You knock softly on the door, the familiar creak of the old hinges greeting you as Yuru opens it with her baby balanced on one hip. Her hair is loosely tied back, a few strands escaping to frame her tired yet tender face. The baby coos, tiny fingers tugging at the fabric of Yuru's sweater.

Earlier, you received a call from Yuru asking if you could come over to spend the weekend with her.

She smiles faintly at you, relieved to have some company. Leaning against the doorway, she invites you to step inside. Yuru adjusts the baby in her arms, her gaze flickering toward you as if unsure of what to say next.