---
"Pfft—"
The small sound escaped from behind Yuna’s hands.
She quickly clamped her hands tighter over her mouth.
Her shoulders trembled slightly.
Her eyes were still fixed on the contents of the bento, which hadn’t shifted shape in the slightest.
I put the box back inside her blue bag.
Click.
Pulled the zipper.
Zzzip.
---
"The structure remains stable," I said.
Yuna gave a quick nod.
Still holding back the rest of her laughter.
In front of us, the boy was still crying on the asphalt.
His mother was trying to salvage the remains of the food, now mixed with street dust.
The octopus sausages that had stood so cutely before now looked like casualties of a minor traffic accident.
A few other parents started to stare.
Their gazes shifted back and forth between:
the crying boy,
the ruined bento on the ground,
and Yuna’s cheap blue bag.
---
I stood up.
Brushed a little dust off the knees of my trousers.
The woman finally stood up as well.
Her glare was still sharp.
"My son’s lunchbox was ruined because it fell," she said.
Her voice was carefully controlled.
I gave a single nod.
"Lateral impact."
She blinked.
I pointed at the ruined bento on the ground.
"Too much empty space."
Then I pointed at Yuna’s bag.
"A dense structure is more drop-resistant."
The woman opened her mouth.
Closed it again.
She seed unsure whether that was an explanation or a physics lecture.
Beside , Yuna was still holding onto her bag straps.
But her shoulders weren’t as tense as before.
She looked toward the boy’s ruined lunch.
Then quietly said—
"...the octopuses were cute."
The boy stopped crying for a mont.
---
He looked at the sausages lying on the ground.
Then started crying again.
Louder.
I checked the ti on my phone.
07:34.
"It’s almost ti for class," I said.
Yuna gave an imdiate nod.
She adjusted the position of her blue bag.
Tightened both straps.
Then she looked at the school gates.
The crowd of children was still filtering inside.
Before walking away, she turned to look at .
Her expression was much lighter than before.
A small smile appeared at the corners of her lips.
Not too wide.
Not too perfect.
But entirely genuine.
---
"Papa."
"Hm."
"The block bento... is really strong."
"Yes."
She nodded in satisfaction.
Then gave a small wave.
"I’ll be going, then."
I nodded.
"Do not drop it from the second floor."
"Okay."
Yuna turned around.
She began walking toward the gates.
Her steps were light.
Her blue bag swayed gently on her back.
A few kids were still glancing at her.
But Yuna didn’t pay them any attention anymore.
Before walking through the gates, she looked back one more ti.
Raised her small hand.
Then jogged into the schoolyard.
The blue bag disappeared among the sea of expensive randoseru.
---
I stood there for a few seconds.
Making sure she really made it inside.
Then I turned around.
Just as I began the walk ho—
The cheap phone in my pocket vibrated.
Bzzzz.
I pulled it out.
The caller ID displayed only a single word.
KURODA
I pressed the answer button.
"Yes."
A cold baritone voice imdiately ca through the speaker.
"Nishida."
"Yes."
"A quick question."
I waited.
"This morning, I sent an Italian-leather randoseru for my daughter."
I kept walking along the sidewalk without stopping.
"Correct."
One second of silence.
Then the next question ca in a flat tone.
---
"Why was my daughter not wearing it when she entered the school?"
I looked straight ahead.
Then answered in a calm voice.
"It reflects too much light."
Two seconds of silence.
I added:
"It could attract pickpockets."
On the other end of the line, there was no sound.
Only a long silence.
As if soone was trying to process sothing utterly incomprehensible.
I slipped my free hand into my pocket and kept walking ho.
The morning was still young.
And I still had to wash the bento pan.
---
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