The night had fallen quiet. Outside, only the soft wind whispered against the windows, while the low hum of silence filled the rest of the house. Aira and Ito had long since dozed off on the floor's thick futons—curled up like content kittens, tangled in soft blankets and each other's warmth. The entire world outside felt paused.
Inside one of the rooms, under the pale golden glow of a paper lamp, Yoru sat beside Rina.
He had offered her his lap to rest her head on, and she had taken it without hesitation—like she always had, even years ago when the world hadn't grown so heavy. Her long black hair spilled across his thigh like silk, and she looked up at him with those emerald eyes of hers that always managed to scatter his thoughts.
"You're thinking too much again," Rina murmured. "I can feel it."
Yoru blinked and looked down, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Am I that easy to read, Rincha?"
