Ren froze. His mind went blank as his eyes followed the path of his foot under the table. At first, he thought it was Kyouka—he had been teasing her, enjoying the subtle flush on her cheeks and the way she kept sneaking glances at him—until she suddenly went indifferent. But the sensation under his foot… it wasn't her.

Ren's heart skipped a beat. His pupils contracted as his mind slowly caught up with his body, realizing what he had just done. It wasn't Kyouka he had been playing with—rather, it was someone he never expected. It was Misa.

Misa, sitting calmly across from him, was wearing her usual kimono. And now… Ren realized with growing horror that his foot had brushed against the side of her thigh, sliding slightly beneath the fabric. His hand went to the table to steady himself, but the tablecloth had betrayed him, concealing everything and pulling him to his current situation.

A cold sweat ran down his back. His mind raced. No… no, no, no. This isn't happening. This can't be happening.

Ren tried to pull back, but the movement only pushed him slightly deeper into her. Misa let out a small, surprised sound, her hand briefly gripping the edge of the table. Her expression… was impossible to read. Shock? Confusion? Or something deeper—something he had never imagined seeing on her face before.

Ren kept his eyes on Misa, desperate to read her expression and see if she was angry, all while struggling to stay calm.

Misa's eyes met his for the first time, wide, unsteady, yet something flickered in them—a hint of something Ren couldn't quite place. She blinked, as if shaking herself out of a daze, and straightened up in her seat.

"Ren…?" Her voice was soft, uncertain.

Ren cursed under his breath, trying to pull his foot entirely free, but the motion had already done its damage. He felt heat creeping up his neck, shame and panic mingling with a twisted sense of… arousal. His mind screamed at him to stop, but his body hadn't fully obeyed yet.

He snapped his eyes upward, scanning the room, and realized that both Kyouka and Hiyori had stopped mid-motion. They were staring.

"Mom… are you okay?" Hiyori asked, voice tinged with concern. "You look… weird."

Kyouka's expression was unreadable, sharp eyes narrowing. "Everything okay?" she asked, a bit more suspicious than concerned.

Misa cleared her throat, placing her hands delicately on her lap. Her usual calm composure seemed intact, but Ren could feel the tension radiating from her.

"I… I think I'm a little sleepy," Misa said quietly, voice steady but softer than usual. "I should head to bed."

"Okay, Mom," Hiyori said, yawning widely. "I'm going to sleep too." She stood, stretching, then walked toward the stairs.

Ren's heart was still hammering as the younger girl disappeared from view. Kyouka, meanwhile, remained seated, her sharp gaze briefly flicking toward him, then down at the cards.

Ren's mind was a storm. Oh no… oh no, oh no, oh no. He could still feel the faint wetness under his foot and his fingers, the evidence of his mistake. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his racing thoughts. I have to think. I can't—she's Misa. My caretaker...My mother. I can't…

Kyouka finally glanced at him, her usual fiery expression replaced by something softer, tinged with curiosity and perhaps a touch of embarrassment.

"Ren… do you want to finish the game in my room?" she asked quietly, almost hesitant, but her meaning was clear.

Ren froze mid-thought. He blinked. Of course he understood what she meant. But… Misa. Misa first.

"I… I'm kind of tired," he said, voice steady even as his stomach churned. "After all the cooking, I think I'll go to sleep. Maybe we can play tomorrow."

Kyouka's expression softened, and she nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I understand. Good night, Ren."

"Good night," he murmured back, forcing a calm tone. His mind, however, was far from calm. Focus. Don't freak out. First… Misa.

He stood slowly, trying to look natural as he moved toward his room. Kyouka's eyes followed him briefly, then she looked down at her cards again before going to her own room, after all, she had the most tiresome day out of all of them.

Once he was out of sight, Ren's movements became quicker, more deliberate. He slipped toward Misa's room, the door already slightly ajar. His heart hammered in his chest. Unlocked… of course it's unlocked. Is she even in there?

He paused just outside the doorway, hand hovering over the frame. His mind raced: Stay calm, Ren. Don't make it worse. Just check… see if she's sleeping. That's all. Nothing else.

He pushed the door open slowly, peeking inside. The room was dimly lit by a small bedside lamp. The futon was neatly arranged… and, thankfully, Misa's side of the bed appeared empty.

Misa, being the traditional Japanese woman she was, still used a futon instead of the bed the others preferred. Her room had a strange charm to it—very simplistic, yet elegant—something Ren couldn't help but appreciate.

He let out a shaky breath, trying to slow his pulse. Relief washed over him, though the evidence of his earlier mistake—the love juices of Misa and warmth on his foot—was still burning in his mind. Oh… what the hell just happened? I can't believe that.

He stepped in cautiously, closing the door softly behind him. The room smelled faintly of Misa's usual perfume, a subtle floral scent that somehow made his panic worse. He moved toward the bed, his eyes scanning for any sign that she had returned until Ren heard a noise inside Misa's washroom.

Ren froze, his breath catching in his throat. The faint sound filtering through the thin washroom door was unmistakable.

A soft, muffled moan slipped through the washroom door, followed by another—this time clearer, trembling with need.

"Y-Yes… ahh… yes… Ren… just like that…"

It was unmistakably Misa's voice, breathless and dripping with desire, moaning his name.

His heart stopped. Then raced faster than ever.

No… no way.

The rhythmic rustling, the wet sounds, and the quiet, strained breaths all told him exactly what was happening. Misa… the calm, reserved Misa… was pleasuring herself.

Ren staggered back a step, gripping the side of the low dresser as if it could steady the storm inside him. His face burned, his entire body thrumming with panic and something far more dangerous. He shouldn't be here. He couldn't be here. But his feet refused to move, as though rooted by the gravity of what he was hearing.

Inside, Misa's voice rose again, softer but broken with desire, her breaths growing shorter, sharper.

Ren bit his lip hard enough to sting. Leave, Ren. Leave now, before she—

The sound cut off. Silence.

The soft trickle of water followed—perhaps an attempt to wash herself off—before the faint creak of the door.

Ren's eyes went wide.

The washroom door slid open, and there she was.

Misa stepped out, her usually perfect hair slightly undone, a few loose strands framing her flushed face in a way that made her look both vulnerable and unbearably alluring. Her cheeks glowed with color, and a faint sheen of sweat glistened across the smooth line of her collarbone, catching the soft light. She had retied her kimono in a hurry, but the fabric hung loosely around her shoulders, slipping just enough to hint at the curves she tried to conceal.

Her eyes widened the instant they found him standing frozen in the middle of her room—but even in her shock, Ren couldn't tear his gaze away. In that moment, Misa wasn't just the calm, traditional mother he had always known. She was breathtakingly, devastatingly sexy.

"…Ren?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

The air between them turned unbearably heavy. Neither moved. Neither spoke.

Ren's throat tightened. He wanted to explain, to apologize, but the words tangled up, choking him.

Misa's hand flew to her chest, clutching at her kimono as though to shield Ren from seeing an older body like hers, though the gesture did little to hide what had already been revealed. To Ren, it was unmistakably the most erotic sight he had ever witnessed—seeing the most reserved and composed woman laid bare before him in such a vulnerable, unguarded way.

Her eyes darted—toward the door, then back to him.

For a moment, all Ren saw was raw embarrassment on her face. But beneath it… there was something else. Something unspoken.

Ren's body screamed at him to turn, to walk away and not make any mistakes, to escape before the silence broke them both. But his legs stayed locked, his pulse deafening in his ears.

"…why… are you here?" Misa finally managed, her voice trembling, caught between surprise, shame, and something softer she couldn't bring herself to admit.

Ren then looked at her and asked a stupid question—one he already knew the answer to. "What… were you doing in there, Misa?"

Misa froze, her hand still clutching the loose fabric of her kimono. Her lips parted slightly, as if to answer, but no words came out at first. The flush on her cheeks deepened, and she looked anywhere but at him, her gaze darting to the floor, the futon, even the walls—as if the room itself could swallow her embarrassment.

At that moment, Ren knew that their attempts to keep their relationship normal were beyond saving.