Chapter 2 - Angry Wife
Kasumi was worried about Ryuji.
On her way home, she let out a sigh, driving with her things stowed in the passenger seat. Was he perhaps concerned about income? She knew he had clearly stated he was frustrated when her salary surpassed his. But even though he did seem genuinely vexed, his eyes had never looked so empty. Kasumi had always appreciated how Ryuji didn’t hide his more negative feelings. He didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t, and she loved being with someone who was honest to that degree.
She had first met Ryuji in college.
The first time she noticed him was when she whimsically attended a lecture she no longer needed to go to, and saw him in the front row, nodding attentively to the professor. Since they shared the same major and department, they occasionally exchanged messages through an app, but unlike the other men who pursued her, he never texted more than necessary. Oddly enough, this made her curious about him.
After that, she asked him out on a date. They spent time together at various places—dinners, movies, aquariums, shopping—and she gradually found herself falling for him.
Ryuji had a humility that bordered on self-deprecation, yet he was kinder than anyone else she knew.
Whether it was asking him out, confessing her feelings, or taking things to a more intimate level, she had always been the one to make the first move. And she didn’t mind that at all.
Kasumi loved Ryuji for respecting and accepting her just as she was.
When they were both job-hunting, she once turned to him for advice. She remembered voicing her worries about applying to a company that was unstable, wondering if it would be wiser to aim for a large corporation. It was mostly venting, if anything.
He simply listened until she finished and, with a gentle smile, said, "I don’t know which choice is better, but I want to support whatever you want to do."
Ryuji never tried to advise her from above but stood beside her, sharing his thoughts with her as an equal.
Kasumi felt that it was his words then that led her to where she was now.
When their daughter Akari was born, and even afterward, Ryuji always put her and Akari’s needs ahead of his own.
She couldn’t help but feel proud whenever her colleagues or seniors at work griped about their husbands, and then envied her for Ryuji.
Kasumi respected Ryuji deeply. She saw a value in him that couldn’t be measured by his annual income, and she loved him for it.
On top of that, Ryuji was an outstanding professional. He had joined a large corporation right out of college, saying he didn’t have anything specific he wanted to pursue, and quickly adapted, rising to the level of section manager. Now that she herself had reached an executive position, Kasumi understood that for someone like Ryuji—who didn’t play into the social drinking culture—to be promoted so swiftly, it meant he was truly trusted.
Ryuji humbly brushed off his rank, saying he’d likely stay at the section manager level, but Kasumi knew how hard it was to climb the corporate ladder in a large company, especially one with a strict hierarchy. As someone who occasionally dealt with the high-ranking executives of such firms, she knew how rigid their minds tended to be. Ryuji’s ability to thrive in such an environment made her admire him even more.
For all these reasons, Kasumi was worried about Ryuji lately. Worried about his mental state, primarily.
Right after Akari was born and both of them returned from parental leave, she had been concerned about Ryuji’s physical well-being as he juggled both work and nearly all the household chores. She felt she should be doing her part, but she’d grown accustomed to coming home to a tidy house, a warm meal, her adorable daughter, and her beloved husband, who had dinner ready and would have everything cleaned up before she even realized it. Her happiness had led her to rely too much on Ryuji.
However, while she was wrestling with this guilt, Ryuji had adapted to balancing work and household duties perfectly. Sure, their daughter was now easier to care for than she had been as an infant, but Ryuji’s adaptability still amazed her.
Kasumi found herself even more smitten with him, seeing how he seamlessly handled chores without a trace of laziness after work.
Recently, Ryuji had taken to watching TV leisurely when she came home, which made her feel relieved.
She noticed something strange just last week.
That day, as she called out her usual “I’m home,” there was no reply. It wouldn’t be surprising if Akari was already asleep by then, but Ryuji’s silence was unusual.
When she walked into the living room, there he was, flipping channels with vacant eyes.
In all the years they’d been together, Kasumi had never seen him look like that.
Since that day, she began watching him closely and noticed small things were off here and there.
First, he’d stopped talking about himself. While Ryuji had never been one to discuss himself at length, he’d never been this silent about his own life.
She also noticed he’d become concerned about his body odor, just as he’d been when they’d first started dating.
Ryuji had always been self-conscious about his scent, but Kasumi had never once found him unpleasant. While he did sweat a bit more than others, she actually liked his scent and loved being held by him.
When she’d first invited him to be intimate, Ryuji had touched her gently and timidly. Even when she asked him to hold her, to kiss her, he wouldn’t respond.
When she asked why, he had told her he was dirty. That he smelled. That he didn’t want to taint her.
Kasumi had felt a surge of anger.
Knowing Ryuji’s gentle yet self-deprecating nature, she assumed he had internalized some offhand comment someone had made about his odor.
She had whispered to him repeatedly, "You don’t smell, you’re not dirty, I love you." Each time she said it, Ryuji would laugh a little, tickled yet happy, and the sight of him smiling made her heart race. She recalled that eventually, after her continual whispers, Ryuji began to open up and meet her desires.
She’d felt relieved, as if she had lifted some curse off him.
Even after they were married and after Akari was born, the fact that Ryuji still held her close was, to her, proof of his trust.
So seeing him worry about his body odor again was a shock. Had someone at work said something?
Come to think of it, Ryuji had never really complained about anything. He rarely talked about himself, as mentioned, but when he faced something negative, he would often internalize the blame.
Most likely, he was blaming himself. This wasn’t the first time.
Kasumi remembered the comments she used to receive when she started dating the quiet Ryuji—comments about how unexpected or mismatched they seemed. If she, as his girlfriend, received those remarks, Ryuji must have been subjected to harsher words. Once, he had even suggested breaking up.
“I’ll never be good enough for you,” he had told her.
Kasumi had been furious, yelling at him for saying such a thing, crying and screaming that she hadn’t fallen in love with him for his worthiness. Ryuji had just stood there, stunned, and her anger had only grown at his bewilderment, making the situation harder to resolve.
She wished she had made it clearer then that Ryuji was irreplaceable to her.
Does he realize how rare it is in this world to have a husband who handles work, parenting, and household duties flawlessly, who listens to both his wife’s and daughter’s stories with a smile? Even the car she was driving now was a much larger, more luxurious model than the one Ryuji drove.
When they had discussed buying a car, he had insisted that she, a capable and beautiful executive, deserved something better, and she ended up with a vehicle far beyond what she’d imagined. Her husband, who drove a modest, compact car, had even complimented her on how well the larger car suited her. She had to make him realize what a wonderful person he truly was.
Kasumi tightened her grip on the steering wheel. It would still be a bit longer before she got home, but the loving anger she felt toward her husband was growing with each mile.