When I was young, my mother passed away from illness. I vaguely remember her face but it's fuzzy. My father ran a company and we lived in luxury, but he was never home and I felt lonely. About half a year ago, that old man brought home Kumiko. She reminded me of my mother somehow, but Kumiko isn't my real mother. Kumiko treats me like her own son, but... for some reason, her kindness bothered me. I didn't know why until I finally realized it. I was conscious of Kumiko as a woman.
