__
Sester exams were over.
Report cards had been handed out.
Sumr vacation... had finally begun.
_
I opened my eyes slowly.
The ceiling.
The morning air felt a little chilly.
I turned my head to the side.
The futon next to was already empty.
Folded.
Neatly.
I lifted my head a little.
Yuna.
She was sitting.
In front of the small table.
Still in her pajamas. Her hair wasn’t brushed yet.
On the table, her report card lay open.
She was staring at it.
No wide smile. No over-the-top reactions.
But from the look in her eyes.
It was clear enough.
She was proud.
"Yuna..."
She didn’t look back.
"What ti is it?"
"Mm..."
"...half past six."
"Oh..."
I dropped my head back onto the pillow.
Still too early.
I shifted to my side, pulled the blanket up a little, and closed my eyes again.
_
"Papa."
I didn’t open my eyes.
"Don’t go back to sleep."
"Let’s play the PS2."
"Go play by yourself..."
...
"Papa..."
Her tone dropped.
A little disappointed.
I took a deep breath.
Just as I was about to sink completely back into sleep—
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang.
I didn’t open my eyes.
"...Yuna."
Before I could even finish speaking, she was already up.
Her quick, small footsteps headed for the door.
I heard the sound of the lock clicking open.
The door opened.
_
"Is this the Nishida residence?"
I sighed, forcing myself up.
By the door—
Yuna looked back.
"Papa! It’s a package."
A package?
I paused for a mont.
I didn’t recall ordering anything.
I walked over, my steps still heavy. Hair a ss, eyes half-closed.
"Yawn..."
I let out a long yawn as I reached the door.
_
"Nishida-san?"
"Yes, that’s ."
The man held out a large box to .
I took it.
Heavy.
Heavier than it looked.
"Please sign here."
He handed a small clipboard and a pen.
I took them, then signed my na without a second thought.
I caught a quick glimpse of the label.
Sender: Kuroda Seiji.
Receiver: Nishida Itsuki.
My hand stopped for a fraction of a second.
"Oh..."
I handed the pen back.
"Thank you."
The man gave a light bow and left.
I closed the door slowly.
Behind —
"Who is it from?" Yuna asked.
I stared at the box for a mont.
"Your father."
"From you, Papa?"
"No."
"I didn’t order anything. It’s from Seiji-san."
"Oh."
A short response.
No enthusiasm.
A little different from usual.
I placed the box on the table.
Yuna grabbed a kitchen knife, then handed it to without a word.
I took it.
I started cutting the packing tape.
The faint sound of tearing plastic filled the room.
Opened.
I stopped.
Yuna leaned in closer.
Inside—
Beef.
A lot of it.
Neatly arranged in layers, complete with premium-grade labels that I didn’t even need to read to know the price was absurd.
We both stayed quiet.
Staring at the contents of the box.
"Beef..." Yuna muttered.
"...so much of it."
She looked up at .
"Can you cook this, Papa?"
"I can."
"...But I’ll look up how to cook it on the internet first."
. . .
"That just ans you don’t know how."
I glanced toward the kitchen.
Barebones equipnt.
Incomplete.
A regular frying pan, a regular pot.
And a small stove.
Clearly, a lack of cooking utensils.
I looked back at the at.
If I ss up... the cooking.
It’d be such a waste.
"How about we bring it to Mika’s place?"
I turned to look at her.
"Who’s Mika?"
"My friend."
"She has an older brother who works at a restaurant."
"Oh..."
Makes sense.
I looked at the box again.
Then the kitchen.
Then the box again.
Ingredients this expensive shouldn’t be cooked by an amateur.
But...
showing up at soone’s house this early in the morning...
Feels a bit impolite.
I let out a soft sigh.
But still—
it’d be a bigger loss if this went to waste.
Hm, alright.
_
"Let’s go, Yuna."
She imdiately turned her head.
"Go get ready."
"We’re going to your friend’s place... Mi— who was it again?"
"Mika, Papa. Mika."
"Right, right." I gave a small nod.
"Mika."
__
Sumr had just begun.
The morning air already felt warm, but it wasn’t sweltering yet.
The outskirts of town.
Not too crowded. Not too quiet.
In the distance—
stood the apartnt building where I lived.
Towering high.
Just , and Yuna by my side.
And the box in my hands.
Reaching an intersection—
Yuna stopped for a mont, then pointed to the left.
"This way, Papa."
I followed her.
"Do you co here often?"
"Not a lot, just a few tis."
"Oh..."
We kept walking.
Past a few residential blocks.
The neighborhood gradually began to change.
The single-story houses were replaced by more modern, two-story hos.
Iron gates.
Pristine walls.
Paint that still looked brand new.
Yuna finally stopped.
I stopped behind her.
In front of —
stood a row of two-story houses with uniform designs. Neat. Almost too neat.
I looked down at Yuna.
"Yuna..."
She looked back slightly.
"Are you sure this is the right house?"
"I’m sure, Papa."
Her tone was confident.
She stepped forward.
Standing slightly on her tiptoes to reach the doorbell.
Press.
_
We waited.
Shortly after—
Click.
The door opened.
A woman appeared.
She had short hair. Not exactly neat, but not ssy either.
A loose T-shirt. Shorts.
Simple.
I stared at her for a mont.
. . .
Not bad.
Her eyes imdiately landed on Yuna.
"Oh, Yuna."
Her voice was light, familiar.
She walked straight to the gate and opened it.
She looked at .
"And you must be... Yuna’s father."
I nodded.
"Yes."
"Please, co in."
Yuna and I stepped inside.
Past the iron gate.
A small, clean front yard.
Then into the house.
The mont we walked in—
the difference was imdiately apparent.
Cream-colored walls.
White ceilings.
Gleaming tile floors.
Everything was in order.
Not a single thing looked out of place.
I walked further inside.
Cold.
The tile floor felt cold.
The air inside was cool, carrying that distinct, crisp scent of air conditioning.
...A far cry from my place...
We reached the living room.
"I’m sorry, my parents are at work," she said, looking back at us.
"That’s not a problem."
"I just need a bit of help."
"Please, take a seat."
"Thank you."
I sat down on the sofa.
Yuna imdiately sat down next to .
This sofa was too soft.
I adjusted my posture slightly.
"What kind of help did you need?"
I didn’t answer right away.
I placed the box on the table.
Gently.
Then, I opened it.
Pulled back the plastic wrapping.
The contents were imdiately revealed.
Premium-grade beef.
A whole lot of it.
"..."
The woman leaned in a little.
"Whoa..."
An honest reaction.
Then, she looked up.
"...But I’m sorry. I can’t do this."
"You’re lying."
Yuna imdiately cut in.
"I’ve tried your cooking before."
"It was really delicious."
The woman turned to Yuna, then gave a faint smile.
"Yuna..."
Her tone was half-resigned.
"Alright, alright..."
She let out a small sigh.
Then she looked back at .
"So, how would you like this cooked?"
I looked back down at the at.
To be honest—
I had no idea.
"I’ll leave it to you."
"I don’t really know much about cooking."
"Alright then."
She stood up right away.
Beside —
"Where’s Mika? I don’t see her."
"Oh, Mika?" she answered, walking slowly.
"She’s still asleep."
She paused for a mont.
"Could you go wake her up?"
"Okay!"
Yuna stood up imdiately.
Without waiting a second.
She hurried toward the stairs.
The sound of her small footsteps faded up to the second floor.
I watched her go for a mont.
Then—
"You can wait here," the woman said.
She had already started walking away, carrying the at.
Heading deeper into the house.
_
I stood up.
"May I help?"
She looked back.
A little surprised.
Then she gave a faint smile.
"Ah... thank you."
__
In front of a bedroom door—
Yuna stood still.
She raised her hand, then knocked softly.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
"Mika..."
No answer.
She waited a mont.
Silence.
"Still asleep..."
she muttered softly.
Yuna stepped a bit closer to the door.
"Mika, I’m coming in."
She pressed down on the door handle.
The door simply opened.
Unlocked.
No loud creak—just a soft scrape.
She stepped inside.
The room was still dark.
The window curtains were drawn tight, leaving only a thin sliver of light at the edges.
The air inside felt warm, slightly stuffy—different from the cool air downstairs.
In the middle of the room—
stood a bed.
The sheets were slightly rumpled.
On it, Mika was still asleep, her body half-wrapped in a blanket.
The bedside lamp was off.
Silence.
Yuna just stood there.
Watching.
. . .
Then she walked over to the window.
She pulled the curtains back—
Swish.
The morning sunlight instantly poured in.
Bright.
Too bright for a room that had just been dark.
Through the window—
the cityscape sprawled open. Rooftops, narrow streets, and a sky that was just starting to clear.
On the bed—
Mika reacted.
She scrunched up her face, then rolled over, turning her back to the light.
Trying to escape the morning.
"Mika, wake up."
No clear response.
Yuna stepped closer.
And stood beside the bed.
"Mika."
She reached out.
Gently shaking Mika’s shoulder.
Once.
Twice.
No result.
Yuna stopped.
Thinking for a mont.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing her options.
Then she leaned down.
Getting close to Mika’s ear.
Her voice dropped even softer.
Almost like a whisper pressed directly against it.
"Mika..."
. . .
"Mika..."
"Wake up..."
Still no reaction.
Yuna took a small breath.
Then—
Fuuu...
She blew gently into Mika’s ear.
The reaction was instantaneous.
Mika’s hand shot up reflexively.
Scratching her ear with a half-awake, annoyed expression.
"Mika."
Yuna called out again, this ti in a normal voice.
Not long after—
Mika’s eyes slowly fluttered open.
Her focus hadn’t entirely returned yet.
Then—
she saw Yuna.
Her expression quickly changed.
"Yuna?!"
She shot up, sitting straight up in bed.
Her hair was a ssy tangle, sticking out in every direction.
"Since when have you been here?!"
"Just now."
Mika rubbed her face.
Slowly.
"Who did you co here with?"
"With Papa."
"Hoooh..."
Mika let out a long sigh.
"My sister must’ve been surprised."
Yuna looked at her.
"Hm? Why?"
Mika narrowed her eyes a little.
The corner of her lips lifted slightly.
"Who knows..."
"...my instincts just tell so."
__
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