It Seems Like a Girl I Don’t Know Is Doing Housework at My Place. But She’s Cute, So I’m Watching Her.

I recently realized that entrusting someone with household chores is like handing over control of the house. The best example of this is the recent “toothbrush incident.”

With that in mind, I thought I’d do a little cleaning myself for the first time in a while. It’s a day off, and I have the time. You know what they say: “While the cat’s away…”

“Hmmm…”

First, I take a look around. To be honest, it’s not really messy enough to bother cleaning.

“Well, of course it isn’t. The live concert was a month ago, and Chiaki’s been around for a long time.”

Since Chiaki started acting as a sort-of housekeeper, quite a bit of time has passed. She’s been keeping up with the chores regularly, so it’s no surprise that the place isn’t dirty.

So, cleaning isn’t the main thing. What I really want to check is Chiaki’s… progress—or should I say, her brazen impositions. The focus here is to see how much of her personal belongings have made their way into my home.

As the toothbrush incident made clear, “subtlety” isn’t in Chiaki’s vocabulary. It’s obvious she’s trying to invade my space, so it shouldn’t take long to find her things.

This is just a little reminder for her. I don’t really mind Chiaki infiltrating my house, as long as it doesn’t affect my daily life. But after what happened last time, I feel like letting things slide might lead to things getting worse, so I figured I’d take stock of the situation as a side activity.

“Let’s start with…”

The sink, I guess. There are a few dishes I used earlier, so I’ll wash those. Even though cleaning is secondary, I’m still going to do it properly.

“Hmm, she’s definitely added more stuff…”

As I wash the dishes, I glance at the contents of the cupboard and chuckle to myself. Just as I thought, there are cups—actually, mugs—that I have no memory of buying.

All my dishes are plain, so it’s easy to spot the unfamiliar ones. And given that they all look like they came as part of a set, it’s pretty clear what Chiaki’s intentions are.

“Alright, that’s done. Next…”

Hmm, maybe I’ll check the bathroom. Today’s the day to clean the tub, so I’ll take care of that while checking things out.

First, I spray the bathtub with cleaner and let it sit for a bit. Since I’m a shower person, I don’t need to deal with draining water, which makes things easier.

Now, while the cleaner does its thing, I’ll check around the sink area.

“…Toothbrush and skincare products, huh?”

As expected, there are more items. I already knew about the toothbrush, but now there are some skincare products that seem tailored for women, and other unfamiliar skin-care-related items in the drawer.

“…”

It’s not really a big deal, but… Chiaki really is steadily claiming more space in my home.

And the thing is, whether it’s the toothbrush or the skincare stuff, it’s clearly meant for someone staying over long-term, not just dropping by for a visit.

Chiaki’s definitely planning to stay over. She’s got everything prepped. It’s almost admirable in its audacity.

But hey, I never agreed to let her stay over. I’ve allowed her to be a sort-of housekeeper, but I never gave permission for her to move in. Does she even get that? No, of course she doesn’t.

*Sigh…*

I can sense that an impending battle over “stay-over rights” is looming. I let out a sigh, feeling like I’m trapped in a sitcom.

Resigned, I start cleaning the tub. Scrubbing the bathtub with a sponge, rinsing it off, and cleaning the drain.

“What else…?”

Vacuuming? No, it doesn’t need it. There aren’t many clothes to wash, either. Which makes me think I’m already done.

It really drives home the importance of doing small things every day. There’s hardly anything left to clean. Though, it’s really Chiaki who’s been doing the housework.

“Hmm, I guess that’s it.”

After some thought, I decide to stop. Cleaning was always the secondary objective, so I don’t need to go searching for more tasks.

Instead, I shift focus to looking around the apartment. Based on Chiaki’s personality and intentions, I figure I’ll check the areas most likely to be “infiltrated.”

“Hmmm…”

However, at first glance, I don’t see anything obvious. It’s not like she’s left small personal items lying around in plain sight.

Considering what I know about her, Chiaki only brings in things that serve a purpose. There are daily necessities, sure, but she hasn’t added any decorative items. Whether that’s because she’s respecting my space or simply prioritizing her goals, I’m not sure.

So, the focus is on daily necessities. I should search in areas where those might be stored.

“That means… the closet, right?”

The first thing that comes to mind is clothing. After all, even though I haven’t agreed to let her stay over, the stuff in the bathroom suggests that’s what Chiaki’s planning.

It wouldn’t be surprising if she had a change of clothes or at least a pair of pajamas stashed away. Even if not, there might be a blanket or a cardigan for indoor use.

With that in mind, I open the closet. The upper part with the jackets is easy to check, so I focus on the bottom, particularly a nearly empty color box where I store some of my things.

“Let’s see… Whoa!?”

Pulling out the color box, I immediately push it back in.

“Wait, what…?”

I’m stunned, practically speechless. The contents were completely unexpected.

Inside, I find unfamiliar towels, a cardigan, and that fluffy loungewear girls often wear. Up to this point, everything’s fine. These were within the realm of possibility.

But…

“Why are there so many pairs of underwear!?”

I was not prepared for bras and panties to be part of the mix. Seriously, this was not in the plan.

“Uh…”

I gingerly pull the box out again. Yup, they’re still there. Not a figment of my imagination.

From a quick glance, I count four sets, neatly folded and stored in the color box.

It’s not like I want to examine women’s underwear up close, but there are so many things to question that I can’t help but look.

First of all, why has she brought underwear here as if it’s the most natural thing in the world? Pajamas, I could reluctantly accept, but underwear? That’s crossing a line.

It’s just too much to process. Also, the types of underwear are strange. If they were flashy, “sexy” lingerie, that would at least be a joke, but these are clearly just everyday, practical pieces. For instance, there’s a lacy pale green set and some plain cotton ones, which really just makes me want to ask, “Why these?”

I don’t know how to put it, but there’s something about the lack of “sexy” underwear that actually makes this situation even more… fetishistic? It feels too real, too personal.

I mean, why is there not a single piece of “sexy” underwear? The lacy ones are one thing, but plain cotton panties? I thought women didn’t like showing that kind of thing.

“Wait, are these…? Are these brand new, bought specifically for here? Or… are they used?”

This is bad thinking. Examining women’s underwear is already a no-go, and contemplating whether they’re used or new is even worse.

But I can’t help it. Yes, I’ll admit there’s a bit of a sexual curiosity involved. But more than that, it’s the sheer number of things to question that keeps me from looking away.

I mean, imagine finding women’s underwear, belonging to someone you’re not even dating (important detail), hidden in your room. How much of an impact do you think that would have?

You can’t just ignore this. Even if I put it out of my mind, it’s going to haunt me.

So I might as well get it over with and observe until I calm down. I’m definitely not touching anything, though.

And luckily, Chiaki’s not supposed to be coming by today—

“I’m back! Oh, Haruto-kun, listen to this! My friend canceled on me last minute because she got a boyfriend, so now I’m free to… huh…”

Why did Chiaki have to show up now of all times?

“…”

“Uh, Haruto-kun? I think I put some things in there…”

“…Yeah.”

“Did you… see them?”

“…Want me to hold one up for you?”

“No, don’t!”

I’m not actually going to do it, but… yeah, I’m a little shaken up too.