Sakura's backyard looked like a soy sauce commercial.
A low wooden table sat beneath the shade of an old tree. A vegetable garden so perfectly organized it couldn't possibly be accidental. A small pond where lazy koi traced elegant circles in the water.
Harumi sat down and took a deep breath.
— This is way too slice-of-life. I'm suspicious.
Izumi was already eating.
— If it's a trap, at least it's delicious.
Sakura set the dishes down calmly: fluffy rice, grilled fish, fresh vegetables from the garden, steaming miso soup.
Harumi took her first bite.
And froze.
Not dramatically.
But internally.
The texture. The seasoning. The smell of the wooden veranda. The soft sound of water from the pond.
Something about it was… too familiar.
— Is it good? — Sakura asked, watching her.
— It's… — Harumi replied slowly. — It tastes like Sunday.
Izumi looked up.
Sakura tilted her head.
— You girls used to come every Sunday.
Silence.
Izumi chewed more slowly.
Harumi blinked.
— I… used to?
Sakura smiled softly.
— You, Itsuki, everyone running around this yard like you owned the world.
Izumi gently placed her chopsticks down.
— I knew it.
Harumi turned to her.
— Knew what?
Izumi gestured around them.
— This house. That tree. The pond. I remembered. I just wasn't sure.
Sakura looked at Harumi with that gentle come on, sweetheart, you can do it expression.
And then it came.
Not a full memory.
Just flashes.
A ball rolling through the dirt.Someone laughing too loud. Then crying too loud.A boy shouting, "Haru!"Her falling into the pond.Sakura's pretend scolding.
Harumi's eyes widened.
Blink.
Blink again.
She shot up from her seat so fast the table shook.
Izumi grabbed the edge just in time to prevent the miso soup from becoming an international incident.
— AUNT SAKURA?!
Absolute silence.
A koi made a soft plop in the water.
Sakura's smile widened slowly.
— Took you long enough, Haru-chan.
Harumi grabbed her head.
— HOW DID I NOT REALIZE?! YOU HAVEN'T CHANGED AT ALL!
She ran around the table and hugged Sakura with way too much force.
Kissed her cheek.
Accidentally messed up her own hair in the process.
— I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Oh my God, I'm terrible with faces when I'm not expecting to see the face!
Izumi was still holding the table steady.
— I mentally warned you at least five times.
Harumi pulled back slightly, still holding Sakura's hands.
— I forgot this house… but I didn't forget the feeling. That's why it felt familiar!
Sakura laughed.
— Some memories stay in the body before they return to the head.
Izumi resumed eating.
— I remember Itsuki stealing tomatoes from Grandpa Hiroshi's garden.
— IT WASN'T STEALING! — Harumi shot back immediately. — It was… agricultural borrowing.
Sakura sighed dramatically.
— You two were so funny together.
The name lingered in the air.
Itsuki.
Harumi slowly sat back down.
— How is he?
Sakura's expression mixed pride and confusion.
— Ah… my son is… doing projects.
— Projects? — Izumi repeated.
— He studies… works… travels… then studies again… sometimes he sends photos of buildings, sometimes computers, sometimes airports.
Harumi blinked.
— What did he become?
Sakura opened her hands helplessly.
— I'm not entirely sure.
Izumi nodded seriously.
— Classic Itsuki.
Harumi started laughing.
— Does he still make that intense face like he's solving the universe?
— He does, — Sakura answered immediately.
— Is he still a scaredy-cat who cries over everything?
— Not as much as before.
The three of them laughed, warmed by old memories.
Harumi rested her chin on her hand.
— Wow… how long has it been?
— He should come spend the holidays here soon, — Sakura said far too casually.
Silence.
Harumi went completely still for half a second.
— He's coming HERE?
— Yes.
Izumi watched her sister like someone watching a small fire start in dry grass.
Harumi attempted calm.
Failed.
— Oh. Cool. Normal. Casual. Person I definitely did not fall into a pond in front of.
Sakura laughed loudly.
— You pushed him first.
— IRRELEVANT DETAIL!
The mood stayed light, warm, comfortable.
Until Sakura asked:
— And your mother? How is she?
Izumi subtly rolled her eyes.
Harumi took a deep breath but kept smiling.
— She's good. Being… herself.
Sakura chuckled.
— Unconventional as always?
— Extremely.
— Still in her country?
— Still. But her job is wrapping up. She should come back soon.
Sakura grew nostalgic.
— I'd love to see her. And your father too.
Harumi nodded.
For a second, something quieter passed through her gaze.
But she quickly switched back to animated mode.
— When she comes back, she's going to invade this house too. Consider yourselves warned.
Izumi muttered:
— She'll complain about the dust for three hours.
— Fair! — Harumi shot back.
After lunch, Sakura gave them a proper summary tour of the town.
She showed them the garden — which apparently had a long history with Harumi.
Harumi touched the leaves like she was rediscovering a personal museum.
— I pulled carrots from here, didn't I? Ahhh, I remember running around here!!
— You pulled them too early, — Sakura corrected.
Harumi made a face that clearly said irrelevant detail.
Izumi burst out laughing.
— I remember that!
Farther ahead, they could see Lake Hanamori in the distance.
The water reflected the intense blue sky. It was warm for August. A gentle breeze. Sunlight that was almost too comfortable.
— It's hot, huh? — Harumi commented.
— Enjoy it, — Sakura said. — They say the weather will turn this week.
Izumi frowned.
— Turn how?
— Colder than August should be.
Harumi grimaced.
— That's… kind of weird, isn't it?
Sakura shrugged.
— This town likes to surprise people.
Later, the sisters returned home.
Exhausted.
Overfed.
Overloaded with information.
Izumi collapsed onto the tatami.
— So you just forgot an entire chunk of your childhood.
Harumi lay on her back, staring at the ceiling.
— I didn't forget.
She placed a hand over her chest.
— It was just stored somewhere else.
Comfortable silence.
After a few seconds:
— He's coming back… — Harumi murmured.
Izumi turned onto her side.
— Are you already nervous?
— No.
Pause.
— Maybe.
Another pause.
— VERY. AAAH I MISS EVERYONE SO MUCH!!!
The house creaked.
The sun was starting to set.
— You don't have their contact info?
— No… I didn't even have a phone when we moved away.
— Right. We didn't need one back then.
And for the first time since they arrived, Harumi knew exactly where she was.
It wasn't just a new town.
It was a return.
And something there was about to change again.
But that…
Was tomorrow's problem.