Blank

"I'm coming in..."

I said as I entered my "home"

As I stepped inside, I was immediately greeted by an overwhelming sense of luxury. The entire interior exuded an expensive, almost opulent feel, and everything—from the chandeliers hanging above to the vases, couches, and every meticulously chosen detail—seemed distinctly Western in style.

It felt like stepping into a world of wealth and sophistication.

Even the air was fragrant, a stark contrast to the musty scent of Hiroshi's apartment.

Yet, despite all this grandeur, there was something else in the atmosphere that I couldn't quite shake off—a lingering sense of discomfort, subtle but unmistakable.

Why does Takuya feel a sense of discomfort in such a lavish, expensive house?

It's strange, isn't it?

One would expect to be awed or even envious in the presence of such luxury, yet instead, something about the atmosphere unsettles him.

Perhaps it's the contrast between this opulence and what he's familiar with, the foreignness of the Western design, or maybe there's a deeper unease—a feeling that no amount of wealth can mask an underlying tension.

Whatever the reason, the extravagance only seems to heighten his sense of being out of place, rather than impressing him.

Right now in front of me is Takuya's mom, with brown hair and eyes, an hourglass body, in a... hmm mom attire? In summary, she looks hot and young for her age. Takuya's dad is so lucky.

"You must be wondering who I was." Takuya's Mom said.

DUH, obviously. However, I need to act like someone who just lost his memories.

"You must be my mom? I heard you call me son."

"Correct."

She leans in close to me.

"You managed to get here by yourself, very odd for someone who just lost his memories, are you lying my son?"

I feel cold in my stomach and I didn't even think about that, I f@*ked up because I acted on impulse. I wanted to tell her that I am from another world.

But that would be too risky because if they find out, they will find a way to make Takuya come back which I don't know how. They might torture me yikes!

"I'm sorry but it felt like it was the right way."

"Ohoho~, how did you open that phone then?"

She points at my phone.

"It rings and it was...I supposed your message. My gut feeling made me use the phone like normal."

She eyes me for a second

"Maybe, you have Dissociative Amnesia but it's so specific."

She mutters and smiles.

"I'm sorry my baby boy, Mommy is making you uncomfortable, have a sit, and I know you have many questions in mind."

I sit down on the couch, this greenish sofa is very comfortable and It's the best for sleeping as well. How rich is Takuya for real?

She sits down on the opposite side of the couch and crosses her legs around. 

"To start, I am Machida Asumi your mother, but I go now as Johnson Asumi, now happily married to Dominic Johnson. Because I divorced with your biological father."

Hmm...Johnson?, that explains the Western-style house, I wonder if Johnson is American or British.

She mentions she is divorced from Takuya's biological father, did he cheat or something? If he did he lost a good wife! She is a baddy! What are you thinking!? Anyway, I will ask her about it.

"Why did you get divorced? And what's my name?" OK we add a little bit of realism to my amnesia

Her expression changed from normal to sad.

"Your father cheated and went to another woman, We were so sad...." 

Then she smiles

"But when your stepfather, Dominic comes in and helps us. I knew we could rebuild our family again without that bastard, I am glad that I can give you a better life Takuya"

She reached out and held my hand, but not before I caught the hesitation in her movements—a slight pause, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

Her comforting expression felt off, like it was something rehearsed rather than genuine.

What is she trying to hide behind that façade?

This is when I began to trust my instincts, the uneasy feeling creeping in.

Why does everything about this woman seem so calculated, like she's playing a part? There's something not right here, and she's not as innocent as she wants me to believe.

"What's wrong Mom? Are you ok? Because you look like you are trying to hide your sadness.

I asked her, even though the answer should be obvious to anyone else. But I can't shake this nagging skepticism.

There's something beneath the surface that she's trying to cover up, and I'm not ready to ignore it just yet.

Should I confront her? No, that would be reckless.

A baseless accusation would only cause unnecessary conflict and give her the chance to twist things.

No, it's smarter to hold back, to let her think I'm still playing along for now. It's all about timing, and right now, I need more than just a hunch

Her eyes widened for a brief moment, and in that instant, I caught a fleeting glimpse of surprise, maybe even panic, behind her carefully constructed mask.

But just as quickly, she regained her composure, slipping back into the calm, controlled facade she wants me to believe. It was subtle, but I saw it.

"No son, I am just very happy you came home here safe and sound."

She clasps her hands together and holds my gaze, her eyes unwavering.

It's almost too deliberate, like she's trying to project this calm, motherly demeanor.

But if that's really her angle, then it's all a front—just a calculated move.

If I'm right, she's nothing more than a manipulative liar, hiding behind a mask of innocence, and worse, she's likely a sl*t who's not to be trusted.

LET'S NOT JUMP TO A CONCLUSION YET. I might end up putting my head on a pike, but I want it to be sure. I know the author is so bad at writing-

woops didn't mean to say that, let's continue.

We continue our conversation with Asumi, my so-called 'Mom,' discussing my family and friends.

As she introduces me to everyone, I can't help but notice something odd.

Takuya's childhood pictures are sparse, almost non-existent, and glaringly absent is any photo of Takuya's father.

It raises a red flag in my mind—what is she trying to hide? This lack of family representation feels calculated, like she's curating a specific narrative and leaving out key parts of Takuya's life

"Here's the picture where your grandpa and you having a picnic"

"Oh that's my grandpa"

As she points to the picture, I notice a girl with long black hair and brown eyes.

She looks older than Takuya, her features more mature and refined.

It strikes me then—I've heard about this before. Now that I think about it, I recall them mentioning in the doujin that Takuya has an older sister.

"Mother, who is the girl in the right?"

"That's a random kid, I forgot her name but she is one bright kid."

Looking at the girl, her features are very similar to Takuya, her face, her eyes, and even her skin color are the same. The girl also looks like Asumi.

"Do I have any siblings Mother?"

After she heard that. she went silent for a solid 10 seconds.

"No, you are our only child. You don't have any siblings in the first place" She smiles.

At that moment, I confirmed that this b*tch is lying.

Many House tours later, we finally arrived at my bedroom. The bedroom is so....plain, it's like an average Joe lives in it, but I can tell they're fully prepared for Takuya's memory loss.

There are boxes in the closet.

"This is your other stuff Takuya, if you need anything else that might relate to the past, you can check the stuff on those boxes."

"Thanks, Mother."

"You must be tired, rest first ok? I'll cook you dinner."

I nod as I watch Asumi leave, now that the woman is gone, I go to check the boxes to investigate, I hope there are erotic magazines over here hehe silly me.

I open the box and see some books, notes, and school stuff. There are many pictures...I suppose Takuya's work on photography, and these pictures are absolutely at their peak. After taking out a lot of stuff I come across a weird notebook...it looks old.

The book features rich, brown covers that have faded over time, hinting at its age and the countless hands that have held it.

The leather is slightly worn, with scuffed edges and a texture that feels both rough and inviting.

As I flip through the pages, I notice that the paper is incredibly old, its once bright white now a muted, yellowish hue, giving it a charming, antiquated look.

The pages are thin and fragile, with a slight crispness that suggests they could easily tear if handled carelessly.

This book carries a sense of blank, as if it holds secrets and stories waiting to be uncove- wait a minute....blank? What the h*ll? WHY IS IT BLANK!? Who in the world keeps this blank old dusty book....well, It's Takuya but why?

I keep flipping through the page hoping at least I see one sentence, as I reach the 300th page I finally see something and it reads

Welcome to the another world Carlos

I went from curious to surprised to shocked....ok that was three reaction but you know what I mean. This old book knows my real name, typical isekai genre web novel am I right?

I flipped another page and it says

You are very calm for someone who got sent in the another world, have you experienced it?

"No I haven't experienced it" I said jokingly.

but unexpectedly, something appears on the page just under the previous sentence, for effects it's like fire then ink then BOOM! a f@cking sentence.

Oh, very nonchalant, I see?

After seeing that, of course I got surprised, that's a book talking to me for god sake. I compose myself and let out an EHEM

"I guess? sorry but what are you exactly?" I asked

In a second it pops up

It doesn't matter who or what I am; you should be asking WHY you got transferred here.

"Fair point, so why am here then?"

I waited for it's response, but it takes longer than usual, every second of waiting slowly makes me irritated and after some time I grow impatient and ask

"Hello? Helloooooo? anyone there? are you gonna tell me why i am here?"

Not long it pops up again and it reads

FLIP A GODDAMN PAGE IDIOT CAUSE I'M ABOUT TO WRITE A WHOLE PARAGRAPH

"Jeez why all caps? calm down, also write SMALLER so you can write tons of shit"

I carefully flip a page, fully aware that I'm engaging with someone who has taken the time to write in this book. And yes, I said 'whoever' because it simply states 'Write' without any indication of the author's identity.

Anyone with half a brain would pick up on that detail—anyone, that is, except for the clueless author of this web novel.

But rather than dwell on their oversight, I shake my head and push the thought aside, focusing instead on the words that lie ahead, curious about what this mysterious writer has to say."

For what feels like several minutes, I find myself mentally preparing for what I am about to read.

My thoughts are swirling with a mixture of anticipation and expectations, building up with every passing second.

The suspense has me completely engaged, leaving me on the edge of my seat, eager to dive into the unknown yet bracing myself for what's to come and finally it pops up and it reads

I was bored so I sent you here for entertainment.

"....wot?"

Excuse me, what the actual fuck? Did this person seriously just say they're bored? Is that why they sent me over here, just because he's got nothing better to do? I can't even believe it—absolutely unbelievable. Out of all the possible reasons, boredom was the one? This is beyond ridiculous.

"You are a douchebag you know that?" I said in a monotone voice.

Yeah....anyway let's cut to the chase. Here are the different types of problems you must solve in order to restore your relationship and find your way back to your own world.

Each challenge reflects the complexities of love and trust, testing your bonds in ways you never imagined.

You'll encounter misunderstandings that arise from cultural differences, requiring you to communicate openly and learn from each other.

Emotional barriers may surface, demanding patience and vulnerability as you navigate feelings of loneliness or insecurity in this unfamiliar realm.

There will be trials that require teamwork, where you must rely on each other's strengths to overcome obstacles.

By tackling these challenges together, you'll not only strengthen your connection but also uncover the deeper layers of your feelings, paving the way for a true partnership as you both strive to return home. GOOD LUCK

"WAIT"

Before I could even said a single word, the book vanished right before my eyes, as if it had never existed at all.

My heart raced at the sudden loss, but a wave of relief washed over me as I realized that I had mentally pictured each page, the words and images etched in my memory.

The vivid details of the text, the layout, and even the essence of the stories within lingered in my mind, giving me a sense of security.

Though the physical book was gone, its contents remained alive in my thoughts, ready for me to recall and explore whenever I needed them.

also I am not a genius period.

To be continued