__ • __
A touch.
Gentle.
Shaking my arm.
"Papa... wake up..."
I opened my eyes.
Morning light spilled through the window.
Soft.
Yuna was already standing beside .
Already dressed.
Her hair combed.
Her clothes changed.
"Hm...?"
My voice was still heavy.
"What is it, Yuna...?"
She looked at .
Slightly puzzled.
"Why did you sleep on the floor, Papa...?"
"Even though I told you..."
"...you could sleep with ."
I just let out a small sigh.
"Yeah..."
Before I could continue—
her hands were already pulling my arm.
"Co on, Papa, get up."
"Grandma already made breakfast."
_
I sat up.
Then stood.
My body still felt stiff.
Aching all over.
My back.
Shoulders.
Arms.
Probably from sleeping on the hard floor.
Yuna didn’t let go.
Pulling out of the room.
Straight toward the kitchen.
_
The mont we arrived—
the atmosphere changed.
Warm.
Lively.
_
The kitchen was simple.
A gas stove on the counter.
Near the window.
Below it—
A traditional wood stove.
A large fire burning.
Beside it—
a stack of firewood.
A large pot resting on top.
Water boiling softly.
_
Mother stood there.
Cooking.
A frying pan on the gas stove.
The sound of oil—
sizzle...
_
Everyone was already gathered.
My younger sister was busy beside Mother.
Helping.
Or at least looking like it.
_
My youngest brother—
sat on the floor.
Playing on his phone.
With his older brother.
_
In the middle of the room—
a woven mat was laid out.
Father sat relaxed.
With a coffee.
At a small table.
_
"Grandma, I brought Papa."
Yuna’s voice instantly filled the kitchen.
Mother turned.
Toward .
"Oh... thank you, Yuna."
Yuna imdiately sat down.
Near Father.
Without hesitation.
_
I walked toward the counter.
Approaching Mother.
_
My path was blocked.
My younger sister stood right in the way.
"Move."
My hand imdiately grabbed her shoulder.
Shifting her aside.
She turned her head quickly.
"What’s your problem?"
"Move over a little."
I kept moving forward.
She stepped aside.
A little.
_
I pushed her again.
"Seriously, what is your deal?!"
"Move."
"I already moved!!"
Her voice rose.
I didn’t stop.
_
My eyes were focused.
On the drawer.
_
I pulled it.
Clack.
It opened.
Coffee grounds.
Inside.
_
"Just say so if you need to open the drawer."
I didn’t answer.
My arm extended.
Pushing her again.
Further away.
"What now?!"
_
I grabbed a spoon.
Scooped the coffee grounds.
Put them into a glass.
Then sugar.
_
I closed the drawer.
My hand reached for the thermos.
Pouring the hot water.
Steam rose.
The aroma of coffee spread.
_
I stirred it.
Slowly.
Lifted the glass.
Breathed in the scent.
"Hm..."
_
I tasted a little with the spoon.
Sweet.
Bitter.
Just right.
_
I turned around.
And simply walked away.
_
Behind —
my sister was still pouting.
_
I reached the small table.
Set down my coffee.
Sat down.
_
Yuna was there.
Sitting.
Her head resting on the table.
Her eyes half-closed.
Still sleepy.
"Papa..."
Her voice was quiet.
"Can I have so..."
"Coffee?"
She gave a small nod.
_
"It’s still hot."
_
"Yuna."
Father slid his cup.
Toward Yuna.
"Here."
_
Yuna turned to him.
"But this is Grandpa’s..."
"It’s fine."
Father replied.
Calmly.
_
Yuna sat up straight.
Reached for the cup.
Blew on it softly.
Then took a small sip.
_
"Sweet..."
She smiled a little.
"...not like Papa’s."
"Bitter."
_
Her eyes were fully open now.
Not sleepy anymore.
__
I took a sip of my coffee.
Hot. It burned my lips slightly.
"Dad..."
"What work do you have for later?"
Father didn’t answer imdiately.
He reached for his coffee cup.
Took a sip.
"Replacing the roof tiles."
"And changing the brake pads."
"Oh..."
I nodded slowly.
My hand reached for the pack of cigarettes in my pocket.
I placed it on the table.
"Which ones are leaking?"
I opened the cigarette pack.
"This kitchen."
"Then the bedroom."
"And the living room."
"Hm... That’s quite a bit..." I slipped a cigarette between my lips.
_
Beside —
Yuna was quiet.
Bored.
Her hands moved slowly.
Picking up my cigarette pack.
Then—
Father’s cigarette pack.
Which looked more expensive.
_
She lined them up.
Neatly.
Inspecting them.
Closely.
_
Her eyes moved as she read.
Slowly.
Then stopped.
_
"Smoking kills."
_
Her eyes imdiately widened.
Her mouth fell open slightly.
Shocked.
_
I was still talking.
"About the brake pads..."
"Drum or disc brakes?"
"Probably the rear ones."
Father answered casually.
"But just check all of them later."
"Oh... alright."
_
"Papa..."
Yuna’s voice was quiet.
But clear.
_
Father and I turned at the sa ti.
"Yeah?"
_
Yuna slid the cigarette pack over.
Showing the warning label.
_
I looked at it.
"Oh..."
"Yeah, I already know."
"And?"
_
Yuna looked at .
Serious.
"Papa, you have to stop smoking."
. . .
"Listen to her, Itsuki..."
Mother’s voice called from the kitchen.
Half-joking.
_
I let out a small sigh.
"It’s just text, Yuna."
"As long as I don’t overdo it—it’s fine."
_
"But..."
Yuna didn’t give up.
Leaning in slightly.
_
I pointed at Father.
"Look at your grandpa."
"He’s perfectly fine."
_
Yuna imdiately turned her head.
Toward Father.
_
Father just gave a small nod.
"The important thing is not to overdo it."
_
Yuna sat back down.
Slower this ti.
"Grandpa... how old are you?"
"Hm..."
Father thought for a mont.
"Probably around sixty-five."
"Oh..."
_
She put the cigarette pack back down.
And didn’t touch it again.
_
Her eyes shifted to the back.
Looking at—
my younger brother.
Who was still playing on his phone.
_
Yuna stood up.
Walked over to him.
"What are you playing, Uncle?"
The teenager glanced at her.
"Hm? Oh, Yuna."
_
Yuna leaned down.
Looking at the screen.
"What ga is that...?"
"A MOBA."
"MOBA...?"
_
On the screen—
Characters.
Items.
Skills.
A massive map.
Colorful effects.
_
Yuna went quiet.
Watching closely.
Not long after.
_
"I’m dizzy."
She imdiately stood up straight.
Walked away.
_
She ca back.
Sat down beside .
Just like before.
Her head resting on the table.
Using her arms as a pillow.
_
From behind—
a quiet voice spoke up.
"Bro..."
My youngest brother.
Still staring at his phone.
"What was her na again?"
"Yuna."
His older brother answered.
"Is she Brother Itsuki’s kid?"
"Yeah."
_
"Kids..."
Mother’s voice rang out.
Firr this ti.
"Enough playing on your phones."
"Let’s have breakfast."
_
Mother walked over.
Carrying the rice.
My younger sister followed behind her.
Carrying the fried chicken.
_
They placed it on the table.
In front of us.
The aroma imdiately spread.
_
"Itsuki..."
Mother looked at .
"Go wash your face."
"Then eat."
"Yuna, too."
_
"Okay, Grandma..."
Yuna answered first.
_
I stood up.
_
A small hand reached out.
Toward .
_
I grabbed it.
Pulled gently.
Helping her to her feet.
_
We reached the washing area.
I turned on the faucet.
Water imdiately poured out.
Clear.
I washed my hands.
Then washed my face.
The cold water touched my skin.
Refreshing.
Washing away the lingering sleepiness.
_
"Papa..."
A small voice beside .
"...I can’t reach."
I glanced over.
Yuna was standing there.
Reaching out.
But her hands couldn’t reach the faucet.
_
I looked at her for a mont.
"Short."
_
"Papa...!"
My hands imdiately grabbed her.
Lifting her up.
Light.
_
Yuna leaned forward a little.
Washed her face.
Water dripped from her chin.
Her eyes were fully open now.
Not sleepy anymore.
_
I set her down.
She stood there.
Shaking a little water off her hands.
_
We headed back.
_
Inside—
everyone was already gathered.
Sitting around the low table.
The mat was full.
Lively.
_
Yuna and I sat down.
In the space between them.
Near Mother.
_
"Here."
Mother handed out plates.
To .
To Yuna.
_
"Yuna..."
Mother smiled a little.
"Eat a lot."
"So you can grow up fast."
"So you can be like Itsuki."
_
"Like Papa?"
Yuna imdiately turned.
Looking at .
From head to toe.
_
"Just eat a normal amount."
"When you’re full, stop."
_
Yuna nodded.
Her hand reached for the rice.
Scooping a full plate.
_
I stared at her.
"Hey..."
"That’s too much."
"If you can’t finish it—"
"who’s going to eat it?"
_
"Papa."
She answered quickly.
_
I raised an eyebrow.
"What if I’m already full?"
_
"Umm..."
Yuna paused.
Looked at her plate.
Then—
scooped a little.
Moving it to my plate.
_
"I can finish this much."
_
"Right..."
_
Mother ca over again.
Placing the side dishes.
Fried chicken.
Onto our plates.
_
"Do you like spicy food, Yuna?"
Mother asked.
_
"Yeah..."
Yuna answered quietly.
"But only a little."
_
"In that case..."
Mother slid the mortar over.
Red sauce.
The scent of chili imdiately wafted up.
"Here."
_
Yuna raised her spoon.
About to take so.
_
My hand imdiately stopped hers.
_
"Yuna."
She turned to .
_
"You don’t know how spicy Grandma’s sauce is yet."
"Try a little first."
_
Yuna went quiet.
Then nodded.
_
She put the spoon back down.
Used the tip of her finger.
Touching the sambal lightly.
Then—
tasted it.
... ... ...
Her reaction changed instantly.
Her eyes went wide.
Her face tensed.
_
I imdiately grabbed my coffee cup.
"Here."
"Drink this. Quick."
_
Yuna took it.
Without hesitation.
Drank it right away.
_
A little.
Not enough.
_
She drank again.
More.
_
And again—
until it was empty.
_
"Haa..."
She let out a breath.
_
"Are you okay, Yuna?"
Mother asked.
_
Yuna just nodded quickly.
Still quiet.
_
I looked at her.
"How was it?"
"Did my coffee work?"
_
Yuna turned to .
Her lips were still a bit red.
"Yeah..."
"...it worked really well."
"The spiciness is completely gone."
_
I chuckled.
"Good."
_
We went back to eating.
_
The fried chicken—
savory.
Slightly sweet.
With a hint of saltiness.
It seed it was fried using leftover salted fish oil.
But exactly because of that—
it added more flavor.
_
The rice was warm.
Fluffy.
Not too mushy.
Not dry.
Just right.
_
I ate slowly.
_
Yuna—
beside .
_
As usual.
Neat.
Not making a ss.
_
But this ti—
faster.
A little more enthusiastic.
_
Her spoon didn’t stop.
Eating heartily.
~~ • ~~
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