Chapter 106: Mischievous Yuki, Big Brother Returns Home Again

Because Noritomo Aikawa was eager to deliver Nobu Kurosawa’s compromising photos to his grandfather, Jūrō Aikawa, Hidenobu Aoyama did not linger long and soon took his leave.

He had already instructed Yūji Yamada to keep an eye on the Tokyo District Public Prosecutors Office’s Special Investigation Division. Any movement from them would signal the commencement of the offensive against Nobu Kurosawa.

At this juncture, Hidenobu Aoyama was hardly in a position to kick Nobu Kurosawa when he was down, but he could take advantage of the chaos to deal with Kurosawa’s secretary, Genpei Hara. Once Kurosawa fell from power, no one would care about Hara’s fate; if he disappeared later, it would simply be assumed he fled.

A gentleman’s revenge can wait ten years.

But Hidenobu Aoyama was not a gentleman, nor did he have the patience to wait a decade. Humiliated by day, he would repay the insult by night!

When he left the Aikawa residence, it was just past five o’clock—already the usual time for finishing work. Hidenobu Aoyama didn’t bother going to the Metropolitan Police Department afterward; instead, he headed straight home.

Munemasa Aoyama should have arrived home by then.

He also needed to prepare himself—take a shower, change clothes—and be ready to visit the Asai household that evening.

After standing by the roadside for a while without finding a taxi, he reluctantly opted to take the train.

Since it was rush hour, the train was crowded. Leveraging his broad, imposing stature—like a double-door refrigerator—he easily pushed past the small-statured commuters, maneuvering through the throng to stand firmly in the middle of the car.

From this vantage point, he surveyed the crowd below.

“Excuse me, please make room, sorry.”

“Ah! Who stepped on me?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Everyone was packed tightly, uttering polite apologies and words of inconvenience even as they shoved unceremoniously inward.

It was like this country itself—pleasantries spoken outwardly, but with actions far less courteous.

“Yuki?”

Hidenobu Aoyama suddenly spotted a familiar face.

It was none other than Yuki Uchida. No matter where a beauty appeared, she was always the first to catch the eye.

Today, she wore a simple yet elegant outfit: a white blouse hugged her ample, rounded chest, while a black pleated mini-skirt barely covered her thighs. Two sheer black thigh-high stockings left a swath of pale skin exposed between skirt and sock—a youthful vigor undeniable.

“Ah! It’s Shūshin-niisan!” Yuki Uchida, just boarding and struggling to squeeze inside, instinctively looked up when someone called her name. She immediately spotted Hidenobu Aoyama towering well above the others.

Seeing her struggle, Aoyama brusquely waved his hand, pushing aside several shorter commuters blocking her way.

The little commuters bristled in anger at first, about to protest, but upon seeing Aoyama’s formidable presence, they quickly deflated, apologizing profusely as they stepped aside: “Sorry, we didn’t mean to trouble you.”

“Come here,” Aoyama generously forgave them and extended a hand to Yuki Uchida.

She hesitated briefly before placing her small hand in his. Almost instantly, her feet left the ground, and when she came to, she was standing before him, no longer by the door.

“Shūshin-niisan, you’re so strong!” Yuki Uchida blinked several times before turning to look at him with admiration sparkling in her eyes.

Aoyama grasped the handrail, glanced down at her, and smiled. “Maybe you’re just too light.”

Not only am I strong, but I’m also well-endowed in other ways.

“No way,” Yuki Uchida pouted, revealing a playful, childlike demeanor. At 1.65 meters, she was tall among Japanese women, and not exactly light in weight.

As the train lurched forward, everyone swayed in unison. Yuki Uchida stumbled and fell into Aoyama’s arms. She glanced up shyly, then steadied herself.

The car was packed tight like a can of sardines, bodies pressed close. As the carriage rocked, Aoyama could feel Yuki Uchida’s back against him, her movements subtle and teasing.

Her skirt’s hem pressed repeatedly against him, a delicate, suggestive friction.

No wonder so many Japanese games and films feature train scenes—they really do provide the conditions!

Yuki Uchida’s cheeks flushed faintly. Her body stiffened at first, her mind swirling, her grip on the handrail tightening.

But when she noticed Aoyama deliberately trying to pull away, creating distance between them, a mischievous smile curved her lips. She deliberately rubbed her body against his again.

Hee hee, Shūshin-niisan is really such a gentleman.

Feeling the frequency of contact increase, Aoyama initially thought nothing of it, assuming the crowd was just too dense and that he could avoid making Yuki Uchida uncomfortable.

But soon he realized something was amiss. Every time he stepped back, she followed, deliberately brushing against him, seemingly experimenting with different pressures and rhythms.

She was almost entirely pressed into his embrace; he could even feel the clasp of her bra.

Aoyama glanced down, his height advantage revealing every expression on her face—the playful smile, the gleam of excitement and teasing in her eyes.

Damn!

On the surface, she appeared demure and obedient, but inside lived a little devil. He had seen this kind of character before.

“Smack!”

Yuki Uchida shivered, abruptly turning to glare at Aoyama with a mixture of shame and irritation, but quickly lowered her head, her ears reddening.

“Yuki, don’t move around, no more mischief.”

Hearing Aoyama’s voice near her ear, she felt both embarrassed and ashamed, cheeks burning, unable to look up, nervously fiddling with her toes inside her shoes.

At first, she only intended a harmless prank, but her body’s strange reactions drew her deeper into the game. She clamped her legs tightly and bit her lips.

“Why did you get off work so early today?” Aoyama, sensing the awkwardness, kindly broke the silence.

Yuki Uchida worked part-time at a flower shop and usually stayed late after Haruko Aoyama left in the afternoon.

“Haruko-oneesan said something came up and had me finish early. I’m heading to a friend’s place now,” Yuki replied instinctively.

“Are you used to the flower shop by now?”

“Yes, Haruko-oneesan is very kind. Unless I become a big star, I’ll keep this job,” Yuki nodded earnestly.

Aoyama chuckled softly. “Well, I hope your dreams come true soon. Next time, I’ll bring a pen to get your autograph—otherwise, you might not have the chance later.”

“I have a pen! I can sign for you right now,” Yuki said, seemingly forgetting her earlier embarrassment. She turned to face Aoyama.

Standing so close, her rounded chest pressed against him, slightly compressed and reshaped, their breaths caught in unison.

The atmosphere grew awkward once more.

“Want me to sign, Shūshin-niisan?” Yuki asked calmly, as if nothing unusual had happened.

Aoyama nodded. “Yes.”

“Yay! I’ve practiced a lot, but no one’s ever asked me to sign before.” Eager, Yuki pulled a small notebook and pen from her bag and leaned against Aoyama’s chest to write.

When she finished, she tore the page off, waved it before him, then slipped it into his shirt pocket.

“Shūshin-niisan, you must keep it safe! Don’t worry—I’ll work hard to become famous!”

Yuki was brimming with enthusiasm.

“All right, then I’ll be your biggest fan from now on,” Aoyama teased playfully.

At that moment, the train reached the next station. As the doors opened, many passengers disembarked, and the once-crammed carriage suddenly felt much roomier.

“Shūshin-niisan, you were really hard just now~” Yuki whispered in Aoyama’s ear, then dashed off the train without looking back, waving happily. “Bye, Shūshin-niisan! I’m not a kid, so stop talking to me like that, it’s so annoying!”

The doors closed slowly.

Aoyama raised his middle finger in her direction.

Yuki stuck out her tongue and made a funny face.

……………………………………………

“I’m back.”

Hidenobu Aoyama said, changing his shoes.

“Ah, Shūshin is back,” Munemasa Aoyama responded with a start, a bit awkward.

Entering the living room, Hidenobu immediately spotted his elder brother sitting upright on the sofa but saw no sign of his sister-in-law. “Where’s the wife? Not here yet?”

“Arrived a few minutes before you, she’s upstairs changing clothes,” Munemasa replied, trying to muster the authority of the eldest brother and family head. But after the last brutal beating, he was deeply fearful of Hidenobu.

Hence, his current awkward demeanor.

“Brother, why are you sitting so stiffly? I’m not going to eat you,” Hidenobu joked.

I beat you for your own good.

Why are you still afraid of me?

“Am I?” Munemasa forced a casual smile, then cautiously laid back on the sofa, still watching Hidenobu closely. “Being home is where I can relax!”

Seeing his muscles tense as if ready to bolt anytime, Hidenobu found it hard to respond and said, “I’m going upstairs to shower and change.”

“Ah? Oh, okay, okay. Just… try to be quick, I have to rush back to Saitama for overtime later,” Munemasa suddenly sat upright again.

Hidenobu didn’t understand why a county assemblyman with no real power could be so busy but nodded in support and headed upstairs.

“Hoo—”

Only after Hidenobu went upstairs did Munemasa breathe a long sigh of relief. Then he scolded himself for lacking ambition. As the eldest brother and family head, how could he be afraid of the guy who dared lay hands on his brother?

He certainly didn't see himself as a coward.

In the end, he blamed not being a national legislator. If only he were a member of parliament, Hidenobu wouldn’t dare disrespect him.

He vowed that next time, in front of his wife, he would take revenge and beat that bastard senseless!

Only then would he reclaim his dignity as a husband.

When Hidenobu came downstairs, he saw his sister-in-law had changed into a pale lavender kimono, her jet-black hair elegantly pinned up. The kimono was embroidered with colorful flowers, giving her a gentle, refined air.

“All set, let’s go,” Munemasa said, picking up a gift bag nearby as he stood.

Though he disliked Hidenobu, he was a man of dignity. It was their first visit to the future sister-in-law’s home, so a gift was essential.

Hidenobu nodded and led the way outside.

“Hi!” Haruko Aoyama lowered her head slightly, taking small steps like a well-trained pet, following the two brothers. The wooden clogs clicked softly.

The three of them drove off toward the Asai residence.