Chapter 81: Side Story - Mother (2)
Chapter 81: Side Story - Mother (2)
What did I just see?
I stood there for a while, rooted to the spot, even after Mother had gone back into the bathroom and closed the door.
Perhaps it was because I had almost never seen her naked in my entire life. I couldn't escape the image; I just stood there, dazed.
Naturally, the thought occurred to me that staying here would lead to unnecessary misunderstandings and that I needed to leave quickly, but...
I needed a considerable amount of time to recover from the shock.
And it was understandable.
Mother had always been that kind of person. Elegant, dignified, and full of grace.
She was someone to be respected rather than an object of affection, someone who was always difficult to approach.
Had I ever seen her naked before? I went back to my room and pondered the question.
"...Not even once."
I realized belatedly that there truly hadn't been a single time.
I thought there might have been at least once, but contrary to my expectations, there never was.
Mother was meticulous and obsessed with maintaining her dignity.
At home, she always wore clothes that were suitable for receiving guests rather than comfortable loungewear, and she had never once shown a disheveled appearance.
So, my shock was entirely justified.
Lying on my bed, I blankly retraced the scene I had witnessed.
The sight of Mother’s naked body—the first I’d ever seen—surpassed my imagination, even considering her age.
It made it easy to guess where my sisters' seductive figures came from; she was, quite literally, the epitome of femininity.
Those prominently large breasts, her smooth skin, her face clear of a single wrinkle, and even her slightly rounded lower belly that seemed like a lingering trace of childbirth.
Unable to easily forget the sight, I stared up at the ceiling while lying vacantly on the bed.
"...I'm such a piece of shit."
A rare curse escaped my lips. Recalling Mother’s naked body and ruminating on it was undeniably repulsive.
Other sons wouldn't be like this. The thought brought a wave of self-loathing, making me bite my lip.
Other sons would surely think nothing of it, even if they saw their mother naked.
No matter how well-maintained her body was, she was their mother, not a stranger.
So, even if they encountered the same situation as before, they would have quietly handed over the phone and returned to their rooms to continue whatever they were doing without a second thought.
But I couldn't. I couldn't even guess why.
Was it because I was an irredeemable pervert? Or was there some reason I didn't know about?
Was I actually a foundling or something?
"...That's impossible."
Thinking about it, there was no way. Yu-min and I took after Mother quite a bit, which was obvious just by looking in a mirror.
Then why on earth was I unable to forget and constantly replaying the image of the body of the woman who gave birth to me, my own flesh and blood?
Am I really a pervert?
I knew that dwelling on these thoughts wouldn't be good for me, but it wasn't something I could stop through sheer will alone.
What I needed was something to change the direction of my thoughts. I forced myself to think.
Right, it’s nothing special. Even if her figure makes you forget her age, she’s still my mother.
I am the son, and she is the mother. It’s only right that I, as her son, should feel nothing upon seeing her naked.
Therefore, retracing and savoring what I saw was not the thought process of a normal son.
I let out a long sigh, covering my face to pull myself together.
I blocked my vision, suppressed my imagination, and desperately pushed the thoughts down by thinking of other things.
It wasn't entirely useless. Since it was a routine I often practiced before fencing matches, I was able to re-examine the situation with a relatively clear head.
What exactly was that?
Now that I had calmed down, something felt off.
Mother always prioritized her dignity, insisting on high-end, well-fitting casual wear that was suitable for greeting guests even at home.
Even if she was in the middle of a shower, that behavioral pattern—which almost bordered on defensiveness—shouldn't have changed.
Normally, in a situation like earlier, Mother would have told me to leave the phone outside the door or to tell the caller she couldn't pick up and to call back in a few minutes. I would have complied and done just that.
Mother was strange today.
But why?
Unable to fathom the reason, I stared up at the ceiling, lying there blankly.
Nothing came to mind.
No matter how much I agonized over it, I couldn't find an answer, so I eventually fell asleep mid-thought.
For some reason, the White Goat Icon I had seen on Mother’s smartphone flickered in my mind.
I didn't know why that of all things occurred to me, though.
When I woke up around the dim hours of dawn, I could easily tell that Mother had been in my room.
My body, which had been sprawled haphazardly on the bed, was now lying straight, and the blanket I usually used was neatly tucked around me.
It was a truly grateful thing. Unlike me, who had been indulging in foul delusions about her, Mother had acted like a proper mother, as if nothing had happened despite being seen naked by her son.
Yes, this is how it should be. I stood up, rubbing my groggy head.
And as always, when I stepped out of my room, Mother was in the living room.
"Are you awake?"
"Ah, yes."
Amidst the bluish light of dawn filling the living room, Mother was reading a book with a small reading light on, perhaps out of consideration for me.
The light reflected off her reading glasses in two distinct hues. It was a truly characteristic sight for her.
However.
The clothes Mother was wearing felt a bit different from usual.
It wasn't something she couldn't wear to greet guests, but it was a tight-fitting dress, the kind a trendy young housewife might wear.
It didn't deviate entirely from her usual dress code, but it gave off a strange vibe.
But I didn't think it was a good idea to ask about it. I couldn't tell Mother what to wear, and it would be awkward for me to show interest, so I tried to let it go.
"A letter came for you."
"A letter?"
Mother stopped me and handed something over.
"...Ah."
The letter looked like something I didn't even want to open just by looking at the envelope.
With trembling hands, I took the letter, carefully tore it open, and looked inside.
[Active Duty Enlistment Notice]
"Ah..."
Under the title that elicited an involuntary groan, all sorts of text captured my gaze and every nerve in my body. The shock blew away everything—Mother’s new outfit, her gaze directed at me, the scene I saw yesterday, and all my inner turmoil.
If Mother hadn't been there, I would have reflexively spat out a curse. But her presence stopped me, and I closed the letter with the lingering discomfort of incomplete frustration.
"What kind of letter is it?"
Mother asked me quietly. I couldn't detect any rise or fall of emotion in her voice, but I understood because that was just how she was.
Rather, the fact that she didn't open the letter out of respect for my privacy and waited for me to tell her showed that she was a fair person, for better or worse.
She had always been that way.
I chewed on that thought once more before speaking.
"It's an enlistment notice. It says I'm enlisting in three months."
Suddenly, I remembered going for my physical examination with my friends about a year ago.
Well, since I had the exam and got Level 1, it was only natural for the draft notice to come.
It felt like shit all over again. As I clamped my mouth shut at the bitter memory, Mother took off her reading glasses, put them back in their case, and spoke.
"We'll have to start preparing."
"...I guess so."
There was a lot to do before enlisting. Going to fencing competitions was fine, but other things had to be handled in advance.
Things like a leave of absence, notifications, and so on.
"Let's start with the leave of absence. Take it one step at a time."
And fortunately, regardless of my confusion, Mother seemed fully prepared to help me.
"I looked into it beforehand; there are benefits you can receive related to the military, and there's a high-interest Military Savings Account. What do you think? Do you want to consider it?"
She was even thinking of things I hadn't even considered.
The Military Savings Account, smartphone plan issues, and various other things besides the leave of absence—there were parts that would have been much more troublesome without Mother’s help.
If I had tried to do it alone, I surely would have missed a few things or only found out about them much later.
In that sense, I was glad Mother was here. I accepted her suggestion with that thought, and Mother added with her usual expressionless face:
"Then, I'll give you a ride after breakfast, so why don't we handle everything today?"
"Oh, would that be okay? Isn't today your Pilates day...?"
"It's fine. I was planning on resting today anyway."
That was uncharacteristic of Mother, who often preached the importance of routines and daily schedules.
She was someone who was healthy without any minor ailments and would consistently go to exercise even on days when she wasn't feeling well.
The fact that such a mother was spending time for me didn't feel bad at all. It was at a level where I could even call it touching.
"Then... could I ask you to?"
Instead of answering, Mother suddenly reached out her hand.
I saw her hand slowly approaching. Her slender, slightly trembling hand passed my forehead, pushed my bangs back, and stopped.
The hand that smoothed back my messy hair from sleep passed my earlobe and softly brushed down my cheek before pulling away. I found myself staring at her in surprise.
"Go wash up. I'll have breakfast ready."
"O-Oh, okay."
Mother was exceptionally unlike herself today. Rather than her usual stoic aura, she seemed... more motherly.
That side of her was certainly awkward, but...
It wasn't bad.
So I stood up, gave Mother a brief glance, and walked away.
And the last thing I saw before entering the bathroom was Mother tightly clutching her smartphone in her left hand.
Was she searching for things a mother should do before her son enlists?
I entered the bathroom with that thought.
Thinking that Mother was strangely off today.