"Brother, how long till the food is ready?"
Haruka asked impatiently, her eyes drifting from her phone to where Haruto was busy at the counter, chopping vegetables with swift, deliberate motions.
From her seat, she could only see his back, the rhythmic sound of the knife hitting the cutting board mixed with the faint sizzle from the stove.
Another strange sound seemed to come from the kitchen, but it was muffled by the cooking noises.
"Just a little longer... be patient," Haruto replied, his voice tight, though he didn't turn around.
His grip on the knife tightened as he diced the carrots and onions a little more aggressively.
"Fine," Haruka muttered, shrugging as she shifted her attention back to her phone, scrolling lazily through her feed.
As soon as Haruka looked away, Haruto bent down slightly, lowering his voice. "You hear that, Mother? If you don't finish soon, we're going to have a problem."
"Mmmph... Nnngh..."
Chiyo could only respond with muffled moans, her mouth full of his cock.
Haruto's hand gripped her hair, his fingers twisting through the strands as he thrust her head forward.
"You've got to do it like this to satisfy me. Then, I'll give you what you want," he muttered, guiding her rhythm faster.
Saliva dribbled from the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin and onto the floor as her lips stretched around him.
Haruto's breath hitched, his tip hitting the back of her throat with each thrust. Her mouth tightened and convulsed around him, sending jolts of pleasure up his spine, making it hard for him to stop.
"Fuck... your mouth feels like a pussy, Mother." he groaned, gripping her head harder.
"You love this, don't you? Sucking me off in front of your daughter like the little slut you are."
Chiyo's eyes widened slightly as she felt him release, his cock twitching between her lips.
She swallowed quickly, sucking down every drop as her body shook with her own pent-up need.
But it wasn't enough for her. She craved more—needed more.
However, they couldn't continue, Haruto's body stiffened as his father's slurred voice filled the room, cutting through the tense silence.
"Is the food not ready yet? Hurry up, useless!"
Akihito staggered into the living room, his steps unsteady from alcohol. He threw himself onto the sofa, letting out a sigh of contempt.
Haruto's grip on the knife tightened, his knuckles white. He exchanged a brief glance with Chiyo, who remained quiet, waiting until the moment passed.
She discreetly rose from beneath the kitchen counter, her eyes avoiding Akihito as she helped Haruto finish preparing dinner.
As they quietly placed the food on the dining table, Haruto felt the familiar knot of frustration tightening in his chest.
They all waited, as always, for Akihito to sit before they could eat.
It was a routine that made his skin crawl—being the one who worked tirelessly for their livelihood while his father remained the commanding presence as if they all still had to respect him.
His mood soured further as he glanced at Akihito, slumped in his chair, shoveling food into his mouth with barely any acknowledgment.
'I need to get rid of him from this house at some point.' His mind raced with anger. 'That man is unbearable.'
Haruto's respect for his father had withered away long ago. Akihito's descent into alcoholism, his abuse, and the horror of how he dared to even lay hands on Haruka—those memories haunted Haruto.
He couldn't stand the fact that this man still held power over them, a power born not out of love or leadership, but out of fear.
'Why did he even leave this house in the first place?'
Haruto's mind burned with resentment as they sat in the suffocating silence, waiting for the moment when he could act.