Later that night, Seiji sat at the kitchen table, slowly picking at the remnants of his dinner.
Everyone else had already retreated to their rooms. Only Haruko was there, putting away the dishes.
Usually, Seiji kept his head down and ate quickly. Transferring food into his stomach was his one and only priority in the kitchen. Almost always. But not tonight.
Tonight, he was full of thoughts, and he noticed more around him.
For example, he noticed that his stepmom was different.
Her movements were slower, more deliberate—almost like a dance. There was a subdued grace in her every gesture. She was wearing a short summer dress, the kind he'd only seen her wear on rare trips to the countryside with his dad. It was out of place here and at this hour, showing off too much of her slender legs and the delicate curve of her shoulders.
Why is she wearing it now?
Seiji's gaze lingered.
She's a very attractive woman. I get why dad is putty in her hands.
Haruko turned, catching his stare. She didn't look away. Instead, she smiled.
"Seiji," she murmured, her voice like warm honey. "You've been so quiet tonight. Is everything alright?"
Seiji returned his eyes to his plate. He could feel warmth radiating from her, a palpable heat that surprised him.
"I'm fine," he muttered.
"Are you sure?" Haruko was behind him now. Her hands landed on his shoulders.
Seiji froze.
He wasn't ready for this.
She began to knead his muscles, her fingers firm and confident, massaging the tension away. "I think you've been too stressed," she said quietly. "I can feel it in your body."
You have no idea, he thought, unsure whether it was good or bad that she didn't know. But her touch felt incredible—too nice. Seiji's shoulders relaxed in spite of himself.
"You see?" Haruko hummed softly, her breath close to his ear. "It's getting better already."
Her hands slid from his shoulders to wrap around his neck, her cheek pressing against his. "You should always tell me how you feel. I'm here to help, Seiji."
He barely nodded, feeling the sweet weight of her breasts against his upper back. She smelled amazing—flowers and something like fresh air.
She smells almost as nice as Yumi.
Seiji's eyes closed instinctively.
"Okay?" Haruko asked, her lips against his earlobe.
"Okay," he blurted out.
"Very good," she exclaimed, straightening up and pulling him to his feet. "Now, give me a hug."
Seiji stood awkwardly.
Since when do we hug? What is going on with this world? Has everyone gone crazy?
But Haruko already pulled him into a big hug, her body soft and pliant against his.
"I've always cared about you, Seiji," she whispered, her words vibrating in his skull. "You know that, right?"
All Seiji could feel was the softness of her breasts crushed against him. His heart hammered against his ribs, and he felt the amulet's warmth spread up his neck like a fever.
The amulet!
Holy shit. She's… under its spell, already too…
"Right, Seiji?"
What the hell was the question?
"Right," he mumbled.
Haruko freed him from her grip, her eyes sparkling with a terrifyingly strong light. "I'm so happy to hear that!" She smiled wider, her hands cupping his face. "I want to be the best stepmom you could have! Have a great night, Seiji. Sweet dreams."
And she walked away, glancing back every few steps, as Seiji stood in the middle of the kitchen.
Processing…
The world had really gone crazy.
He made this happen.