Miura tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she sat in the grocery store parking lot, the Oklahoma heat already making the air thick despite the AC. She exhaled, reaching for her phone and dialing Urara before stepping out of the car.

The call picked up almost instantly. “Miura, if you’re callin’ me from a store, I swear—”

Miura smirked, pushing open the glass doors as the blast of cool air hit her. “Relax, I actually need your help this time.”

“That’s a first,” Urara quipped. “What’s up?”

Miura grabbed a basket and started weaving through the aisles, skimming over the shelves. “Just… I dunno. What do I do with a kid all day?”

There was a pause. Then, Urara groaned like she was physically in pain. “Miura! You’re asking me? You, the big sister of our group, the one who keeps us all in line? You seriously don’t know how to entertain an eight-year-old?”

Miura grabbed a bag of coffee, barely registering Urara’s dramatics. “It’s different. I’m not her sister. I’m responsible for her now.”

“Yeah, and responsible means fun, too. You can’t just sit inside all day! You gotta do something fun!”

Miura absentmindedly added a few more items to her basket, raising a brow. “What, you want me to take her on some grand adventure? A treasure hunt in a dusty old attic?”

There was a beat of silence. Then—

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Urara’s voice blasted through the speaker, making Miura nearly drop her phone.

“Damn, Urara,” Miura muttered, shifting her phone away from her ear. “Tryna blow my eardrum out?”

“I’m serious! Take her to the park, dummy!”

Miura furrowed her brows, scanning the shelves as she walked. “A park?”

“Yes, a park! The one your dad used to take us to after school! Mitch Park!” Urara emphasized the name like it was obvious. “It’s perfect! It’s huge, got tons of space, and—ugh, do I seriously have to explain how parks work?!”

Miura hummed, tossing a pack of strawberries into the basket. She did remember. Back when things were simpler, before all the fame, before everything—her dad would pick them up from school and drive them there. They’d race to the swings, sneak gas station snacks under the trees, and stay until the sky turned orange.

Maybe Urara had a point.

“…Alright,” Miura relented. “Mitch Park it is.”

“Good! And make sure she gets one of those overpriced ice creams from the truck. It’s, like, a childhood rite of passage.”

Miura sighed, but there was a small, amused smile on her lips. “Yeah, yeah. Catch you later.”

She hung up, letting the phone drop into her pocket as she moved toward the checkout. The afternoon sun was bright when she stepped outside, heat radiating from the pavement. Tossing the groceries into the back of her car, she leaned against the door for a moment, arms crossed, eyes flicking toward the horizon.

A park trip, huh?

It wasn’t much. But maybe it was exactly what they needed.

A few days had passed since their trip to Black Mesa. The house had settled into a quiet rhythm—well, quieter than before. Sona was getting more comfortable, slowly making the space her own in small ways—her shoes by the door, her stuffed animal sitting on the couch when she wasn’t holding it, the occasional clinking of cups as she helped set the table. It was… different. But not unwelcome.

Miura stepped into the house, setting her keys down just as she caught the sound of soft strumming coming from the living room. She peered inside to see Sona sitting cross-legged on the couch, Gramps beside her, guiding her small hands over the frets of an acoustic guitar.

“Not too bad, kiddo,” he said with a grin, watching as Sona focused intently. “Just keep yer fingers steady, let the sound come to you.”

Miura leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Didn’t take long for you to start teaching her, huh?”

Gramps glanced up with a chuckle. “Figured it’s never too early to start.”

Sona looked up at Miura, her red eyes bright with excitement. “I’m learning!”

Miura smirked. “Yeah? Well, how about a break?”

Sona tilted her head. “A break?”

Miura pushed off the doorframe. “We’re going out. You ever been to a park before?”

Sona’s face lit up, her fingers barely able to set the guitar down fast enough. “A park? Really?”

Gramps chuckled, ruffling Sona’s hair as she hopped off the couch. “Go on, then. But don’t go causin’ trouble, ya hear?”

Sona nodded eagerly before grabbing her shoes. Miura grabbed her keys, giving Gramps a knowing glance before leading Sona out the door.

Mitch Park was as lively as Miura remembered. Kids ran across the grass, their laughter ringing through the warm air. Parents sat on benches, chatting as they kept a watchful eye on their little ones. The faint scent of fresh-cut grass and warm pavement filled the air, mixed with the distant melody of an ice cream truck making its rounds.

Sona wandered toward the swings, kicking at a stray pebble. She wasn’t sure what to do at first—she hadn’t really played like this before. She sat down, gently kicking her feet as she watched the other kids.

Then, she spotted a boy nearby, his messy orange hair sticking out as he swung a long stick through the air.

“Take that! And that! You’ll never defeat me, Ganon!” the boy shouted, twirling the stick as if fighting an invisible enemy. He crouched low, dodging an imaginary attack before pausing when he noticed Sona watching him. He straightened up, eyes wide.

“Hey! You wanna play?” he asked, grinning.

Sona blinked. “What… are you doing?”

The boy brandished his stick proudly. “I’m Link! From Zelda! I’m fightin’ monsters, duh.” He pointed the stick at her, then suddenly gasped, eyes lighting up with an idea. “Wait! You can be Zelda!”

Sona frowned. “What’s a Zelda?”

The boy looked at her like she had just grown a second head. “You don’t know who Zelda is?! She’s the princess! And she’s got magic! You can cast spells an’ help me fight!”

Sona considered this, then gave a small nod. “Okay,” she said, standing up. “I’ll be Zelda.”

Louis grinned, immediately handing her a smaller stick. “Alright! You can do magic, so if I get in trouble, you gotta save me, okay?”

Sona took the stick with a determined nod. “Okay!”

The boy grinned. “Awesome! I’m Louis, by the way.”

Sona tilted her head. “Lou?”

He blinked. “Lou-ee, but Lou’s fine.”

Sona nodded, testing the name out. “Lou.”

And just like that, they ran off into their imaginary battle. Louis led the charge, swinging wildly at invisible foes while Sona followed close behind, waving her “magic” stick and shouting spells she made up on the spot.

“Fireball!”

“Lightning strike!”

“Explosion!”

Louis gasped dramatically and pointed ahead. “Watch out! It’s a huge monster! We gotta use all our powers!

Sona grinned, spinning in a circle before dramatically pointing her stick forward. “Boom!”

Louis leapt backward, pretending to be blown away by the force of her magic. “Whoa! That was awesome!” He sat up and laughed. “You’re really good at this.”

Sona beamed. “Yeah! That was fun!”

For nearly half an hour, they ran through the playground, pretending the slide was a treacherous mountain and the monkey bars were a fortress to climb. Sona, despite having no idea what game they were truly playing, followed Louis’s lead without question. Her laughter was light and carefree in a way that felt… new.

Then, the sound of distant chimes filled the air. The ice cream truck had pulled up along the curb, drawing a small crowd of kids toward it. Louis immediately turned to Sona. “Wanna get ice cream?”

Sona hesitated before looking over at Miura, who was sitting on a bench not too far away.

Louis tugged her hand. “C’mon! Let’s ask.”

Sona let herself be pulled along, stopping in front of Miura. “Can we get ice cream?” she asked, practically bouncing in place.

Miura sighed, already reaching into her pocket. “Yeah, yeah.” She handed Sona some cash. “Go get whatever you want.”

Louis grinned. “Thanks, Miss Miura!”

Miura blinked at him. “...Miss?”

Louis tilted his head. “Uh… just Miura?”

She smirked. “Better.”

The kids ran off, chattering about which ice cream they were going to pick.

“That your kid?”

Miura turned her head to see a man approaching, hands casually tucked into his pockets. He looked to be around her age, his dark hair slightly tousled, brown eyes holding a quiet curiosity.

Miura raised a brow. “Yeah. Sorta. Adopted her.”

He points towards the spot next to her on the bench. “Mind if I sit?”

Miura glanced at him, then shrugged. “Go ahead.”

Mark took the seat, resting his forearms on his knees as he watched the kids. “She seems happy.”

Miura exhaled, a faint smile began to peak. “Yeah. She does.”

There was a brief pause before he extended a hand. “Mark.”

She studied him for a second before shaking his hand. “Miura.”

His grip was firm, steady, but there was no pressure behind it—just casual, easy. After a beat, he nodded toward the park. “You from around here?”

Miura leaned back slightly. “Yeah. Grew up here.”

“Same.” Mark glanced at her. “Guess we never crossed paths before.”

Miura smirked faintly. “Maybe we did. Just at different times.”

He hummed, considering that. “You in college?”

Miura shook her head. “Took a… different path.”

Mark chuckled. “I get that.”

She nodded toward Louis, who was licking his melting popsicle before it could drip down his fingers. “Yours?”

Mark shook his head. “Little brother.”

Miura raised a brow. “You’re looking after him?”

“Yeah,” Mark said, his expression softening slightly. “Since our parents passed, it’s just been the two of us.”

Miura didn’t say anything right away, watching as Louis eagerly chattered to Sona about his popsicle. Finally, she said, “Sounds like a lot.”

Mark exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. But, y’know… you do what you gotta do.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the distant laughter of children filling the warm afternoon air.

Miura’s gaze lingered on the two kids, their legs swinging as they ate. “They seem cute together.”

Mark blinked, caught off guard, before a slow, amused smile crept onto his face. “Didn’t expect that from you.”

Miura smirked. “Neither did I.”

Mark shook his head, watching as Louis and Sona ran back toward the playground, their laughter carrying through the air. He glanced back at Miura. “Guess I should be thanking you.”

Miura raised a brow. “For what?”

Mark nodded toward Louis. “He’s been quiet since our parents passed. Kept to himself a lot. Didn’t think he’d warm up to anyone this fast.”

Miura looked back toward the kids, something warm settling in her chest. Maybe Urara was right. Maybe she was good at this whole taking-care-of-someone thing.

And maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t so bad.