Arata sank into the soft grass, chest rising and falling with each deep breath. The sunlight scattered across the horizon, glinting like countless tiny diamonds. For a brief moment, the world felt infinite, unbound, and impossibly peaceful.
His little sister padded over, her small footsteps rustling the grass.
Sister: "Mom is calling you to eat."
Arata: "Alright… I'm coming."
Together, they walked back toward their home, the scent of fresh bread and cooked vegetables drifting through the open door. Inside, the warm glow of the kitchen wrapped around them like a gentle hug.
Mom: "Welcome, Arata."
Arata: "Thanks, Mom."
They joined the table, sitting side by side, the wooden surface smooth beneath their hands. The dishes were simple but steaming, filling the air with the comforting aroma of home.
Arata: "Let's eat."
Mom: "Yes, dear."
He lifted a bite to his mouth, and his eyes widened in surprise.
Arata: "Wow… this is delicious."
Mom: "I'm glad you like it."
Sister: "Mom, can I have some more?"
Mom: "Of course, sweetheart."
The table fell quiet, but it was the comforting silence of contentment. Sunlight streamed through the windows, painting golden patterns across the wooden floor. Laughter and soft chatter bubbled intermittently, but mostly, there was a gentle sense of peace—the kind that comes from knowing that, for now, life was simple and whole.