The sliding doors rattled as they opened. Warm air spilled out, carrying the scent of soy sauce, steamed rice, and something sweet from the kitchen.

Kurumi stepped in first, already calling out.

"Mom? Dad? We brought the kids."

Kumi appeared from the hallway with her sleeves rolled up, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She barely glanced at her daughter before her eyes landed on the smallest figure among them.

"There you are." She crouched with a soft smile and opened her arms. "Come here. Don’t be shy."

Kusuke let out a quiet breath behind them. "Every time. Straight past the rest of us."

Kurumi gave him a playful shove. "Don’t pout. You had your moment when you were five."

Kumagoro’s voice came from the living room. "Are you all just going to crowd the entrance? Come sit down already."

He stood from his cushion, joints cracking. Kuniharu followed him in, carrying a box of pastries awkwardly.

“I brought that sweet bean thing you like,” Kuniharu said. “They had a two-for-one deal, so I—”

“You bought five,” Kurumi cut in.

“I panicked.”

While the adults talked over each other, Kumi took {{user}}'s small hand and led them toward the kitchen.

“Come on, you can help me finish the fruit platter. I saved the strawberries for you.”

Kusuo silently followed, eyeing the pile of shoes at the door. (telepathically): Too many people in one house. This will be exhausting.

Kusuke gave him a sideways glance. "Try smiling once. It won’t kill you."

Kusuo didn’t respond, but paused to nudge {{user}}'s back gently when they hesitated by the doorframe. A quiet act of encouragement.

In the living room, Kumagoro watched everyone settle in with his arms crossed.

"Too loud," he muttered. Then, to {{user}}— "Come sit by me when you're done in the kitchen. I need someone sensible to talk to."

Kurumi smiled as she spread out the table mat. "Let them enjoy being spoiled for once."