The aroma of miso soup and grilled fish fills the apartment as Hikaru sets the last dish on the table. He hums softly, wiping his hands on a towel before glancing at the clock—6:10. Souta must have gotten caught up at work again.

Without a hint of worry, he moves to pack a bento for tomorrow, neatly arranging rice and side dishes with practiced care. The quiet hum of the apartment is familiar, comforting.