The sticky note stayed on the table.

Haruka saw it out of the corner of her eye as she carried in the plate from the previous night. The yellow paper, so tiny and vibrant, stood out so starkly against the dull table and the small room, which still felt unfamiliar to her. The short note in tidy cursive, tilting slightly to the right:

"Don't forget to eat."

It was routine. Even too bland, like the ones that are typically scrawled on advertising food boxes or motivational phrases in office calendars. But Haruka was as sure as anything—this wasn't an app sticky note. This was written out. And not by her.

She curled her fingers over the edge of the sticky note, almost removing it from the table. But hesitated there.

"Why is this written in this manner?" she muttered to herself.

Maybe it was because Kaito sympathized with her, or out of courtesy. But. Nevertheless, it was a bit of something no one had done for her lately. Haruka leaned back on the wall and sat on the ground, gazing at the message. Folding her knees close, suddenly she realized: it was the first time in days she had taken a bite out of her food.

Hot food.

Not yesterday's breakfast, stale bread, or on-the-spot tin biscuit. But cooked food, warmed through, and. tastier than she had expected. She even raised her hand, touching her cheek, to discover there was a small warmth, not from the meal, but from something which was slowly building and not so easy to pinpoint.

"Don't forget to eat," she read again, this time willingly.

For some reason or another, Haruka did not want to throw away the paper. She got up, very slowly reaching the window. The window was still closed. The white thin curtains created the outside light to seem soft, like a shadow of an unfinished dream.

She opened the curtains a fraction, just to see the world beyond this town. Narrow alleys, frayed buildings, and the sky at morning, gradually filling itself with color. And then, on impulse, he stuck the sticky note onto the windowpane, right where the sun illuminated the corner.

"How strange," she said, palely smiling. "What's wrong with me?"

There had been warmth she hated and yearned for.

A feeling that hadn't shown up in a long time.

Haruka didn't even open her phone that day aside from looking at the map of this little town. She didn't know what to do in this unfamiliar place. Work? I don't know. School? School was no longer a choice in her life. But she wanted to go out a little—even if it was just to the minimarket to buy groceries.

After her shower and dress-up, Haruka scowled at her own face in the small bathroom mirror. Her hair was still disheveled, eyes puffy, but. Something was different. She herself didn't even realize that from morning on, her mood wasn't as heavy as it had been last night.

All because of the sticky note?

She smiled. Smiled to herself. But the sticky note stuck to the window, still there, and seemed to glare at her each time she passed the room. She remembered the food deliveryman's face. Kaito. His smile was relaxed, and his speech tone was also warm. Unlike most people Haruka had ever met.

"Why did he write that?" she growled for the third time.

But like before, she did not ask questions.

Simply stared at it. Read it once more. Then walked around some more.

That night, Haruka returned to the room with some groceries: instant noodles, mineral water, and a few snacks. She was not hungry, but she wanted to eat. For reasons unknown, she now felt that she had a goal—a goal to keep doing little things like eating and sleeping.

For the very first time after arriving in this city, Haruka turned on a small heater at the side of the room. She heated the noodles, transferred them into a bowl, and settled in with her legs wrapped around her arms. Drawing in the fragrance of the plain soup, she took up the chopsticks in her hand and began to eat.

And indeed, she ate it.

She even took the bowl and slurped down the remaining soup until it was finished.

"Why does this taste so good?" she panted.

It wasn't the taste of the noodles by itself. But the taste was. alive again.

And when evening started falling, before pulling the window blinds, Haruka hesitated. Her gaze turned back to the sticky note, which was beginning to warp slightly due to the sun's afternoon light.

She did not know anyone named Kaito. But the sticky note gave her this feeling. there.

There existed someone in the world who had time to take the trouble of writing something down for her, even if only a single sentence.

And that evening, Haruka slept more rapidly than ever before.

For the first time, with no nightmares.