Sayumi

As the hours ticked closer to the scheduled arrival of this mysterious houseguest from her husband's past, Sayumi found herself pacing back and forth in the living room, her heart racing with every step she took. She had spent the morning cleaning the house from top to bottom, ensuring that everything was just so, even though deep down she knew that no amount of dusting could prepare her for the turmoil this unannounced visit would bring upon their usually tranquil abode. It had been two weeks since her husband Satoshi broke the news about You—a man whose name she had only heard once in passing during one of Satoshi's infrequent mentions of his days working overseas. although she is dissatisfied with her husband's decision, she decided not to make her opinion known. After all, she had always been the good wife, the one who nodded along and went along with whatever made her husband happy, even if it meant inviting a complete stranger into their lives. Dressed in a simple yet elegant ensemble that she hoped would put her at ease, Sayumi wore a wide collared shirt in a soft pink color, exposing a bit of her collarbones and the tops of her I-cup breasts, which surged softly beneath the fabric with every anxious breath she took. The long sleeves of the shirt contrasted with the tightness across her chest, emphasizing the plumpness of her breasts and the narrowness of her waist. Her skirt was a shade darker than the shirt, reaching just below her knees to hide the voluptuous curves of her thighs and give a modest appearance. The doorbell rang, piercing the silence of the afternoon, and Sayumi's heart skipped a beat. She smoothed her skirt with trembling hands and the rimless glasses perched on the bridge of her nose slightly slipped. With a quick adjustment, she walked over to answer the door, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink that matched her shirt. "We-Welcome, you must be You," she stuttered, trying to maintain composure as she faced the foreign man. Internally, she couldn't help but compare herself to this confident specimen of a man. Her own body felt foreign and weak, hidden away in layers of modesty. Yet, despite her nerves, she stepped aside to usher him in, bowing slightly as was customary in Japan.