A Love I Shouldn't Feel-Chapter 212: Under Surveillance ( )

Kyouko sat quietly in a corner of the hospital cafeteria.

A small tray in front of her.

She only ate a little. Just enough to avoid her father’s scolding...

Or Kenji’s habit of reporting everything back to him.

She wasn’t hungry.

But she forced the food down.

And then—her phone rang.

Satomi.

Kyouko stared at the screen for a moment.

Then took a breath and answered.

"Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Hmm? What’s wrong?"

"How’s Haruki?"

Kyouko paused for a second, then replied evenly.

"Still the same."

"Oh."

Her jaw tightened.

Oh?

That’s all?

Your husband has been in the hospital for nearly a month, and all you can say is ’oh’?

He’s lying unconscious and you haven’t even visited once. Not even once.

How broken is your mind now, Satomi...?

How far gone are you that you don’t even worry about him anymore...?

She kept her voice calm.

"Mom?" fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

"Hmm?"

"You’re not going home?"

Kyouko dabbed her lips with a napkin.

"If you’re going to take care of Haruki here, then I will. Why?"

"Oh, nothing, Mom..."

Kyouko’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"So you’re coming to take care of your husband?"

A pause.

"Ah... Mom, sorry. I’m in the middle of a meeting."

"...Mm. Okay."

She ended the call, placing the phone down beside her tray.

Inside her mind, Kyouko sat in silence, eyes fixed on the last bite of food she hadn’t touched.

Maybe... I should go home once in a while.

Yeah... just to check.

Check the house.

Her thoughts wandered—slow, deliberate.

Look at Haruki’s room...

See if Satomi even bothered to clean it.

See if she even remembers what it looks like.

She let out a quiet sigh, pressing her fingertips to her temple.

I’m sure the house is a mess.

Clothes everywhere. Dishes untouched. Floors unwashed.

Because that girl... she only knows how to dress up and go out.

She closed her eyes for a moment, the weight behind them heavy.

She doesn’t know how to look after a home.

She doesn’t know how to care for Haruki.

Not like I do.

Her fingers brushed the rim of her teacup.

Her eyes stayed low, quietly swirling her tea as her thoughts deepened.

And her father never scolded her.

Not even once.

Not even when Satomi ignored her own husband lying half-dead in the hospital.

A bitter smile pulled faintly at the edge of her lips.

What a stupid excuse for a husband... and a father.

Pampering his daughter like she’s royalty...

Treating her like a fragile little princess—while I...

While I spent twenty years in that house like a maid.

Cleaning. Cooking. Silent. Forgotten.

She sighed, setting her cup down gently.

Well... not my problem anymore.

That part of my life is done.

A softness crept into her gaze, warmth only one person had given her.

Because now...

I already have a good man.

Gentle... loving...

Handsome...

A slight blush touched her cheeks.

And gifted...

So thick. So rare... among men.

Her legs squeezed together subtly at the memory.

Only mine.

He was only ever mine.

And no one would ever take that from her again.

Maybe I should go back home once.

Her fingers tapped gently against her purse.

Just for a little while.

Take some of Haruki’s clothes...

He might need them when he wakes up.

She imagined him sitting up in bed, groggy, asking softly for her.

Wearing the shirts he always liked—the ones she used to fold with care, still warm from the laundry.

And maybe... I can cook something.

Her eyes softened, the corner of her lips curling faintly.

His favorite soup... grilled fish with that sauce he likes.

Maybe... just maybe... if he smells it...

He’ll wake up.

She didn’t know if it worked like that.

But she didn’t care.

Love made you hope for impossible things.

Kyouko quietly returned her tray, placing it neatly where the others had been stacked.

A small bow to the staff.

Then she turned and walked slowly out of the cafeteria, hands lightly clutching her purse.

Her heels echoed softly as she moved down the corridor toward the elevator.

She pressed the button and waited, her expression calm.

The elevator arrived with a soft chime.

As the doors opened.

"Hello."

She glanced up.

"Hmm? Hello."

A man, casual in tone. Late thirties, maybe early forties.

Alone.

"You alone?"

"Sorry, I was with my husband," Kyouko replied quickly, bowing politely as she stepped into the elevator.

He followed.

"Ah... just wanted to chat. I’m here to see my brother."

"Good for you."

Kyouko offered a light, practiced smile.

Polite. Empty.

She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen, scrolling through messages—clearly not interested.

The man glanced sideways at her, a little too bold.

"You’re beautiful. I’ve seen you here every day."

Kyouko said nothing.

She didn’t even look up.

Didn’t acknowledge the comment.

Her eyes stayed on her phone, her posture calm, collected.

And the message was clear:

She wasn’t here to make conversation.

Certainly not with men like him.

The man leaned casually against the elevator wall, smiling at her.

"You know... how about I treat you to something at the cafeteria?"

Kyouko lifted her head, offering the same polite smile she always wore in uncomfortable situations.

Her voice was calm, clipped.

"I was just there. So, no thanks."

"Aw, don’t be like that. Just a coffee—"

She turned her head slowly, eyes sharp now.

"I’m sorry?"

Her tone was no longer soft.

"Which part didn’t you understand when I said I’m here with my husband?"

The man’s smirk faltered slightly.

Kyouko didn’t stop.

"Are you deaf? Or just stupid? Or maybe you’re both—deaf and retarded?"

Her words cut clean, her gaze unwavering.

"This is a hospital. Not a bar. And I’m not here to entertain some creep with nothing better to do."

The elevator dinged.

The doors opened.

Kyouko stepped out with perfect poise.

Just before the elevator doors could close, she turned slightly—just enough for her voice to carry back.

"If you’re looking for a girl," she said coldly,

"a hospital isn’t the place to invite someone on a date."

Her eyes didn’t flinch.

"Do you seriously think a hospital is a place for matchmaking?"

The man blinked, caught off guard, mouth half-open but no words coming.

But behind that stunned silence, his face twisted with fury.

He stepped out of the elevator just as the doors reopened and stormed after her, teeth clenched, eyes burning.

"You bitch—"

His hand shot up, ready to strike her across the face—a hard slap fueled by humiliation.

Just inches before his palm could touch her cheek.

Two shadows moved faster than sight.

Two men in black caps appeared out of nowhere, seizing his arm mid-swing.

"Wha—!??"

Before he could even shout, they dragged him back, locking both arms behind his back and pulling him into a side hallway with terrifying precision.

No one around even blinked.

It all happened in complete silence—practiced, professional, invisible.

Kyouko stood still for a second, barely flinching.

Her eyes calmly followed the direction they vanished into.

She exhaled quietly.

So... they’re still watching me.

She didn’t know their names.

She didn’t even know how many were around.

But she knew enough.

Her father had sent them.

And they never let her out of sight.

( End Of Chapter )

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