Milf Hunter: Seducin Chapter 565: Kasumi’s Worry

Chapter 565: Kasumi’s Worry

Kasumi’s eyes filled with tears. " But I never stopped loving you. Not for a single second."

Yuko’s breath ca in sharp, uneven gasps. " Look at ! I’m a ss! I can’t even—" She cut herself off, her voice breaking.

Haruna returned with the first aid box, her face pale. I handed the phone back to her, but Kasumi wasn’t done. Her voice was desperate. "Haruna, please—let

see her. Let

see my daughter."

Yuko’s voice was a growl. "Haruna, don’t you dare—"

But Haruna lifted her chin, her own eyes glistening. "Sister, I’m not afraid of you anymore. Not when Jack’s here. And I know you miss her. I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you staring at her pictures when you think no one’s looking."

Yuko’s face twisted. "Haruna!"

Haruna turned the phone toward Yuko, her voice trembling but firm. "Mother... look. She’s being stubborn, but she’s not hurt badly. Just her finger. But she does miss you. She just won’t admit it."

Kasumi’s breath shuddered. "Yuko... my sweet girl..."

Yuko turned her face away, but not before I saw it—the way her lips trembled, the way her shoulders shook like she was holding back sothing far bigger than tears. My chest tightened. It wasn’t just pain. It was sothing deeper, sothing that had been festering for years.

And for the first ti, I really understood.

She wasn’t just angry.

She was broken—cracked open in a way that made every word, every breath, feel like it might shatter her completely.

I reached for her hand, my fingers wrapping around hers. "I’m not hurt," she muttered, her voice so quiet it was almost lost. "I’m fine."

I looked at her, my own frustration rising. "Sister Yuko..." My voice was firr than I intended, but I couldn’t stand seeing her like this—so stubborn, so alone in her pain. "Stop acting like a child. If you’re hurt, just say it. No one’s going to judge you for feeling sothing."

She didn’t pull away as I took her fingers, carefully dabbing the burn cream onto the reddened skin. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t even hiss. Just sat there, her body rigid, her breath shallow, like she’d already decided pain was sothing she didn’t deserve to acknowledge.

"It doesn’t even hurt," she lied, her voice hollow.

I didn’t call her out. Not yet.

Instead, I glanced at the screen where Kasumi’s face was still frad in worry, her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Aunt, don’t worry," I said, keeping my voice steady. "She’s fine now."

Kasumi exhaled, so of the tension leaving her shoulders. "Thank you, Jack." Her voice was warm, thick with relief. "You’re such a good boy. Haruna’s lucky to have soone like you looking out for her."

Haruna’s face turned bright red. "Mom!!"

Kasumi’s lips curved into a small, tired smile. "Jack..." Her tone shifted, becoming more serious, her gaze intense even through the screen. "I need to ask you sothing. Take care of both my daughters, alright? I know Yuko..."

She hesitated, her voice cracking slightly. "I know she acts like she doesn’t need anyone, but she does. She does. And Haruna—well, she’s my sweet girl, but she can be reckless when she’s worried."

She leaned closer, her expression earnest. "If she does anything foolish, you’ll tell , won’t you? I’ll make sure she gets a proper scolding."

Haruna crossed her arms, pouting. "Mom! I’m your daughter! Why are you teaming up with him?!" She shot

a mock-glare before turning back to the screen. "And what if Jack bullies ? Who’s going to scold him then?"

Kasumi chuckled softly, but her eyes were still heavy with concern. "Oh, Haruna. If Jack ever bullies you, you co to

imdiately, and I’ll—"

"You’ll what?" Yuko’s voice cut through, sharp and bitter. She finally turned her head, her eyes burning with a mix of defiance and sothing far more fragile. "Scold him? Punish him? Like you did with ?"

The room went still.

Kasumi’s breath hitched. "Yuko..."

Yuko’s voice trembled, but she didn’t stop. "You weren’t there. Not when it mattered. So don’t act like you get to decide who protects us now." Her fingers curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "You lost that right a long ti ago."

Kasumi’s face paled. "Baby, I—"

"Don’t." Yuko’s voice broke. "Just... don’t." She looked away again, her throat working like she was swallowing back sothing painful. "I don’t need your empty words. I don’t need anyone."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Haruna’s eyes welled up. "Sister..."

I tightened my grip on Yuko’s hand, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. "You’re not alone," I said quietly, my voice rough. "Whether you like it or not."

Yuko’s breath hitched. For a second, I thought she might pull away. But she didn’t.

Kasumi’s voice was barely a whisper. "Yuko... I love you. No matter what you say, no matter how much you push

away, I love you."

Yuko’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Love doesn’t fix anything."

"No," Kasumi admitted, her voice breaking. "But it’s a start."

Yuko remained silent, her entire body trembling—not from physical pain, but from the storm raging inside her. Her fingers clenched around mine with desperate intensity, as if I were the only thing anchoring her to the present. I could feel her pulse racing beneath my fingertips, erratic and wild.

In that mont, sothing shifted inside . I finally understood—truly, completely.

She wasn’t just broken.

She was terrified.

Terrified of needing soone. Terrified of showing weakness. Terrified that if she let herself depend on another person, even for a mont, the carefully constructed walls around her heart might crumble entirely.

But for the first ti since I’d known her, she wasn’t pushing

away.

And that small, fragile trust felt heavier than any confession.

Then, without warning, Yuko stood abruptly. Her chair scraped violently against the floor, the sound grating against the thick silence. She turned away, her shoulders hunched as if bracing against an invisible weight. "I need to be alone," she muttered, her voice raw with restrained emotion.

I watched her retreat, each step seeming to cost her sothing precious. The door to her room clicked shut behind her with finality.

On the screen, Kasumi’s breath hitched. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek. She looked... devastatingly beautiful in her vulnerability. The kind of beauty that wasn’t about perfection, but about the raw, exposed truth of a mother’s love—love that had been rejected, yet persisted anyway.