the futon on the tatami and was lying down.

In Japanese households, sleeping on the floor was customary, and laying out and tidying bedding daily was part of a housewife’s routine.

His figure lay on his side, calm and still in the dim light.

She stood at the doorway, her feet feeling as heavy as lead.

Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, her palms damp with sweat.

Beyond that door, it no longer felt like an ordinary bedroom—

But a vortex of the unknown.

Once she stepped in, some delicate balance might shatter, leading everything into unpredictable territory.

After hesitating for a long time, she let out a barely audible sigh.

Running away was useless.

What had to be faced would eventually be faced.

The longer she delayed, the more her fear and suspicions would grow like vines, tightening until she suffocated.

Nakano Risa gently pushed the door open.

Only a low-watt bedside lamp was on, its ambiguous glow covering a small area.

The man had his eyes closed, seemingly asleep.

She deliberately softened her movements, stepping quietly like a cat toward her own futon.

Just as she was about to lift the blanket—

“Risa.”

The low voice suddenly broke the silence, so clear that her entire body stiffened.

She froze mid-motion, half-bent, her throat tightening.

“…Mm?”

“Come here.”

Her heart leapt into her throat.

Blood rushed to her head, then drained away just as quickly, leaving her fingertips cold.

What does he want?

The thought flashed through her mind like lightning, bringing with it unsettling implications.

But she had no choice.

The original owner would never refuse such a simple request from her husband.

Suppressing the storm raging inside her, she slowly straightened up, turned around, and walked toward him with a nearly textbook display of obedience, lowering herself to her knees beside his futon.

At some point, the man had turned onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he quietly watched her in the dim light.

His face seemed softer in the shadows than usual, but his eyes were deep like an ancient well, reflecting the faint flicker of the lamp—impossible to read.

“You’ve worked hard today,” he said.

His voice was lower than usual, carrying a trace of languid fatigue, yet strangely magnetic.

“It wasn’t hard.”

She lowered her gaze, forcing a gentle, compliant smile onto her lips.

He extended his hand.

It was a healthy tone, with well-defined knuckles, yet carried an unnatural coolness.

Instead of touching her face or shoulder, it moved downward with clear intent—

Until it gently grasped her bare ankle, exposed beneath the hem of her sleep pants.

“Mm…” Nakano Risa trembled involuntarily.

A chill shot from the point of contact straight up her spine.

His hand was indeed cold.

Devoid of a living person’s warmth.

Like fine jade—smooth and icy.

His fingers did not grip tightly, only loosely encircling her ankle.

But his fingertips began to slowly trace along the delicate bone, moving with deliberate care—

From the protruding ankle bone,

To the curve of her Achilles tendon,

To the soft skin across the top of her foot.

The touch felt both like an absent-minded caress—

And like a careful inspection of something hidden.

Carrying an unsettling focus beyond ordinary intimacy.

“Your feet are a bit cold,” he stated, his gaze still fixed on them.

“I—I just finished bathing…” Her voice inevitably tensed.

Under his gaze and touch, her toes almost curled in embarrassment, only to be forcibly restrained by her rational mind.

He seemed not to care about her subtle stiffness.

Or perhaps he noticed, but chose not to point it out.

His fingers shifted, sliding from her ankle to the top of her foot, brushing lightly across her rounded toes.

“However,” his voice carried a faint, elusive hint of amusement, “your nails are quite beautiful.”

His thumb stroked her big toe, painted in a pale cherry-blossom polish, dotted with tiny silver sparkles that shimmered faintly like starlight in the dim glow.

“Like carefully polished mother-of-pearl,” he murmured softly, his touch lingering.

“Or… gemstones hiding stardust.”

Nakano Risa’s cheeks flushed uncontrollably.

The original owner had indeed paid attention to such details.

Since housework made hand manicures inconvenient, she had instead focused on her toenails.

This body’s foot shape was already delicate—now even more refined.

But to be stared at so closely—

Praised so directly—

And in such an almost flirtatious tone—

This completely exceeded her psychological preparation as a transmigrator and a socially anxious person.

Countless responses surged through her mind.

Modest ones.

Shy ones.

Deflecting ones…

Yet they all stuck in her throat, collapsing into a single short, dry sound:

“Mm.”

She could even feel her ears burning.

The man seemed to chuckle softly.

That faint laugh made her heartbeat stumble again.

Finally, he released her.

The cold touch withdrew—

Yet left behind a strange, lingering sensation.

“Sleep.”

He lay back down, closing his eyes, as if that ambiguous and peculiar moment had never happened.

Nakano Risa felt as though she had been granted amnesty.

She immediately slipped into her blanket as quickly as possible, wrapping herself tightly.

Darkness fell around her, cutting off that unsettling gaze.

But at her ankle—

Where his fingers had touched—

The cold, delicate sensation seemed to remain, radiating faint warmth, forming a strange contrast with the rest of her body.

Her heartbeat sounded especially loud in the silence, pounding against her ears.

He had touched her.

Without further violation.

Without explicit teasing.

Just a seemingly casual contact.

And that made it even more unsettling.

Because the intent behind it was impossible to discern.

She lay stiffly, even her breathing softened to the faintest whisper, ears straining to catch any movement from the futon beside her.

After a long while, steady and even breathing reached her ears.

Nothing unusual.

No way… did he just fall asleep like that?

He must be asleep… right?

Nakano Risa couldn’t be sure.

All she knew was—

This night had become unbearably long.

Every second felt like walking along a dark, shallow shore—

Unsure when the next step might give way beneath her.

The lingering chill at her ankle felt like a curse.

The more she tried to ignore it, the more impossible it became.

Damn it.

That guy did it on purpose.

He was toying with her.

But for now—

Before she understood what kind of entity lurked beneath that human shell—

She absolutely could not expose herself.

Besides…

He hadn’t forced himself on her.

…Did that count as good news?