She picked up the chopsticks, took a piece of fish, and put it in her mouth. The fish was tender, with a slight salty flavor and the aroma of char — exactly the same taste as twenty years ago.
Yui's tears suddenly welled up.
Holding the chopsticks, head lowered, she ate the fish piece by piece, finished the rice, and drank all the soup. Her tears dripped into the bowl, mixing with the miso soup, and she swallowed them along with it.
Yamamoto sat across from her, watching her finish the meal. His expression remained unchanged, but the hand resting on his knee had its knuckles clenched white.
"Finished?" he asked.
Yui nodded and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.
Yamamoto remained silent for a long time. "Yui," he finally spoke, his voice hoarse like sandpaper, "you have disappointed me greatly."
Yui lowered her head and said nothing.
