My Twin Stepsisters Are Way Too Yandere!

Chapter 195: Chapter 194 - House Full of Stories

The skies were blue, and there were gentle breezes in the spring.

The wedding had been everything that Kuro and Rika wished.

Small.

Warm.

Their family members had been there, along with Akari, Aoi, Mina, Yui, and Minami.

There was nothing grandiose in the decoration and celebrity guests.

Just jokes and sincere congratulations from all of those who had seen how Kuro and Rika fell in love with each other over years.

After the ceremony, Akari cried dramatically.

"I cannot believe that our silent Kuro got married!"

Aoi corrected his glasses.

"The probabilities were rather high."

"You are spoiling the atmosphere."

Mina gave a smile.

"I think they look great together."

Yui gave a soft smile while looking at the newlyweds.

"I am happy for both of them."

Minami folded her arms with proudness.

"My students have grown."

Kuro and Rika exchanged a look and then laughed.

Even in their wedding day...

Their friends haven’t changed anything.

---

A month later...

The couple stood in front of the two-floor house in a rather quiet residential area.

Rika was holding the key in both hands.

"...Are you ready?"

Kuro nodded.

"Let’s go together."

She unlocked the front door.

The house was absolutely empty.

Sunlight was shining brightly through the windows.

Their steps resonated softly on the wooden floor.

Rika slowly walked inside the living room.

"...It is ours."

Kuro smiled.

"Yes."

They didn’t say a word for a long time.

They were standing in the center of their new house and thinking about the years that will come and fill it.

---

Arrangement of the house took much more time than expected.

Not because of the furniture.

Because of the books.

Psychology textbooks.

Counseling journals.

Research papers.

Art books.

Manga collections.

Sketchbooks.

Reference materials.

When the moving company unloaded everything, one of them scratched his head.

"Do you plan to open a library?"

Rika laughed.

"No."

"We are opening a marriage."

Worker was confused.

Kuro apologized quietly.

---

Within two weeks...

The house wasn’t new anymore.

It was lived.

In the dining table constantly lay manuscript pages.

In the sofa were placed three sketchbooks and two psychology journals.

Coffee cups randomly appeared in all rooms.

Sticky notes were covering the refrigerator.

The whole wall in one hallway became Rika’s "ideas wall."

All the spaces of this wall were covered with colorful sticky notes.

Kuro looked at this wall once.

"...Don’t we have any wallpaper under this?"

"I don’t know honestly."

---

Every morning was absolutely identical.

Kuro woke up first.

He was preparing breakfast and reading the morning news.

In a few minutes...

Rika descended to the kitchen with mess hair and sleepy eyes.

She sat at the table.

"...Good morning."

"Good morning."

She ate one bite of toast.

Then suddenly she stopped.

"Kuro."

"Hm?"

"I have thought about a new Chapter."

She quickly rose up and ascended upstairs.

Toast remained untouched on the plate.

Kuro looked at it.

"...Once again."

Five minutes later, he took the breakfast upstairs.

Predictably...

She was sitting there and drawing.

Without turning her face from the paper, she opened her mouth.

Kuro smiled and offered the toast.

She took a bite while still drawing.

"...Thank you."

"I should start getting my editing fee."

"You already are getting it."

"With what?"

"With my love."

"...Awful business."

Rika burst into laughter and almost dropped her pen.

---

At the meantime, Kuro’s counseling clinic slowly acquired fame in the neighborhood.

People liked his calm attitude and attentive listening.

Every evening Kuro returned from the clinic with the notebook where he was writing his thoughts.

Rika never asked any confidential information.

She always asked the same question.

"...How are you feeling?"

Not...

"How was your work?"

But...

"How are you?"

Kuro liked this difference.

"Tired."

She smiled.

"Sit here please."

---

One evening, after dinner, Rika suddenly stood in the center of the living room.

"I have an idea!"

Kuro lifted his head from the psychology journal.

"What kind?"

"My heroine accidentally adopts a stray cat."

He nodded.

"Okay."

"The cat will secretly change everyone’s life."

"I see."

"The rival falls in love with her thanks to the cat."

"...Interesting."

"The grandfather will start to bake bread."

Kuro blinked.

"Thanks to the cat?"

"...Perhaps."

She started to walk in the room dramatically.

"The baker will be the final antagonist."

Kuro listened quietly.

For almost thirty minutes.

She was connecting some ideas which made absolutely no sense logically.

Changed the ending four times.

Added six new characters.

Killed one of them.

Returned this character back.

Finally...

She stopped.

"...What do you think?"

Kuro closed the notebook.

"I think..."

She leaned forward expecting something.

"...the cat is unnecessary."

Silence.

Then Rika stared at him.

"...You are right."

She immediately crossed the cat out.

Kuro smiled.

"You always understand finally."

"Because I let you speaking."

---

Several weeks later, the newest serial Chapter of Rika was published.

Kuro took the magazine during his lunch break.

Having read halfway of the Chapter...

He stopped reading.

The married couple in the story was surprisingly familiar.

The husband silently cooked breakfast.

The wife forgot eating while drawing.

The whole house was filled with books.

Coffee cups suddenly appeared everywhere.

Even the dialogues seemed familiar.

That evening Kuro came to the house having the magazine in hands.

"...Rika."

She raised her head innocently.

"Yes?"

He opened the Chapter.

"...Is it us?"

She looked at the pages.

"Oh."

"...Perhaps."

"Perhaps?"

"I borrow inspirations."

"You copied our breakfast conversations word for word."

She smiled proudly.

"It was tested with success."

Kuro sighed trying not to laugh.

"Our marriage has become a research material now?"

She approached to him and hugged gently.

"My favorite stories..."

She put her head on his shoulder.

"...always start in our house."

Kuro wrapped his arms around her.

Looking around the living room, he saw many manuscript pages, psychology books, coffee cups waiting to be cleaned, and dozens of colorful sticky notes covering all the walls.

For anyone...

It looked wonderfully chaotic.

For him...

It looked like happiness.

Unfinished manuscript pages.

Open textbooks.

Half-finished talks.

Ordinary days...

Together they created something that cannot be explained neither by psychology nor by storytelling.

House filled not only with books and ideas...

But with love, laughter, and lots of stories waiting to be written.

Sunday mornings have become something special for both of them.

They did not have any clients coming to Kuro’s clinic until the afternoon.

There were no meetings about the newspaper edition Rika had to prepare.

There were no deadlines waiting impatiently to be completed.

Well...

As long as it was supposed to happen.

The smell of fresh coffee spread in the whole house while Kuro cooked breakfast.

He was humming happily and preparing pancakes.

After some time, soft steps were heard from the stairs.

Rika walked to the kitchen wrapped in one of Kuro’s sweaters, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

Yawning.

"...Good morning."

"Good morning."

She leant against his back without any other words.

Kuro smiled warmly.

"Sleepy still?"

She nodded.

"Just five more minutes."

"You have been asleep for three hours already."

"Then two more."

He chuckled.

"Breakfast will be ready very soon."

"I will wake up for pancakes."

"You always do."

---

The kitchen table looked very tidy.

Just two coffee mugs, two breakfast plates, and the morning newspaper lay on it.

Rika looked around suspiciously.

"...There is something wrong."

"What?"

"The table."

"It looks very tidy."

"Exactly."

She faked surprise.

"...Where are my manuscripts?"

"I have organized them yesterday."

"...Why?"

"To be able to have breakfast."

She sighed dramatically.

"I am married to someone who beats my artistic disorder all the time."

"You make it sound like I have done something bad."

"It is."

She smiled sweetly.

"Sometimes."

---

Somewhere in the middle of their breakfast, inspiration stroke.

Rika sat up abruptly.

"Kuro."

"Hm?"

"The father in my manga should not be strict."

He patiently spread butter on his pancake.

"He should be awkward."

She kept going.

"He loves his daughter very much."

"But he does not know how to show it."

Kuro nodded.

"That is realistic enough."

"He tries."

"But everything he does seems awkward and ridiculous."

She laughed heartily and grabbed the closest sketchbook.

Unknowingly, she started drawing.

Kuro watched her with a gentle smile.

"Your pancakes are getting cold."

She unconsciously opened her mouth.

Without a word, Kuro raised his fork and offered her a bite.

She swallowed it while keeping on drawing.

After several seconds, she stopped abruptly.

"...Did you just feed me?"

"You were too busy."

She looked down at her sketchbook.

And then at him.

A gentle smile appeared on her face.

"I do not think I will ever get used to how effortlessly you do things like that."

Kuro shrugged.

"To me it seemed quite natural."

"Maybe."

She gently reached across the table and grabbed his hand.

"But small gestures..."

"They become those memories I cherish."

For a moment, nobody said anything.

Sunlight filled the kitchen through the kitchen window creating a soft golden glow in the room.

In the world outside, neighborhood was waking up.

But in the kitchen, there was nothing but turning pages and quiet clinks of coffee mugs.

Rika glanced at what she had just drawn.

Awkward father in her story offered his daughter a burnt pancake with a shy smile on his face.

She laughed softly.

"Kuro."

"Hm?"

"Just realized something."

"What?"

"I keep borrowing details of our life."

Kuro looked at her drawing and smiled.

"As long as it makes people smile..."

"I feel honored to become a part of the story."

Rika closed the sketchbook and leant her head on his shoulder.

"No."

She whispered with a soft smile.

"You are not a part of the story."

"You are the reason for it."