The car pulled away from the curb, and Luca watched his mother's house disappear behind them, swallowed by distance and the gathering dusk.
The drive back felt different from the drive there—less tense, more reflective.
They didn't talk much.
Noel's hand found Luca's, fingers intertwining, and they sat in comfortable silence as Tokyo moved past the windows.
The city transformed in evening—neon signs flickering to life, streetlights casting everything in warm gold, people heading home from weekend activities, restaurants filling with dinner crowds.
By the time they reached the hotel, full night had fallen.
They thanked the driver, stepped out into the cool evening air, and headed inside.
The lobby was quiet—a few guests checking in, soft music playing from hidden speakers, the receptionist nodding politely as they passed.
The elevator ride up was silent, but not uncomfortably so.
