Harem Of The Oshika Clan - H058 Mihyou Family: Visit

H058 Mihyou Family: Visit

After school on Friday, I returned to the mansion and reviewed that day’s lessons, skimming Monday’s prep. I’ll likely forget it by Monday, so I’ll revisit it Sunday. I wanted to finish early since I’m staying over at the Mihyou family tonight.

Reiran-san, as part of the hosting family, went to the Mihyou estate ahead of me.

I was told no special preparations or clothes were needed—just casual wear—but showing up in sweats feels wrong, like I’m running to a convenience store. Still, overly formal attire might make them uncomfortable since they said “casual is fine.” A casual shirt and jeans should do.

I showered after changing. When I asked about clothes, Reiran-san said they’d wash them during “activities,” so no need to bring extras. At the Mihyou estate, I’ll probably be naked from shortly after arrival until morning, so rewearing clothes shouldn’t be an issue.

Out of the shower, I dressed properly. Usually, post-shower, I skip underwear and wear a gown or sweats, so putting on briefs feels oddly fresh. My sense of normalcy’s been reshaped by Oshika clan standards.

Back in the living room, I rang the handbell on the desk. Since I’m not just strolling the grounds but visiting another clan estate, I need to inform a maid. I’d rather call one here than search for them if I don’t see anyone by the entrance.

Soon, a knock. I answered, and Runa opened the door.

“Akira-sama, how may I serve you?”

Being called “-sama” by my sister still feels weird. I got used to it quickly with other clan women, but not her.

“I’m heading to the Mihyou family. I’ll be back around noon tomorrow, I think. You probably know the plan.”

“Yes, understood.”

“…Runa, when we’re alone, you can talk like before.”

Her formality makes me itchy, so I suggested otherwise. She shook her head.

“No, I must separate work and personal matters. Even alone with you, Akira-sama, I maintain professionalism on duty.”

She’s just out of elementary school, yet more disciplined than me.

“Got it. Then, off-duty, talk like before, okay?”

“Of course.”

Runa smiled. My sister’s adorable. In a couple of years, she’ll rival Youko as a beauty.

Putting Runa’s charm aside, we left the room for the entrance. Youko, Youka-san, and Rin-san were waiting to see me off. Runa must’ve alerted them en route, or they guessed my plans from the bell, knowing I’m visiting the Mihyou family today.

““““Safe travels!””””

“See you later.”

I replied to their synchronized send-off, grabbed an electric scooter from the garage by the entrance, and rode toward the east inner gate.

The Mihyou estate is east of the Oshika main house, past the east inner gate, on the right. It’s about a kilometer to the gate, then 700–800 meters to their entrance—nearly 20 minutes on foot. The scooter makes it quick.

At the Mihyou estate’s gate, I pressed the bell on the smaller side gate’s post. I could enter unannounced without issue, but still.

A woman’s voice answered promptly, urging me in after I gave my name.

I opened the side gate and entered.

The fence and gate are Western-style, but inside, a Japanese garden unfolds—twisted pines, stone lanterns, exuding wabi-sabi. The one-story mansion is smaller than the Oshika’s but far grander than a typical Japanese home, like the Ichimura’s. Comparing them feels absurd.

I rode the scooter slowly toward the mansion in the estate’s center, taking in the scenery.

Near the entrance, a garage like the Oshika’s held scooters and carts. I parked there, noting its tiled roof harmonizing with the mansion’s Japanese aesthetic.

“Welcome, thank you for coming.”

As I reached the entrance, sliding doors opened, and Mihyou women greeted me with introductions.

Seiran-san, the current head; her daughter, Seika-chan; Seiran’s sister, Airan-san; and Reiran’s sister, Reiko-san. I met Seiran-san and Seika-chan at my introduction, and Seiran-san and I were intimate at Hikaru’s 50th-day ceremony, but Airan-san and Reiko-san are new faces.

Seika-chan wore a dress gradating from deep to light blue. The three adults wore floral kimonos: Seiran-san’s blue, Airan-san’s orange, Reiko-san’s peach.

Reiran-san, who arrived earlier, might be preparing dinner, as she didn’t appear.

“Hello. Thank you for having me tonight.”

“More like we’re the ones being taken care of. Please, come in.”

“Thank you.”

Urged by Seiran-san, I entered, slipped off my shoes, and put on prepared slippers.

“Akira-san, could you entertain the children until dinner’s ready?”

“Got it.”

I nodded. The adults must be handling dinner preparations.

“Please. Seika, guide Akira-san.”

“Okay. Akira-san, this way.”

Seika-chan led me down the corridor.

She stopped suddenly, turning to me, not yet at our destination. I tilted my head.

“What’s up?”

“Um… what should I call you? Akira-san’s okay?”

She seemed unsure about my name.

“That’s fine, or ‘big brother’ works too. Whatever feels right for you.”

Wait, would it feel weird being called “big brother” by a girl other than Runa?

“Big brother… onii-san…”

Seika-chan mumbled, then looked up.

“Can I call you Akira-oniisan?”

“Sure, that’s fine.”

It’s longer than “Akira-san,” but it suits her.

“Then, Akira-oniisan, this way.”

Smiling, Seika-chan took my hand and resumed walking.

“Here we are.”

Seika-chan led me to a spacious Japanese-style room with a carpet, giving it a slightly Western vibe. Two girls playing a jigsaw puzzle stood and approached us.

“Seika-nee, welcome back.”

Said a girl in a mustard blouse and jeans.

“Seika-chan, who’s that?”

Asked a girl in a light peach blouse and shorts.

“This is Akira-oniisan. He’ll play with us until dinner.”

“Akira-oniisan?”

“Yep. Can you tell me your names?”

I knelt to ask.

“I’m Mihyou Aina, six years old.”

“I’m Mihyou Ayako, five years old.”

Aina-chan, in the mustard blouse, is Airan-san’s daughter with my uncle Ottoya, making her my cousin and great-niece (Reiran’s granddaughter). Ayako-chan, in the peach blouse, is Reiko-san’s daughter with my late brother Seiji, so she’s my cousin and niece.

The relationships are a mess. Seiji, Reiran’s son, was my brother and cousin. Let’s not overthink it.

“Aina-chan and Ayako-chan, huh? Working on a puzzle?”

“Yeah. Wanna join, Oniisan?”

“Can I play too?”

“Sure!”

“Let’s keep going, Seika-chan.”

“Okay.”

So, I sat on the floor with the girls and started on the puzzle. Seika-chan sat beside me, picking pieces.

This puzzle’s huge—maybe 100×70 cm, with the border done. Not for five- or six-year-olds. Yet Aina-chan and Ayako-chan happily fit pieces in.

There’s a reference image, but without it, this could take days. They barely glance at it, fitting pieces intuitively.

I can’t lose to kids not even in elementary school, so I dug into the pile of pieces.