Chapter 9: Overslept

The next morning, Nakano Risa woke up naturally to her biological clock.

She blinked groggily, the ceiling coming into view—both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

After a few seconds of disorientation, her awareness rushed back like a tide.

She suddenly sat up, her heart skipping a beat.

“Oh no!”

Her first thought wasn’t about transmigration or the “stranger” beside her—it was pure housewife panic.

Judging by the brightness of the sunlight, it was definitely late!

She practically sprang out of bed, the sudden movement sending the blanket sliding off her body.

Then, almost instinctively, she hurriedly looked down to check her pajamas—buttons properly fastened, clothes neat, no suspicious wrinkles or signs of disturbance.

Good. Fully dressed.

That realization eased her slightly, but the next second, an even greater wave of panic hit.

She turned her head toward the other side of the room.

On the tatami, the bedding that belonged to her “husband,” Nakano Masao, had already been neatly put away. The futon was gone, clearly stored in the closet by someone who had gotten up early.

The space was empty.

He got up already?

And even cleaned up?

Maybe he had even… left for work?

As a proper Tokyo housewife, her “professional instincts” screamed alarm in her mind.

According to the original host’s memories, she had always been the earliest one awake—getting up before dawn every day to prepare breakfast for the family, without exception.

It wasn’t just habit—it was an unspoken household order, a role she was expected to fulfill.

And now, on just her second day in this world, she had already broken that iron rule!

“I’m doomed, I’m doomed, I’m doomed…” she muttered under her breath as she scrambled to tidy her bedding.

Her hurried movements made the task clumsy—she nearly twisted the blanket into a mess.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down, then quickly (though still slightly awkwardly) rolled up the futon and stuffed it into the closet.

Next, she rushed into the bathroom like a gust of wind.

She brushed her teeth and washed her face at lightning speed, foam nearly splattering onto the mirror.

Splashing cold water onto her face, she looked at her reflection—a beautiful face still marked with sleepiness and clear signs of panic.

She tried to force a “calm” expression, but it only made her look more guilty.

When she finally hurried downstairs, almost jogging, her hair wasn’t even fully combed—one stubborn strand sticking out near her ear.

In the dining area, her son Nakano Nobuhito was already seated at the table.

In front of him sat half-eaten toast and a steaming cup of milk. He sipped quietly, his movements refined beyond what one would expect from a ten-year-old.

Hearing her hurried footsteps, he lifted his eyes and looked at his slightly breathless mother, giving a small nod in greeting.

“N-Nobuhito!” Risa’s voice came out slightly higher than usual. “Where’s your dad?”

Her gaze swept across the dining room and kitchen, but she saw no sign of the man.

“He left for work,” Nobuhito replied calmly.

“Th-then… breakfast…” Her eyes fell on the toast in front of him—it was perfectly toasted, with a small plate of neatly arranged fruit beside it. Everything looked almost too orderly. “Did your dad make it?”

“Yeah,” Nobuhito said, taking another bite of toast. “He also heated the milk.”

“Ah… I see…” Risa’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her pajamas as she spoke apologetically, “I’m sorry, Nobuhito… Mom overslept today! I’m really, really sorry!”

She bent slightly and clasped her hands together in apology, like a schoolkid caught doing something wrong.

Nobuhito paused mid-bite, staring at her unusual, lively and flustered behavior.

Behind his glasses, his eyes blinked once—perhaps with a hint of surprise.

After swallowing, he shrugged casually.

“It’s fine. A change of taste once in a while isn’t bad.”

Risa quickly forced a smile. “R-Really? I’m glad you like it! Um… Mom will go prepare your lunchbox right away!”

In a dimension invisible to ordinary people, two distorted shadowy creatures hung upside down from the ceiling, circling and observing the interaction between mother and son. Occasionally, they made exaggerated silent faces to try and scare them.

Nobuhito was long used to it, completely unfazed.

But today, his mother’s unusual behavior—her frantic movements and expressive emotions—felt… more real than the usual version of her, who always seemed to have her emotions sealed behind a layer of glass.

[Nakano Nobuhito’s favorability toward you +5. Current favorability: 73]

The system notification flashed briefly, but Risa, busy panicking, didn’t notice.

She rushed into the kitchen like a wound-up machine.

Fortunately, she had prepped some ingredients for today’s bento the night before, so she wasn’t starting from scratch.

Even so, actually cooking, assembling, and plating everything was still a challenge for this “new mom.”

Memory was theory—practice was something else entirely.

She muttered steps to herself while carefully making tamagoyaki, boiling vegetables, and packing rice neatly into the bento box.

Finally, just as Nobuhito finished breakfast, she handed him a well-balanced, neatly arranged lunchbox.

“Here, Nobuhito! Do your best today!” Risa said, a thin layer of sweat on her forehead, her eyes bright like they held morning dew, her tone tightly controlled.

“Thank you… Mom,” he replied softly before turning to leave.

The moment the door closed behind him, Risa felt like all her energy had been drained.

She returned to the living room and collapsed onto the sofa with a dull thud, spreading out like a wilted vine under harsh sunlight.

“Phew… so tired…” she sighed, staring at the ceiling.

Damn it.

Playing the role of the “perfect Nakano Risa” was far more exhausting than she had imagined.

In the living room, only one invisible spirit remained, floating silently. Another had already followed Nobuhito out.

They were their master’s eyes and ears, never slacking.

At that moment, Nakano Masao was observing his wife through the spirit’s vision.

She lounged lazily on the sofa, her skirt slipping slightly to reveal her bare legs.

Her ankles were slender like porcelain, the curve of her foot smooth and delicate.

Her toes curled slightly, showing off carefully maintained nail art.

Under the morning light, her skin glowed softly, even the faint lines of her soles visible, full of natural vitality.

One foot rested casually on the edge of the sofa, her heel hanging slightly off, swaying gently with her breathing. Her toes twitched faintly, as if silently inviting attention.

Inside a crowded subway carriage, Nakano Masao leaned against a cold handrail, surrounded by noise—but to him, it all faded into a dull hum.

In his vision, her feet were magnified through the spirit’s perspective, so detailed he could see the fine hairs near her ankles.

His throat bobbed. His fingers rubbed against the seam of his pants, as if he could already feel that soft warmth.

This unguarded, relaxed posture… unfolding so openly right under his watch…

A burning undercurrent surged in his chest.

Lowering his head, his lips nearly brushed the back of his trembling hand. His voice was low, hoarse—like a whisper meant for a lover.

“So relaxed at home… you deserve a little punishment.”

His words faded into the rumble of the subway arriving at the station.