Monday lunch break. In the small cafeteria room of the Shiomi Port Administrative Office, Mizunatsuki Shiori spread out her bento box. The usual tamagoyaki. Simmered vegetables from last night. Nothing remarkable—the same meal repeated every day. Yet Shiori carefully peeled away the plastic wrap and gripped her chopsticks. "Shiori-san." The voice belonged to Kamiya Sayaka. Her fellow part-time coworker, with her vibrant chestnut-brown hair loosely gathered, sat down beside Shiori with a cheerful smile. "You know, lately I've been thinking your expression seems brighter." Sayaka's words sounded like a casual observation, but her eyes held a definite curiosity. At thirty-eight, she was sensitive to changes around her—both as a mother and as a colleague. "Huh?" Shiori stopped her chopsticks mid-motion. She'd never been conscious of brightening her expression. The smile she made in front of the mirror each morning—she'd thought it was always the same. "That's not true." She denied it. Reflexively. But Sayaka continued, still smiling. "No, really. Something happened, didn't it? Maybe something good?" Friendly prying. Harmless, collegial concern. And that—that was what made Shiori's chest ache. "...There's really nothing." She offered a smile. Her usual smile. But in that moment—a figure flashed across her mind. An expressionless face. Calm gray eyes. The quiet presence of Sakuma Tsubasa, as she'd first seen him at Ushio-kaze Elementary School. (That's wrong. Not because of something like that.) Shiori hurried to rein herself in. It couldn't be. He was a teacher. Rikuto's homeroom teacher. A person in that kind of position. Sayaka watched Shiori carefully. She didn't miss the faint blush that colored Shiori's cheeks for just an instant. "Ah, something really did happen. It's written all over your face." Her tone carried a teasing lilt, a hint of Kansai dialect mixed in. "No, really." Even as she said it, Shiori tried desperately to cool her head. But her heartbeat was unmistakably quickening. "Well, okay then," Sayaka laughed. "But it's nice to have something fun happen sometimes. You work so hard with your job and raising Rikuto." Kind words. But to Shiori, they sounded like pressure. "Thank you." She whispered it softly. Mouri Shuhei, the director, poked his head out from the office. Sixty-one years old. A gentle man with the warmth of age. "You two, lunch break's ending." With those words, the conversation naturally ended. Shiori felt both relief and something catching in her heart. Afternoon. Back at her desk work, Shiori focused on organizing documents. Greeting visitors, answering phones, filing papers. She proceeded through her usual tasks at her usual pace. But Sayaka's words kept surfacing in her mind. (My expression got brighter?) A change she hadn't noticed herself. But others could see it. (Am I... being watched by someone?) That thought quietly kindled in Shiori's heart. --- The weekend. A PTA cleaning activity was scheduled at Ushio-kaze Elementary School. After finishing her part-time shift, Shiori headed to the school. Blue sky. Early summer sunlight reflected white off the school building's walls. Parents gathered in front of the gymnasium. Some brought their children; others came alone. Vice Principal Ozaki Noriko was explaining the work assignments. A thin woman wearing glasses. Her manner was businesslike but not unpleasant. "Now then, please divide into your assigned groups. For the hallway window cleaning, we'll split between north and south sides." Shiori checked the assignment sheet. Next to her name: "North hallway—window cleaning." She headed to her assigned area and received a cloth and bucket along with the other parents. She pulled on work gloves. She was ready. She climbed toward the second-floor hallway. Her footsteps echoed on the stairs. The scent of early summer in the school building, weeks into the new term. The smell of chalk dust, textbooks, and that pleasant aroma of a space where children spent their days. She arrived at the north hallway on the second floor. There, Shiori held her breath. Sakuma Tsubasa was standing there. The silver piercing in his right ear glinted in the sunlight. His navy shirt sleeves were rolled up, and he already held a cloth in his hand. His gray eyes were directed toward the windows. "...Ah." Shiori started to speak but stopped. Tsubasa slowly turned toward her. For just an instant, his expression seemed to soften—but it returned to its usual state just as quickly. "Mizunatsuki-san. So you'll be helping with this section." Minimal words. A calm tone, carrying no emotion. But what Shiori felt in that moment was— (This person is looking at me.) That certainty. "Yes. Thank you for having me." She responded in polite language. Maintaining professional distance, her usual manner. The work began. In silence, the two of them wiped the windows. Shiori took the east-facing windows; Tsubasa took the west. The soft sound of cloth pressing against glass echoed through the hallway. Beyond the windows lay the schoolyard. Since it was after school, there were no children. Only the broad lawn and the fresh green leaves swaying in the breeze. As they worked, Shiori found herself glancing at Tsubasa again and again. He was truly meticulous. He wiped every corner of the glass with careful attention. The window frames, the tracks—nothing escaped him. In each movement, she could feel a steady, deliberate intention. (No matter what he does, he's serious about it.) She whispered that to herself. For a while, silence continued. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. If anything, it was pleasant. Two people in one space, working toward the same purpose. That simple, pure state. "Mizunatsuki-san." Tsubasa spoke suddenly. Shiori's heart jumped. She turned toward him. But Tsubasa kept his gaze on the window. Still wiping, he continued quietly. "Please don't push yourself too hard." Rikuto has mentioned several times that his mother is busy. Please take care not to exhaust yourself." For a moment, Shiori lost her words. It had been so long since anyone had worried about her. "...Thank you." That was all she could manage. Tsubasa nodded. He said nothing more. He simply continued working in silence. But Shiori's heart was shaken deeply. (This person...) She watched him. Expressionless, yet sincere. Taciturn, yet possessed of a strong heart. He truly saw Rikuto. And— He was seeing her too, wasn't he? "Thank you." She whispered it again, softly. But Tsubasa didn't answer. He simply continued his work. Shiori kept moving her hands as well. From deeper in the hallway, she could hear the voices of other parents. "Let's make sure this is clean too." "Got it." Ordinary conversation. But the silence that enveloped the two of them felt like a different world entirely. Eventually, the cleaning activity ended. They gathered in the gymnasium to hear the vice principal's closing remarks. Everyone was sweating. Some groups had included children in the work, and the bond between parent and child was evident. Shiori stood at a distance from Tsubasa. Yet his presence remained strongly etched in her heart. Leaving the school building, she headed home. She arrived at Corpo Hamazaki as evening fell. Rikuto was already home, doing his homework in the living room. "Mom, you must be tired," he said, looking up. "Thank you," Shiori smiled. It wasn't a forced smile like always—it was genuinely warm. That night, after Rikuto fell asleep, Shiori gazed at the night sky visible through the window. Stars were visible. The Shiomi sky, with its sparse streetlights in this rural area, showed the stars clearly. Tsubasa's words echoed in her mind again and again. "Please don't push yourself too hard." It was probably something anyone would say—ordinary concern. But those words— Why did they shake her heart so deeply? (Being worried about by someone...) It was warm. Just a little sweet. But at the same time, terrifying. That's why Shiori had always avoided relying on others. It was easier to carry everything alone. But when she heard those words— Something began to change slowly. (What will I talk about the next time I see him?) Thinking such things, Shiori drifted to sleep. A small flame was kindling in the depths of her heart. She didn't yet understand what it was.