The cold arrived the very next day.
Not "oh, there's a little breeze."
Indecisive August cold. The kind that seemed to forget what season it was supposed to be.
Harumi opened the front door.
Immediately closed it.
— That's not possible. Yesterday was iced-tea-commercial summer.
Izumi, wrapped in a coat like a burrito:
— I told you the weather was going to turn.
— This isn't turning. This is climate betrayal.
Still, someone had to buy groceries.
And since Izumi claimed "emotional hypothermia," the mission fell to Harumi.
Crumpled shopping list in her pocket.Determination in her eyes.Absolutely no appropriate winter preparation.
The corner market still had its friendly little bell on the door.
Chime-chime.
— Gooood morn— — she walked in cheerfully, then felt the temperature inside. — …or maybe not that good.
She grabbed a basket and wandered down the aisles, muttering to herself.
— Rice. Milk. Soy sauce. Something warm. Something that looks like I know how to cook it.
She was comparing tofu prices with an expression far too serious for someone who clearly had no idea how tofu worked…
When something bumped into her leg.
She froze.
Almost yelped — but stopped herself in time. The small person attached to her coat already looked scared enough.
Harumi looked down gently, trying not to appear startled.
A little girl. Crooked scarf. Eyes too big for her face. Holding the hem of Harumi's coat like it was the last anchor on earth.
Her cheeks were wet from crying.
She looked… lost.
And—
Red-haired.
R-RED HAIR??? OH MY GOD SHE'S ADORABLE. Act normal, Harumi. Act normal.
Harumi immediately crouched down.
— H-Hi… it's okay!! I'm not very experienced, but I am friendly, I promise!!
Silence.
The girl didn't even blink. Maybe nerves. Maybe cold.
— W-What's your name?
The girl sniffed.
— M-Mei…
— Hi, Mei. I'm Harumi. Are you looking for someone?
Mei hesitated.
Then did something that completely dismantled any remaining tension.
She bowed.
Even while crying.
— I'm sorry!
Harumi blinked.
— Are you apologizing for existing in the candy aisle?
Mei stared at the floor.
Before she could answer, a firm voice came from the end of the aisle.
— Mei.
Not loud.
But immediate.
A boy approached. A little older. Posture too straight. Eyes too sharp.
He didn't look angry.
He looked alert.
His gaze passed over Harumi quickly — assessing.
Distance. Expression. Groceries. Intent.
He stepped forward and took his sister's hand.
— I told you not to wander off.
His voice wasn't aggressive.
It was controlled.
Mei squeezed his hand but didn't let go of Harumi's coat.
The boy noticed.
Then looked at Harumi.
— Sorry. She gets scared easily.
Harumi raised both hands.
— It's okay! I get scared easily too. Especially by tofu prices.
Silence.
He didn't laugh.
But he wasn't rude either.
He just… observed.
— We're leaving.
Before they could go, a store employee approached, expression tight.
— You two again.
The boy went rigid instantly.
Mei lowered her eyes.
Harumi felt the shift in the air like someone had switched off an invisible heater.
— They were just standing here, — Harumi said lightly.
The employee crossed her arms.
— They keep hanging around. Customers complain.
Harumi frowned.
— Hanging around… buying food?
— Their mother disappeared. No one knows anything. They're always showing up here.
Heavy silence.
Heavier than Harumi expected.
The boy tightened his grip on his sister's hand.
— No need to yell. We didn't steal anything today.
Today?
Harumi's thoughts stumbled over that word.
— We're leaving, — he repeated.
No arguing.
No complaining.
Just preparing to go.
That irritated Harumi more than if he'd shouted.
She stood up.
— Are they doing anything wrong right now?
The employee huffed.
— You must be new.
— I am. And that has nothing to do with you scolding children. Let's go.
The boy, already halfway turned, glanced back.
He didn't look offended.
He looked used to it.
That was worse.
Near the exit, Harumi crouched down again.
— Have you eaten today?
— We're fine, — the boy replied too quickly. — We'll figure it out.
Figure it out.
Thirteen years old and already saying "we'll figure it out."
Harumi tilted her head.
— I didn't ask if you're fine. I asked if you ate.
Mei looked at her brother.
Then whispered softly:
— I think we should say thank you…
The boy closed his eyes for half a second.
Defeated by his sister's politeness.
— …Takeru, — he said finally. — My name's Takeru.
Oh? First-name basis already? Is this trust? Is this character development?
He cut through her internal celebration with pure honesty.
— I don't want to be close. It's just easier.
Harumi smiled.
— Nice to meet you, Takeru the Suspicious.
He almost reacted.
Almost.
Mei gave a tiny smile.
— I can help carry the groceries.
Harumi gasped dramatically.
— Absolutely not! I will carry you on my back, Miss Adorable Mei!
She laughed lightly.
But underneath that, she saw it clearly.
Mei wasn't offering help.
She was trying not to be a burden.
Harumi inhaled slowly.
And made the most irresponsibly responsible decision of her life.
— Okay. New proposal!
Takeru straightened immediately.
— What proposal?
— I live on the big corner lot. Low wall. Two entrances. The house that looks like a retired inn.
— We know which one, — he said.
Of course they did.
Everyone did.
— Great. So. I was going to make dinner. But I accidentally cook massive portions.
A lie.
— If you want… you can come eat. No obligation. No debt. Just hot food.
Takeru evaluated.
Looked at the cold outside.
Looked at his sister.
Looked at Harumi.
— We're leaving after.
— Obviously, — she said. — I also leave after I eat. That's how dinner works.
He narrowed his eyes.
— You talk weird.
— I am weird. But I cook well when motivated.
Mei timidly raised her hand.
— Do you have eggs?
Harumi placed a hand over her heart.
I have nothing but eggs.
— Of course!
Silence.
Takeru let out a long sigh.
Not surrender.
Calculation.
— Just today.
— Yes, yes! Mister Extremely Serious and Suspicious! — she replied with a bright thumbs-up.
— Stop giving me weird nicknames. You're strange.
Harumi lifted the basket like she'd just won an invisible war.
— Excellent! Let's go before I freeze dramatically on the sidewalk!
As they stepped out, the store owner muttered under his breath:
— This will be trouble.
Harumi smiled over her shoulder.
— I already have trouble. Now I'll have company.
Outside, the wind was even colder.
August shouldn't feel like this.
Takeru walked half a step behind.
Not out of submission.
Out of strategy.
Watching.
Mei rode piggyback on Harumi's back, holding the light grocery bag with both hands, focused on her task.
Harumi talked too much about how rice saves lives.
The corner house appeared ahead.
Big.
Quiet.
Waiting.
Takeru looked at it like someone measuring unfamiliar territory.
Mei smiled.
— It looks warm.
Harumi opened the gate.
— Not yet.
But it will be.
And without realizing it…
She had just opened the door to something much bigger than an improvised dinner.