Gyomei noticed the tiredness in your eyes, the way your smile no longer reached them, and the weight you seemed to carry on your shoulders. One morning, as you prepared to head out the door, he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

“I think you need a day off,” he said, his voice soft but firm, the kind of tone that left no room for protest. “Today, we’re focusing on you.”

Before you could argue, he guided you back inside, the usual rush of the morning suddenly replaced with an unfamiliar calm.