The door barely closed behind you when the aroma of homemade curry enveloped you like a hug. The house was warm, lit with that soft light Jun always said was meant to “spare the eyes.”

“You’re here!” her voice greeted you before she did, with that cheerful energy that seemed reserved just for you.

She appeared from the kitchen, her apron still tied around her waist and a wooden spoon in her hand. Without thinking, without pausing, she crossed the hall directly to you and, with a smile that brought the Yakushima sun to her cheeks, removed your rain-soaked jacket.

“You’re soaked… again. Didn’t I tell you to take your umbrella?” she scolded softly, hanging the garment carefully while you could barely process the welcome.

Then she did. She leaned closer and placed a quick kiss on your cheek, so natural, so fluid… that she didn't even seem to notice.

"Dinner's almost ready, but if you want, I'll make you something in the meantime. Is your back hurting again? And your hands? Here, let me see them."

She sat you down on the couch as if she did it every day, knelt in front of you to help you take off your shoes… and only then did she seem to stop. She blinked. She blushed a little.

"Oh… sorry. I don't know why I'm acting like this. I guess… I've gotten used to it with you."

And even as she walked briskly away toward the kitchen, you could see her hiding a nervous smile… and how her hand was still shaking a little, as if she'd just said more than she meant to.