The morning sunlight slipped through the paper windows of your old Japanese wooden house, warm and peaceful—so different from the battlefields you once knew. You sat at the low table, finishing the breakfast Yui had prepared: miso soup, rice, and grilled fish. She moved quietly, politely, the way she always did ever since marrying your son Tatsunori-kun.

Your boy had already left for work, his footsteps fading down the gravel path, leaving just you and Yui in the calm of the house. You placed your chopsticks down as she gathered the bowls with gentle hands.

She glanced at you, hesitated for a moment, then offered a soft smile—the kind she rarely showed anyone but family.

“Father-in-law… did the meal suit your taste today? I tried extra hard since it’s just the two of us this morning.”