It Seems Like A Girl I Don't Know Is Doing Housework At Home. But It Was Cute So I'll Keep An Eye On It - Chapter 8
Episode 8: Silky’s Initiative
“Hmm-hmm♪.”
Once again today, the stalker has illegally invaded my home. …Whether it’s technically considered “illegal entry” is debatable at this point, but emotionally, I’d like to stick with calling it illegal entry, so let’s continue with that.
Well, putting that aside. It’s been almost two weeks since our first encounter at my home. Hearing voices and footsteps other than mine has already become a common occurrence these days.
“……”
What I’m thinking about here is how remarkably the stalker is still able to keep her spirits up.
It’s been about two weeks since the stalker started boldly invading my home. During this time, I’ve continued to ignore her. I haven’t responded at all even when she tried to talk to me.
Normally, being ignored to this extent would leave even saints with a bad impression. Despite words like “puppy love,” there’s a limit to everything.
How can someone still harbor affection for a person with whom they haven’t even managed to establish communication, or rather, haven’t even tried to? What kind of mentality is that? It’s beyond creepy; it’s reaching a level of curiosity.
To be honest, my initial expectation was that she would give up soon. I thought that someone showing such criminal obsession would have her mental state deteriorate quickly if she were completely ignored.
Of course, it’s not a bad thing. Rather, it’s what you might call a stroke of luck amidst misfortune. If she were to fall ill, I would have to change my approach as well.
In the worst-case scenario, I might have to take care of her. If that were to happen, all my previous efforts would be in vain. So, the current situation can be considered an unexpected stroke of luck.
“Okay, I’m done with the dishes! The chores for today are finished!”
The stalker’s voice echoes through the room. Overflowing with affection from her tone. Her expression is probably still the same carefree smile as always.
Even though I’ve never looked directly at her, I can still easily imagine her presence, which has become a part of my daily life.
Her mentality, which allows her to maintain unwavering affection even when treated badly, is worthy of respect, considering she’s a criminal.
But at the same time, it’s terrifying. The words… no, it’s hard to express it in any other way. The stalker’s mentality seems to have a cult-like devotion at its core.
Respect fifty percent, creepiness fifty percent. That’s the ratio. Despite that, I find myself harboring some degree of affection towards her involuntarily.
But well, there’s nothing I can do about that. Even though my interpersonal skills are lacking, I’m still a man. Being taken care of devotedly by an attractive person can sway me somewhat.
However, even if I’m swayed, the brakes of a criminal will still be applied, so for now, I won’t develop any further emotions.
“Well, um, you know! Making time today was important to me! I don’t have any plans after this, and you’re off work, right?! So, we can be together until tonight! But I have something to do tomorrow, so I’ll leave around eight. …I’m still embarrassed to stay over, so, sorry about that?”
“……”
I may have never cursed my schedule as much as I am now. While I usually find work tiresome, today I find myself wishing for a support request to come in.
It’s a little past three in the afternoon right now. University ends after the third period. I don’t have any shifts at work today, so there are no plans for the day.
In other words, we’ll be alone together for about five hours. Until now, things have been manageable because it was for short periods, and most of the time was spent on chores and some small talk (monologues).
Now that this delicate balance is upset, I wonder what will happen…
“Well then, I’ll just make myself at home next to you!”
─Ignoring my trembling heart, the stalker took a seat next to me.
“……”
While pretending to focus on my mobile game, I silently complain in my mind. Living alone in a one-room apartment, or rather, my lifestyle, has become my undoing.
It’s a hassle, and it’s in the way, so I usually sit on the floor. Therefore, I don’t have any chairs in my home.
All I have are a floor chair for my computer and a beanbag cushion. And the one I’m currently using is the beanbag cushion.
The cushion is a big size that two people can comfortably sit on. I splurged on it for the best comfort.
Sitting alone and sinking into it feels like a luxurious treat. But what happens when two people use it together?
“Uh, come to think of it, this is the first time we’ve been this close together, isn’t it?”
The result is what you see now. Close. Not just a metaphor; literally close. It’s not just zero distance; it’s a position where we’re leaning on each other completely.
Even the stalker, who intrudes into my home with such boldness, seems to falter for a moment. I can’t see her face because I don’t dare to look, but I can imagine she’s blushing from the atmosphere.
“…Ehehe.”
But still, the stalker’s relentless advances continue. Along with a shy voice, there’s the weight on the shoulder. Something slender stimulating the cheek. And a sweet scent tickling the nose.
Even without confirmation, it’s understood. A head rests on the shoulder. And there’s the bonus of rubbing against it.
It’s quite uncomfortable. And annoying. Suddenly, an unnerving closeness imposed with audacious force. In this situation, which can only be described as a sudden approach, indescribable emotions overflow within.
This stalker is a criminal. But at the same time, beautiful. There’s the aversion of being a criminal, combined with the eeriness of still unknown identity. And even that is overshadowed by embarrassment and sexual implications.
Oh, should I just honestly admit it? There’s a part of me that finds the stalker’s actions cute. Despite everything, I find it attractive.
I’ll say it again, but I’m also a man. I have normal sexual desires. Yet, I have zero experience with women… Not that it’s something to be proud of.
For such an unattractive guy like me, being approached by a beauty is bound to cause agitation. If I were to be thrown into a situation that looks like a silly couple from an outsider’s perspective, of course, I’d panic amusingly.
It’s almost miraculous that my agitation isn’t showing outwardly. I want to applaud my mental control and the fact that my facial muscles aren’t moving much. …Still, if my hand is trembling faintly, it’s probably quite evident how much I’m rattled.
Probably, if I were to pick up a teacup right now, it would rattle amusingly like in a manga.
“…It smells nice. You know? When you perceive body odor as a good smell, it means genetically you’re compatible with that person.”
“……”
I really wish she’d stop. Please don’t come sniffing around people’s body odors. Regardless of whether it’s a beauty or not, it’s gross.
…So, the stalker is indeed a stalker. Perhaps due to the exquisitely suspicious behavior, it seems crossing the final line will still take some time.
Though I’m already teetering on the brink in terms of sexual desire, the fortress of emotions is still standing strong. No matter how agitated I am, ultimately, my rationality manages to hold firm with the thought, “This person is dangerously shady.”
Even in the current situation, if things were to escalate in a bad direction, I’d quickly snap out of any excitement. So, it’s still okay.
“…I can’t keep this up.”
“Huh, what do you mean?”
“……”
“Oh, are you talking about the game?”
It’s about circling back to the topic. The inadvertent slip of the tongue was somehow covered up by focusing on the social game. That was a close call.
But to have slipped up to that extent, there’s a bitter feeling. If I had met this stalker with such blessed looks under normal circumstances…
If that were the case, I could have easily brushed it off. I couldn’t help but lament in my heart why fate led me to meet her with my rationality still intact.