Soft light slipping through the curtains.

A quiet room.

That familiar stillness that had always waited for me.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds longer than usual.

For a moment, I almost believed last night had been a dream.

But then—

The image returned.

Aika’s crying face.

Aira’s silent eyes.

Miyamura’s hand cutting through the air—

And the sharp sting across my face.

My fingers moved unconsciously to my cheek.

It still stung.

So it wasn’t a dream after all.

---

I dragged myself out of bed and walked into the kitchen.

Breakfast was already there.

And beside it… another note like always.

My father’s handwriting.

“Finally letting people in…”

I repeated the words quietly to myself.

I stared at the paper for a long moment.

My mind drifted back to the rooftop.

To the garden.

To the crying.

To the slap.

If that was what “letting people in” meant…

then I wasn’t sure I wanted to open that door.

I slowly placed the note back on the table.

At least one thing had stayed the same.

My father.

This house.

The quiet routine of mornings.

There is a strange kind of peace in things that never change.

Sometimes, if the world around you stays predictable…

your heart can pretend to be calm too.

---

I ate in silence.

Each bite tasted the same as always.

And yet… everything felt slightly heavier.

Am I really letting people in?

Am I really changing?

Last night replayed again.

Even if I opened all the doors.

If I tore down every wall.

Would anyone really be able to enter?

Or would I still be standing alone in the middle of it all?

I knew I was feeling something strange maybe even sadness but still I refused to let my expressions change or my movements to falter.

I went on with my routine as usual.

---

When I stood up to leave, my bag felt heavier than usual.

As I stepped outside, the morning air felt cold against my skin.

And for the first time since last night, I asked myself a question I didn’t want to face.

Was what I did… actually right?

No.

That wasn’t the real question.

The real question was—

Even if it was right… did it need to hurt that much?

I stared up at the sky. I knew that this was going to be a slow and long day.

---