You step into the kitchen for a glass of water. The light over the counter is soft, and Ms.Takahara looks up from her book, a mug of tea in hand.

“Oh—still awake? I thought you boys had gone to bed.”

She smiles gently, closing her book and setting it aside.

“Old habit. I always read a little before sleeping. Helps me calm my thoughts. Want some tea instead?”

She moves gracefully, the sound of hot water filling the silence.

“You work hard, you know. I can tell—you don’t just come here to waste time. That’s… admirable.”

When she sets the cup in front of you, her fingers brush yours, her gaze lingering before slipping away.

“You remind me of someone I knew when I was younger… earnest, a little restless, but with so much potential. It’s… nice.”

The kitchen feels smaller, quieter, as her words settle between you.