Episode 1: The Ideal Family

Somewhere in Tokyo. A short walk from a private railway station lay an ordinary residential area, the kind to be found in any town. Inside a room of a slightly aged, weathered apartment building, Kenta Tanaka, a first-year university student, was present.

The muggy, unpleasant heat immediately following the end of the rainy season clung stickily to every corner of the room, where the air conditioning had not yet been turned on. Inside the dimly lit living room, pierced by the rays of the setting western sun, several unopened cardboard boxes lay scattered about.

Having only recently returned from the university, Kenta, still dressed in his uniform, drew out the blade of the utility knife in his hand rather long with three sharp clicks. Instead of the seam sealed with packing tape, he mercilessly drove the tip of the blade straight into the center of the cardboard.

With a dull, tearing sound, the stiff fibers were ripped open. There was no hesitation in his hands as he applied pressure and forcefully dragged the blade. From the slit in the torn cardboard, crumpled sheets of old newspaper spilled out—a sight Kenta stared at with eyes entirely devoid of emotion.

In his hand, his smartphone vibrated lowly, announcing an incoming call from his father. Setting the utility knife on the floor, Kenta tapped the screen and pressed the phone to his ear.

"―Hello, Kenta? Did all the luggage arrive safely?"

His father's voice through the speaker was calm as usual, but it carried a businesslike, detached resonance, almost like that of a stranger. Ever since his father had been transferred alone to a factory in Kyushu, their conversations had always been this way.

"...Yeah. Mostly cleaned up."

Kenta replied shortly, bluntly. Leaning his back against the wall, he firmly stepped on the blade of the utility knife he had dropped at his feet with the tip of his indoor slipper.

"I see. I handled the gas and water procedures from this end online, so you should be able to use them from today without any issues. I've deposited this month's living expenses and rent into that account, so make sure to check it. Let me know if it's not enough."

"I know. I don't really spend that much anyway."

"...Kenta, regarding your mother's matter, I know I've truly put you through a lot of hardship. I'm sorry for making things so chaotic with the divorce procedures and the move. But rather than having you stay alone in that house, I thought this apartment closer to your school would make life easier for you."

"I've heard enough about that."

Kenta said with a slightly thorny voice, cutting off his father's words. Through the phone, a sense of his father momentarily losing his words was conveyed.

"There's no need for you to worry about every single thing, Dad. Aren't you busy with work?"

"...Ah, yes, that's true. I have to be on-site from early tomorrow morning as well. I'm truly sorry, but it doesn't look like I'll be able to return to Tokyo for a while. If you ever have any trouble, call me immediately."

"Yeah. Well, I'm hanging up."

Without waiting for his father's reply, he cut the call, and the room was instantly enveloped in its original silence.

Throwing his smartphone onto the sofa, Kenta walked over to a slightly cloudy full-length mirror in the corner of the living room to change into his house clothes.

Reflected in the mirror was a boy with an unremarkable, plain countenance that could not be called handsome even as flattery. He was somewhat fleshy, with a slightly thick waistline.

He pulled off his black T-shirt and cast away his jeans.

When he was down to a single pair of thin trunks, the front portion was unseasonably large and rounded, dragging the fabric heavily downward. Whether it simply looked that way because of his slightly plump physique, or something else.

Handling it as though dealing with an obstructive piece of meat, Kenta carelessly shoved it from above with his hand to adjust its position. This "habit" of quickly changing clothes as if to avoid the gaze of others had become deeply ingrained into the young man's daily life. No one in class possessed any interest in him. An existence akin to mere background scenery, remaining in no one's memory. That was precisely the most convenient positioning he had acquired within the space of the school.

The university Kenta attended was an engineering college filled with nothing but uncouth men. The concrete school buildings were somehow dingy, and the hallways were always saturated with the odor of dust and sweat. The new classes that had begun upon becoming a first-year university student were also filled with a bleak atmosphere and utter boredom.

And the following day.

"Hey, did you hear? That girl from the other university over at the Mac in front of the station—her visuals were seriously so good it was glitched."

"Seriously? You saw her?"

"Hell yeah. Fair-skinned, slim, and her legs were insanely thin. Her style was god-tier, for real. It'd be the best if I could date a girl that cute."

After class, at the back of the classroom, a group of mischievous-looking guys sat on the desks, boisterously conversing about such topics. To them, the world seemed to revolve solely around symbolized "cuteness," like those on the other side of a screen, and immediate petty squabbles.

In a corner of the classroom slightly removed from their conversation, Kenta was quietly packing his textbooks into his bag. Everyone paid absolutely no mind to Kenta. As a harmless presence, Kenta was silently preparing to head home. Just then, Shota Suzuki, a member of the baseball club who took the same class, called out to him with a carefree smile. Suzuki was a mood-maker, a fundamentally bright guy who treated even plain fellows like Kenta without any discrimination.

"Tanaka, you're at the top of the math class again. How do you even study?"

"No... it's just that what I happened to review yesterday came up on the test."

Kenta scratched his head with a subservient grin, muddling his words as if performing his usual act of a "quiet, timid fat guy."

"Oh, come on now. Teach me math next time, alright? Well, I've got club activities, so I'm heading out first!"

"Yeah, good luck with club."

Suzuki left the classroom while energetically waving his hand.

Watching that back leave, Kenta instantly wiped the subservient smile from his face. Stealthily checking that there was no one around, he阴湿ly kicked the chair of the neighboring desk—which Suzuki had left carelessly pulled out—with the tip of his sneaker, sending it back in with a soft tink. Then, he snapped his own notebook shut with a slightly forceful thud.

Everyone appeared to be spending their unvarying student lives merrily with nothing but subservient grins, but to Kenta, their innocence seemed somehow hypocritical, or dreadfully shallow. As a harmless existence, Kenta quietly left the classroom behind.

Class ended at three o'clock, and Kenta returned to his apartment without making any detours. The time was just past four in the afternoon, but outside, a hot wind containing a stifling moisture was blowing through; it was a heat that caused sweat to ooze onto the nape of one's neck just by walking.

Walking down the quiet interior hallway, he took out his key in front of his room. It was an ordinary apartment with no distinct characteristics, but the doors of the surrounding rooms were all tightly shut, with absolutely no sign of any residents.

Entering his room, he locked the door.

With a heavy metallic clunk, absolute silence returned. A room belonging solely to Kenta, entirely devoid of an adult's gaze.

Casting away his uniform, Kenta lay down on the bed and picked up his smartphone. With no particular aim, he opened the TikTok app, using his thumb to swipe through the videos displayed on his recommendations one after another. Pausing his finger on a video of a young woman dancing a trendy dance that emphasized her chest and thighs, Kenta stared intently at it on the bed, muttering a lonely monologue: "...Hmph, she looks stupid, but her body alone is seriously erotic." Then, he switched to trivial, funny videos every few seconds. Next, he opened YouTube, casually skimming through several videos from channels he subscribed to. Setting aside the clamorous laughter on the other side of the screen, Kenta's heart remained cold as he merely stared lazily at the screen like a typical university student just to kill time.

As he stayed holed up in his room, spending his time staring lazily at the smartphone screen, it had become completely dark outside. Before he knew it, the time had passed 9:00 PM. Due to the muggy air, his skin became faintly damp with sweat even while staying still.

Taking the rumbling of his stomach as his cue to get up from the bed, he boiled instant ramen in the dimly lit kitchen and carried it to the living room table. Beyond the rising steam, his smartphone, which had been tossed carelessly aside, blinked with a short notification sound.

Looking at the screen, a message from Suzuki was displayed.

Today's math print is seriously gibberish. Tanaka, come over to my house after school the day after tomorrow and teach me! I'll treat you to something delicious!

Kenta stared at the screen with cold eyes while snapping his disposable chopsticks open.

(After school the day after tomorrow, huh. There are rumors that Suzuki's family is reasonably wealthy even within the local area, and if I become friendly with a popular guy like this at least on the surface, it might be convenient for various things in my school life moving forward.)

From such calculation, Kenta's fingertips typed entirely different words upon the screen.

Sure. I'll visit your house after school the day after tomorrow then, Suzuki-kun. Looking forward to being treated to delicious food.

Attaching a friendly emoji to the end of the sentence, he sent it, and it was instantly marked as read. While responding amiably on the surface, Kenta directed a cold, somewhat exasperated gaze toward the bottomless brightness of the man named Suzuki, who seemed to possess not a single worry or shadow.

It was exactly when he was about to bring a mouthful of noodles to his lips.

From beyond the wall bordering the neighboring room, a dull impact sound—thud—echoed. Following that, the faint sound of something heavy being dragged was communicated. As long as it did not disturb his time alone, it was merely the background noise of daily life.

Finishing his ramen, Kenta cleaned the dishes in the sink and lay down on the bed again, beginning to watch videos on his smartphone. Before he knew it, about an hour had passed, and the time approached 10:00 PM.

From the entryway of his quiet room, a high-pitched ding-dong of the chime suddenly rang out.

Who could it be at this hour?

Feeling suspicious, Kenta peered through the doorscope and then slowly unlocked the door.

"Ah, sorry for the late hour..."

When he opened the door, a family of strangers was standing there.

A thin, bony middle-aged man with a loosened tie and a somewhat worn-out expression. Behind him stood a eldest daughter of around first-year university age who was boredly fiddling with her smartphone, and a restless eldest son of around nine years old.

And standing right in the center of them was a woman who appeared to be the mother.

"We just moved into room 302 next door today; our name is Takahashi. About an hour ago, we made a lot of loud, rattling noises... Really, we should have come to greet you immediately, but things were chaotic with unpacking, and it ended up being this late. We are truly sorry for causing you trouble."

The thin master of the house continued speaking while scratching his head in an apologetic manner.

"Man, moving at this age really takes a toll on the body. Just a moment ago, I bumped the wardrobe... Since it's late and frantic, are your parents already asleep? I thought it would be a shame if we woke them up."

Kenta switched his expression in an instant, floating a well-bred, slightly bashful smile.

"Ah, no, it's fine. Due to my parents' work circumstances, I live here alone. So I don't mind it at all."

"Oh, a university student living alone? How admirable. Our foolish daughter won't even clean her own room properly, doing nothing but looking at her smartphone."

When the master grumbled so, the eldest daughter of around Kenta's age standing behind him suddenly and silenty kicked the master's leg with all her might. From the pain, the master let out a pathetic voice—"Ah, ouch..."—jumping slightly and stealing a timid, frightened glance at his daughter's face, but the eldest daughter casually averted her eyes, deciding to completely ignore him. From the unsettling atmosphere flowing between the two and the mother watching over it with anxious eyes, the deep-rooted feud harbored by this family was quietly oozing out into the narrow entryway. The master pathetically shrugged his shoulders and continued speaking toward Kenta with a cramped smile.

"Well, because of that, if you ever have any trouble, don't hesitate to say so since we're right next door."

"Thank you very much. I'm happy for your kind words."

An explicitly quiet, polite, pleasant young man of the neighborhood. Behind that perfect acting, Kenta's sharp gaze captured the body of the married woman standing beside the master, as if stickily sizing her up. Opposite to those thin young women his classmates pursued, the mass of a genuine "woman" existed right there.

She was a woman of short stature. However, her fleshiness was astonishingly voluptuous.

Within the muggy summer night air, the thin summer knit she wore absorbed sweat, slightly clinging to her skin. Asserting an overwhelming presence as if powerfully pushing that fabric from the inside was the swelling of unbelievably massive breasts. Even across her clothing, it was apparent that the underwire of her underwear was digging deeply into her flesh, and that heavy-looking mass of meat joltingly altered its shape and shook every time she bowed.

"This is truly a cheap item, but please use it."

The married woman smiled with a slightly flushed face, offering a box of towels.

The moment he received it, Kenta's fingertips faintly brushed against the flesh of her palm—somewhat rough from housework, but carrying the soft, moist, thick texture unique to smooth skin.

At that split second, a dense, male stench resembling somewhat rotten raw squid drifting from the depths of the room grazed the nasal cavities of the woman who appeared to be the mother. Whether a trick of her imagination, she experienced a faint dizziness for an instant as if her blood pressure had suddenly risen, but because the Kenta before her eyes was floating an utterly innocent boyish smile, she reconsidered it as a trick of her mind and smiled back.

"Thank you very much. Since I live alone, this helps immensely."

Kenta smiled as an explicitly innocent student.

Having finished the greetings, the thin master urged the children, turning around while saying, "Well, good night. Sorry for disturbing you."

The instant the married woman turned her back following him, Kenta's eyes became nailed to her rear.

On the back side of the thin summer knit, the line of a wide band (strap) of a large bra, digging deeply into her thick back meat, emerged distinctly. Furthermore, pushing open the fabric of her well-worn, tight-fitting slacks roundly and clumsily from the inside was the heavily thick, large swelling of buttocks unique to a mature woman. Every time she walked, that weighty meat jolted heavily to the left and right, and the continuation of that gentle fleshiness down to the back of her thighs emerged rawly within the light of the dimly lit interior hallway.

"Excuse me," she said, bowing deeply once more. Kenta watched her cleavage and the mass of her gigantic buttocks shaking as she turned back, as if burning them onto his retina.

The door closed, and a heavy metallic clunk echoed once again.

Within the room that had returned to absolute silence, Kenta stood quietly.

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