A knock.

Silence.

Another one.

Still nothing.

...

Rika nudged the door open, just enough to peer into the dimness inside.

“Ryu..?” she whispered.

But she closed it as quickly.

A little frown settled on her face but it didn’t last.

And dinner was waiting.

Rika slowly walked through the hallway back to the kitchen; meeting her mother sitting at the table. She settled herself on the chair but her gaze floated, aimless.

“Is your brother coming to eat?” Her mother asked.

“He’s sleeping.” She answered quietly.

She was staring at the small plate of stir-fried vegetables in front of her, but her attention remained elsewhere. Across, her mother sat with a cup of tea. Her eyes fixed somewhere past the table. 

Big shadows under her eyes but she wasn’t tired in the way that made people yawn or stretch, more the kind when they don’t talk, or frown when you ask a question.

Rika took a bite. 

The silence stretched between them. 

For a while.

Komaru sighed lightly, setting down her chopsticks down. 

Rika stared. The tea in her hands had gone cold, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“…”

“Mom, is Ryuya eating alright ?”

Komaru blinked as though the question had broken the monotony. 

“uhh..Yeah ? Why do you ask ?”

Rika glanced to the side—at the fridge, at the clock, at her own fingers. 

Then, she pushed her chair back with youthful vigor.

“I’ll bring food to him!” She reached for Ryuya’s untouched plate. 

Too slow.

 Komaru’s hand kept the plate just out of her reach.

 “You’ll wake him up if you do that Rika.” Komaru said, the words cleaving neatly through Rika's enthusiasm.

The silence stretched as an echo, Rika’s gaze dropping in defeat, staring at what was left of her plate, uncertain, her throat tightening.

Komaru exhaled again, softer this time.

“Let’s put it in the fridge for later, alright?” She added a smile—a small one. Enough to lift Rika just a little. 

“I’ll write a message !” Rika said, her voice rising again with newfound resolve.

She sprinted down the hallway to her bedroom, glancing at Dino settled on her bed before reaching into her drawer, fetching paper and pencils.

She returned to the hallway just as fast, pencil gripped tightly in her hand.

She sat on her knees next to Ryuya’s door, bending over with solemn determination to write the colored message : 

“Ryu, dinner is in the fridge, you need to eat or else !”

She paused, pondering for a bit..

Then.

“Or else, I’ll bite you and make you my dinner !” She wrote. 

She nodded, satisfied, then lowered herself, gazing at the dark line under the door. 

The note slid gently, disappearing into the quiet.

Rika quickly moved back to the kitchen, her steps thumping loudly through the hallway.

 Komaru was washing the dishes. 

Rika only stared for a long moment. 

Komaru shifted.

A half turn. 

Quickly; Rika retreated behind the wall, peeking only slightly.

“I see you, Rika,” Komaru said flatly without looking.

“But I’m hidden !” Rika shot back.

Komaru sighed, “I still can see you.” she replied, her voice level and unmoved.  

“Come on, isn't it time for your bath ?” 

Rika turned and darted down the hallway before Komaru could continue, getting to her bedroom.

 She scooped up Bunny and Dino from her bed before taking cover beneath her blanket.

Maybe, with some luck she’d not be found.

The low hum of the water boiler.

Emi stood for a moment near the counter, fingers wrapped around the handle of the teapot.

Steam danced softly from the spout.

She poured two cups in silence.

Her father was already at the table.

Emi slid into her seat across from him.

They ate in silence for a minute.

“How’s the showcase prep going?” he asked, his tone light.

Emi paused, her chopsticks hovering over a piece of fish. “It’s fine,” she said quickly, taking a bite before he could press further. 

“You’re working on a piece ?” He asked as he took a sip of his tea.

“It’s done” She hesitated, staring absently at her own cup.

  “I’m trying to make a new one” 

She glanced at him briefly before looking back at her rice. Her father nodded, setting his cup down with a soft clink. 

He didn’t push, but the silence that followed felt heavier than before, it stretched awkwardly before his voice broke the stillness once more.

  “I saw your brother the other day.” He said in that same, quiet tone.

Emi’s stomach tightened. She didn’t look up. 

“He wrote me a letter,” she said after a beat, the words coming out softer than she intended. 

“Said he’d come to the showcase if he can.” She added.

The words felt distant, detached, like she was recounting someone else’s story.

Her dad’s face brightened slightly. “That’d be great.”

“I don’t know if I believe it.” she murmured, her voice flat but heavy enough to make her second-guess. 

The silence settled a beat too long.

“Might be different this time.” he answered quietly, as though saying it aloud might make it true but the resignation she felt didn’t leave room for hope there.

“It's not a big deal anyway,” She said dismissively.

She took a sip of her tea and her dad didn’t push.

They finished the meal in a silence filled with unsaid thoughts, the weight of old expectations and disappointments. 

Eventually her dad stood, gathering the dishes with the same calm deliberation he always had.

“I’ll clean up,” he said, his voice light but final. 

She hesitated, her hands still resting on the table. 

She looked at him for a second before he shook his head.

“Go on.” He added, leaving little room for protest.

She nodded slowly, rising from her seat.

Though, the knot in her chest stayed tight, pulling at the edges of her thoughts like an unfinished thread.

A knock.

Silence.

Another one.

Still nothing.

...

Rika nudged the door open, just enough to peer into the dimness inside.

“Ryu..?” she whispered.

But she closed it as quickly.

A little frown settled on her face but it didn’t last.

And dinner was waiting.

Rika slowly walked through the hallway back to the kitchen; meeting her mother sitting at the table. She settled herself on the chair but her gaze floated, aimless.

“Is your brother coming to eat?” Her mother asked.

“He’s sleeping.” She answered quietly.

She was staring at the small plate of stir-fried vegetables in front of her, but her attention remained elsewhere. Across, her mother sat with a cup of tea. Her eyes fixed somewhere past the table. 

Big shadows under her eyes but she wasn’t tired in the way that made people yawn or stretch, more the kind when they don’t talk, or frown when you ask a question.

Rika took a bite. 

The silence stretched between them. 

For a while.

Komaru sighed lightly, setting down her chopsticks down. 

Rika stared. The tea in her hands had gone cold, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“…”

“Mom, is Ryuya eating alright ?”

Komaru blinked as though the question had broken the monotony. 

“uhh..Yeah ? Why do you ask ?”

Rika glanced to the side—at the fridge, at the clock, at her own fingers. 

Then, she pushed her chair back with youthful vigor.

“I’ll bring food to him!” She reached for Ryuya’s untouched plate. 

Too slow.

 Komaru’s hand kept the plate just out of her reach.

 “You’ll wake him up if you do that Rika.” Komaru said, the words cleaving neatly through Rika's enthusiasm.

The silence stretched as an echo, Rika’s gaze dropping in defeat, staring at what was left of her plate, uncertain, her throat tightening.

Komaru exhaled again, softer this time.

“Let’s put it in the fridge for later, alright?” She added a smile—a small one. Enough to lift Rika just a little. 

“I’ll write a message !” Rika said, her voice rising again with newfound resolve.

She sprinted down the hallway to her bedroom, glancing at Dino settled on her bed before reaching into her drawer, fetching paper and pencils.

She returned to the hallway just as fast, pencil gripped tightly in her hand.

She sat on her knees next to Ryuya’s door, bending over with solemn determination to write the colored message : 

“Ryu, dinner is in the fridge, you need to eat or else !”

She paused, pondering for a bit..

Then.

“Or else, I’ll bite you and make you my dinner !” She wrote. 

She nodded, satisfied, then lowered herself, gazing at the dark line under the door. 

The note slid gently, disappearing into the quiet.

Rika quickly moved back to the kitchen, her steps thumping loudly through the hallway.

 Komaru was washing the dishes. 

Rika only stared for a long moment. 

Komaru shifted.

A half turn. 

Quickly; Rika retreated behind the wall, peeking only slightly.

“I see you, Rika,” Komaru said flatly without looking.

“But I’m hidden !” Rika shot back.

Komaru sighed, “I still can see you.” she replied, her voice level and unmoved.  

“Come on, isn't it time for your bath ?” 

Rika turned and darted down the hallway before Komaru could continue, getting to her bedroom.

 She scooped up Bunny and Dino from her bed before taking cover beneath her blanket.

Maybe, with some luck she’d not be found.

The low hum of the water boiler.

Emi stood for a moment near the counter, fingers wrapped around the handle of the teapot.

Steam danced softly from the spout.

She poured two cups in silence.

Her father was already at the table.

Emi slid into her seat across from him.

They ate in silence for a minute.

“How’s the showcase prep going?” he asked, his tone light.

Emi paused, her chopsticks hovering over a piece of fish. “It’s fine,” she said quickly, taking a bite before he could press further. 

“You’re working on a piece ?” He asked as he took a sip of his tea.

“It’s done” She hesitated, staring absently at her own cup.

  “I’m trying to make a new one” 

She glanced at him briefly before looking back at her rice. Her father nodded, setting his cup down with a soft clink. 

He didn’t push, but the silence that followed felt heavier than before, it stretched awkwardly before his voice broke the stillness once more.

  “I saw your brother the other day.” He said in that same, quiet tone.

Emi’s stomach tightened. She didn’t look up. 

“He wrote me a letter,” she said after a beat, the words coming out softer than she intended. 

“Said he’d come to the showcase if he can.” She added.

The words felt distant, detached, like she was recounting someone else’s story.

Her dad’s face brightened slightly. “That’d be great.”

“I don’t know if I believe it.” she murmured, her voice flat but heavy enough to make her second-guess. 

The silence settled a beat too long.

“Might be different this time.” he answered quietly, as though saying it aloud might make it true but the resignation she felt didn’t leave room for hope there.

“It's not a big deal anyway,” She said dismissively.

She took a sip of her tea and her dad didn’t push.

They finished the meal in a silence filled with unsaid thoughts, the weight of old expectations and disappointments. 

Eventually her dad stood, gathering the dishes with the same calm deliberation he always had.

“I’ll clean up,” he said, his voice light but final. 

She hesitated, her hands still resting on the table. 

She looked at him for a second before he shook his head.

“Go on.” He added, leaving little room for protest.

She nodded slowly, rising from her seat.

Though, the knot in her chest stayed tight, pulling at the edges of her thoughts like an unfinished thread.