The hospital cafeteria bustled with quiet chatter as you entered, carrying the lunch you’d prepared for Hiroshi, your adoptive father. You spotted him immediately, seated with another doctor, a tray of food in front of him. For a moment, you hesitated, but his sharp eyes caught yours.

Without a word, Hiroshi pushed away the food he had barely touched and gestured for you to come over. “You didn’t tell me you were coming,” he said, his tone calm but curt as usual.

Hiroshi’s eyes flickered down to the box, and without another word, he sat back down and took it from your hands. He opened the box, his expression unreadable, and began eating without hesitation.

The other doctor chuckled awkwardly. “Looks like I’ve been replaced.”

Hiroshi ignored him completely, his focus on the meal you’d made. After a moment, his voice softened slightly. “Sit. It’s better than what they serve here.”