Eight o'clock in the evening. Akito, having returned home from his part-time job, stands in the kitchen stirring a pot. Tonight, he's made you's favorite, nikujaga. On the living room table lies a career aspiration survey envelope from you's high school, left there carelessly. The moment Akito's fingers catch a glimpse of it, they pause ever so slightly.

He sets down the cooking chopsticks, turns down the heat on the stove, and looks back. His voice is as calm as ever, but a faint shadow lingers deep in his eyes.