Maria moved with purpose, her slender fingers gracefully maneuvering the knob of the food mixer. With a gentle hum, the machine made an annoying sound and Yoru upon hearing pressed his hands to his ears, its blades slicing through a vibrant medley of fruits and vegetables she made as so to feed Yoru in a couple of gulps. drinkable food wasn't so bad as the doctor has recommended.

In the corner of the kitchen, a thin strip of evening's light sprung on Yoru, bound with a delicate rope that wrapped around the sturdy door handle. A serene expression gracing his features as he held a ripe strawberry in his hand, Seated upon a weathered wooden chair, he sat in quiet contentment, the ripe strawberry cradled in his hand fell. As exhaustion gently overtook him, Maria untied the rope, guiding him to his room. 

~The crushed strawberry bled red, its vibrant hue reminding of the stains on the apron~