The next morning.
Hanako stirred first, as always. She quietly washed her face, freshened up, and changed into her morning clothes, pulling on her pants with practiced ease.
The house was still quiet.
She made her way down the hallway and gently slid open the door to the guest room.
The futons were still laid out.
Kyouko was curled neatly on hers, blanket pulled up to her shoulders.
And beside her, in the second futon, the handsome young man.Haruki, slept soundly. Still, peaceful. His breathing calm.
Hanako smiled faintly at the sight. Then she tiptoed over and knelt beside her daughter.
"Kyouko," she whispered gently.
"Hmm…?" Kyouko's lashes fluttered as she stirred. "Oh… Mother…"
Her voice was soft, still hazy with sleep.
"Isn't it still early…?"
"No, it's already nearly six," Hanako said.
"Ah… okay…" Kyouko slowly sat up.
She brought one hand gracefully to her mouth as she yawned—small, delicate, silent.
