Chapter 8 - Secrets

"The outside world, huh?" he grumbled, running a hand through his hair. "Why the sudden curiosity, son?"
Yasu shrugged nonchalantly, trying to conceal the eagerness bubbling within him. "Just wondering what's beyond that wall, that's all," he replied, feigning a casual tone. "I've been sheltered here my whole life. Figured it's normal to be curious about the outside, right?"
Yasu's father sighed, the lines on his face deeper. "Curiosity is normal, yes," he admitted grudgingly. "But the outside is not a place for the curious. It's a dangerous, unpredictable place. You're better off not knowing what's out there."
Yasu sighed as he expressed his thoughts, with a bored expression on his face. "This again...? Just how long are you gonna gatekeep, old man?!"
He observed his father closely, studying his face intently. Years of living with him had heightened his intuitive sense, and he could read his father's expressions with remarkable accuracy. He recognized the genuine concern and warning in his father's eyes, but there was something else there as well - a hint of hesitation, as if he was debating how much truth to reveal.
In his mind, Yasu thought to himself, "I can tell he's not lying, but he's holding something back."
The internal dialogue continued, Yasu's thoughts racing. "He's so careful with his words, choosing them like chess moves," he mused. "There's more to it than just danger. He's not telling me something important. But what?"
He knew his father well, his instincts rarely failing him. Yet, something about this situation felt different. His father always had a reason for his reservations, but this felt more secretive, like he was guarding a deeper secret. Yasu's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his curiosity intensifying.
Yasu let out a sigh, his hand absently scratching his head as he changed the subject. "You know what? I'm starting to get hungry again. Mom's cooking is always the best," he said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
His father's expression softened momentarily, a faint smile flickering across his face. "Always thinking with your stomach," he gruffly replied, the tension easing slightly. "Your mother's cooking is indeed the best."
Yasu grinned, the conversation shifting to a lighter tone. "You can't blame me. Mom knows my stomach is a bottomless pit," he quipped, patting his stomach for emphasis.
His father chuckled softly, the sound tinged with a hint of amusement. "I suppose I can't argue with that. You do have a remarkable appetite, Yasu," he conceded, shaking his head with fond exasperation.
"What can I say? Growing boy's gotta eat," Yasu replied, feigning innocence. He knew his father had a soft spot for his voracious appetite, and he played it up whenever possible.
"You'll eat us out of house and home one of these days," his father retorted, his tone carrying a mixture of good humor and mild exasperation. "I swear you must have a black hole for a stomach."
Yasu chuckled, enjoying the banter back and forth. "Hey, it's not my fault I can't resist good food," he defended. "Besides, you're one to talk, remember the time you polished off an entire cake by yourself?"
His father coughed, a hint of embarrassment creeping onto his face. "That was a one-time thing," he grumbled, averting his gaze. "I was... testing the deliciousness of the cake. Strictly for research purposes."
"Research purposes, huh?" Yasu smirked, amused by his father's excuse. "And did you reach any conclusions, besides the obvious fact you have a sweet tooth?"
They walked back inside, Yasu and his father still deep in the debate they'd started outside.
As the family dinner wound down, his parents lingered in the kitchen, their chatter a soft hum. Yasu, still consumed by the enigma of their hidden secrets, seized the moment to slip silently into their room."
Yasu stealthily tiptoed across the wooden floor, footsteps barely making a sound. His heart raced with anticipation and a touch of guilt, as he knew he was venturing into a place he wasn't supposed to.
He glanced around the room, his gaze moving over the neatly made bed, the meticulously organized dresser, and the closed closet door. He felt a pang of hesitation, knowing that invading their privacy was a violation of trust. But his curiosity overrode his guilt, and he slowly approached the closet.
Yasu picked up the silk robe, admiring the intricate design and luxurious material. The elegant fabric felt soft against his skin as he slipped it on, the cool silk gliding over his body. A smirk played on his lips as he observed himself in the mirror, feeling a bit silly yet strangely comfortable in the feminine item. He adjusted the robe, making sure it sat comfortably on his frame. "This is pretty nice," he muttered to himself, twirling around a bit, the sleeves flowing gracefully with his movements. "I wonder how Mom would react if she saw me right now."
As Yasu was standing there in the silk robe, lost in his thoughts, the bedroom door creaked open, startling him. His mother entered the room, her eyes widening in surprise as she spotted Yasu in her robe, a mix of disbelief and amusement playing on her face.