Troubled Youth

"Shuuhei, you're home." Hitomi, my mother, popped her head out from the kitchen as she heard my entrance and offered a smile.  She was a beautiful woman, Hitomi. Her hair was long, done in a single thick braid that fell to the small of her back. Her face, narrow and soft, was incredibly feminine and charming.  

She was the kind of women men could easily love. Today the woman wore a sweater and jeans, a large ladle in hand. "Dinner's almost ready. Call your sister down to eat, please?"  She asked before disappearing back into the kitchen.

I didn't bother to respond to her. The less we talked, the better. I didn't like to spend more time together than we needed to.

"Dinner. Come down." I rapped on the door twice and kept my words short. Whether she heard me or not didn't matter, at least not to me.

Suffice it to say, we aren't exactly close. We were, once, but that was a lifetime ago. Or felt like it, in any case. To be honest I don't even know why she keeps coming home, she makes more than enough money to live on her own and actually does have her own apartment far from here.  But for some reason, she continues to stay over more often than not.

Maybe its from a sense of guilt? Though if that's it, then just like with Asami its a bit late.But guessing was pretty useless and I had other things to worry about. Names, the lack of my father's shoes near the door. 

It meant he was either coming home late or not at all. And say what you will about the bastard, at least with him here Hitomi would keep up the appearance of a good wife and mother. Well, for a while. The two rubbed each other the wrong way, and that bastard father liked his alcohol. They'd argue, sure as the sun would rise. Not every day, but often enough to where I can't even remember a time they looked happy together. If ever. 

There's only one instance where I know Hitomi truly enjoys herself, and I was already dreading the coming hours. 

"Your father is going on a business trip again," The woman in question announced during dinner. 

Business trip...it wasn't a lie, but it was laughable if you believed that's all the man would be doing. Cheating on his wife with brothel girls was high on the man's list of activities, I'm sure. 

"Alright." This was said by a woman in her early twenties with fair skin and dark hair cut just below her chin. She had come casually dressed in similar attire to Hitomi. This was my sister, Katsuragi Yukiko. She ate calmly, with a cold, efficient composure. 

She didn't even bother to look up at us once as she chewed. I used to hate that. Now, it's nothing.  

Hitomi looked at her daughter kindly as she passed the woman a glass. "Your juice. Drink up." She smiled. 

Yukiko reached for it and I noticed a slight hesitation before she grasped the cup. "Thanks." She downed the thing in one go then pushed aside her barely half-eaten plate. "I'm full." Her words were clipped. 

Hitomi only nodded gently at her, not at all concerned. In fact, there was barely any interest in her gaze at all. 

***

She'd come as she always did, draped in lace and silk. I could hear the door close, and then her weight as she crawled onto my bed.

"Oh, Shuu," She breathed into my ear. "I've missed you." My mother nuzzled my neck and started pressing against my prone body. 

I wanted to feign sleep, but I knew that wouldn't matter. Whatever she kept putting into my food made sure of that. Even if I abhorred it, my hands now ached to slide over that smooth, warm skin. I'd despise her at day, but when nights like these came I wasn't given the option of not wanting her.

"And I missed this even more." Her palm slid under the covers and gripped lightly at my swollen cock. Her lips covered mine, and a familiar fire in my chest started blazing. My body craved release. 

The next few hours were a blur, but the loud moans were always vivid in my memory. I'm not sure when, but she'd long since stopped caring about being discreet. Her body slammed against my own with fervor. She was wild and insatiable, demanding a harder fucking at every turn. 

At one point she rode my cock and grabbed my face, trembling as she reached orgasm for the fifth time. "That's it, baby. Come for mommy." She urged. 

Now, spent, she laid at my side with a hand over my heart and slept.  As for me, I was finally coming down from whichever drugs I'm sure had to be coursing through my veins right now.  That being the case, I got up and walked towards the bathroom. 

I found Yukiko on my way there. She had a glass of water in her hand and stared at me silently. I stood there, naked and still erect.  

I looked back at her silently until she averted her eyes and walked back to her room. I almost laughed. Almost. 

A scalding shower ensued, but it was never enough to wash away her touch. I scrubbed until my skin turned raw but it wouldn't go away. Even her smell seemed forever imprinted onto my flesh, clogging my nose and making me want to gag. I remember crying in my early years. Cutting myself. 

...I didn't react like that, these days. An uncountable number of nights just like this had killed something in me. Whatever it had been, I'm glad it's gone. The sex was no longer anything significant, but just another part of my life.  

A cry came from down the hall and my heart started beating again. I found him in his playpen. The boy was standing on his tip-toes, staring at the living room TV as some anime played on the screen. I noticed he had the remote clutched at his chest. Hitomi had probably let him have it to keep him occupied. 

"Anything interesting on, Haru?" I asked, coming up behind him. The kid, all of one year old, grew visibly excited at my arrival. He shook with overflowing energy and cried, "Suu!" 

He tried to say my name but hadn't quite figured out how to form the words. 

I fought a grin and picked him up. "Pudgy brat. It's "Aniki", you hear me? A-ni-ki." I poked his cheek. Haru squealed in delight and looked up at me with deep, forest-green eyes. Once, not so long ago, those eyes had haunted me. I despised looking at them. Not because I hated him, but because they were a perfect mirror of my own. 

Yet the more time I  had spent with him, the more that feeling disappeared. And now there was no room in me left to dislike any part of him, even the parts that were her's. 

"You must've been asleep since forever, huh?" I tickled his belly. He cooed happily in response. "You aren't going back to bed anytime soon, I'd bet."

That's good.  Neither will I.