The morning at Daily Mart Yonan opened with its usual silence. Ten o'clock. The morning prep work was nearly finished, and there was a lull in customer traffic. Saya was organizing the shelves in front of the register. Aligning product directions. Checking expiration dates. In the repetition of these motions, her hands moved automatically. "Shio, do you have a moment?" Kenta Hatano, the assistant manager, emerged from the back room. Thirty-eight years old. Black hair cut short. Deep brown eyes. He had to be at least one hundred seventy-eight centimeters tall. Even in the convenience store uniform, his straight posture and broad shoulders made it obvious at a glance that he had military experience. On his left arm, the faint traces of an old burn scar remained barely visible. No matter how many times Saya saw it, it made her think: *This person carries some complicated past.* "Yes." Saya stopped her shelf work and turned toward Kenta. A polite response. She kept her wariness hidden. Kenta approached her while speaking with a calm expression. There was no smile on his face. Only seriousness and sincerity seeped through. "Your son Ren is participating in next month's sports day, right? I saw it in the school newsletter." How did he know that? Saya was startled for a moment. But the reason came to her quickly. Ren had brought home the school newsletter, and Saya had left it visible on the break room table when she was at work. Kenta must have seen it there. "Yes, that's right." Saya replied in a low voice. Some emotion should have been embedded in those words, but she couldn't quite express it well. A child's sports day was supposed to be an event a parent looked forward to with joy. Yet deep down, it felt like just another task to her. "If there's anything I can help with on the day, please don't hesitate to ask. I can adjust the schedule however you need." Kenta's words were kind. That kindness was genuine. Saya sensed it. This person probably extended a hand unconsciously whenever he saw someone in trouble. *(But...)* A small discomfort stirred in the depths of her heart. "Thank you so much. That really helps." Saya created a smile. That smile was textbook-perfect—a "grateful expression" straight from the manual. The kind of face the other person would want to see. The kind of reaction they would expect. Kenta nodded. "Not at all. Your child is important, after all." With that single phrase, Saya understood. Kenta held the value that *one should do what one is able to do for others.* That's why, whenever Saya seemed to be struggling, he would reach out. He meant no harm. It was pure consideration, if anything. Yet that consideration felt heavy to Saya. Lunch break. Saya sat on a folding chair in the corner of the back room. A convenience store bento box pulled from her bag. Fried chicken and white rice. Three hundred ninety-nine yen. A meal that ignored nutritional balance—cheap, that was all. The moment she was about to sip her tea, Kenta came in. Two canned coffees in his hands. "Here, have this. You like the sweet kind, right?" He offered her a canned coffee. Saya hesitated for a moment. *(When did I ever say that?)* She didn't let that question show on her face. She took the can. "Thank you." The label read "Café au Lait—Sweet." In fact, Saya did like sweet coffee. But she couldn't remember when she'd told Kenta that. Kenta sat across from her and opened his own bento. It was packed with care. Stir-fried broccoli and beef. Brown rice. Cherry tomatoes. The colors were perfectly balanced. "I cook for myself every day, you know." Kenta said this with a hint of pride. Of course, there was no intention to boast. Rather, it was meant as information—*this is another way to do things.* But the result was that it silently pressured Saya: *You're not doing this.* "Is that so?" Saya replied. She bit into the fried chicken. It was cold. She should have microwaved it. But there was no microwave in the back room. "If you make things in advance, it's easier. I'll teach you some recipes next time." *Again.* Saya murmured to herself. Kenta was speaking with good intentions. A suggestion: *If you do it this way, things will be easier.* But that suggestion was being translated in Saya's mind into a different message: *You should be trying harder.* "I see. Thank you." Saya gave a short reply. She didn't want to expand the conversation. She wanted to escape this atmosphere. That desire was reflected in her voice. Perhaps Kenta noticed it. But he pretended not to notice and pushed further. "Shio, you seem good at cooking. Is Ren eating properly?" That question struck her heart with the precision of a blade. "Yes, well..." Saya answered vaguely. Ren ate the bento his mother made every day. It was something Saya prepared each morning within her limited budget, thinking carefully about nutritional balance. But whether it was "enough" or "insufficient," Saya couldn't judge. Ren had never once said it was "delicious." Just "well, it's normal" at best. *(I don't need to be a perfect parent.)* She'd thought that before. But Kenta's words shook that conviction. Two o'clock in the afternoon. The afternoon shift began. The store was unexpectedly crowded. Saturday afternoon. The time when housewives and students stopped by. Saya was working the register alone. But customers didn't stop coming. They arrived one after another, carrying merchandise. Saya processed transactions mechanically. Bagged items. Next customer. The cycle repeated. Eventually, a second register became necessary. Kenta came to help. Beside Saya, Kenta began ringing up purchases. His movements were efficient, without waste. The precise gestures of someone with military experience. His customer service was polite too, and everyone left satisfied. *(This person can do anything.)* That's what Saya thought. And at the same time, she felt acutely how imperfect she was. Every day, she made Ren's bento. Every day, she came to work. Every day, she managed the housework. But something was missing. Perfection was missing. Professional completeness was missing. The rush of customers subsided. A few minutes of quiet opened up. During that time, Saya and Kenta stood side by side. "Shio, you're really efficient. Impressive." Kenta said that from beside her. He was complimenting her. But that compliment sounded to Saya like blame: *Why can't you do more when you're capable of it?* "Thank you." Saya replied. At that moment, Kenta turned slightly toward her. "Um, Shio. If there's ever anything troubling you, please feel free to consult with me anytime. I'm good with physical labor and that sort of thing." The moment she heard those words, something caught in Saya's heart. *(Affection.)* She realized it. Kenta wasn't just being kind as a coworker—he seemed to hold affection for Saya. The level of his kindness exceeded what a coworker would normally offer. Saya's mind reeled for a moment. She had to make sure that turmoil didn't show in her gestures. She took a deep breath. Invisibly. "...Thank you. But I'm fine." That reply was deliberately creating distance. A message: *I appreciate the kindness, but please don't take this any further.* Even after hearing that response, Kenta didn't lose his smile. "I see. But please don't hold back. Anytime." Those words were a kindness that felt like being cornered. Six o'clock in the evening. End of shift. Saya removed her uniform and changed into her own clothes. She left the store and got on her bicycle. As she pedaled, Saya was thinking. *(What is that person thinking?)* Kenta's kindness was genuine. There was no doubt about that. But behind that kindness, something else seemed to be hidden. She crossed the Honami River bridge. Cherry blossoms from spring still floated on the water's surface. The season was moving forward, yet it felt as if only her own life was spinning in the same place. *(I need to keep my distance before this becomes complicated.)* She made that decision. But at the same time, another feeling arose. The fact that Kenta was looking at her. Sensing her exhaustion. Trying to perceive her shortcomings. Saya hadn't experienced another person's gaze like that in a long time. *(But that is...)* She cut off that thought midway. It was dangerous. She couldn't afford to lean on it. The bicycle arrived in front of Maison Yonan. On the first floor, the landlord Setsuko Ando was tending to the flower beds. "Oh, Saya. You must be tired." "Good evening. Thank you." She climbed the stairs and entered her room on the second floor. Ren hadn't come home yet. He had supplementary tutoring today. He'd probably arrive around four-thirty. Saya began preparing dinner. She took tofu from the refrigerator. There was leftover pork soup from yesterday. She'd reheat it. She started cooking rice. During all this, Kenta's words repeated over and over in her mind. *"If there's anything troubling you..."* *"Physical labor..."* *"Please don't hold back..."* She was trying to read the hidden meaning in those words. But putting that meaning into language frightened her. *(If that person really does hold affection for me...)* She didn't want to think beyond that point. She couldn't think beyond it. Because Saya was a single mother earning sixteen thousand yen a month, and she had devoted everything to Ren's future. The thought of having a relationship with someone else felt like a betrayal of him. She believed that being a mother was her only role. She couldn't want anything more than that. She'd convinced herself of this. But Kenta's gaze was looking at Saya from outside that framework—seeing her as a single human being. And that was creating a small tremor in her heart. The front door opened. Ren came home. "I'm home." "Welcome back." The words between mother and child were exchanged. An ordinary scene. But in the background, Saya's heart was quietly wavering. While eating dinner, Ren talked about school. About the relay race. About his friends. Trivial daily matters. Saya listened to each one. But while listening, she was thinking of something else. What more could she do for this child? Wasn't she enough as his only parent? Could it be that Ren needed other human relationships so he wouldn't have to carry her struggles? *(No.)* She pushed that thought away. She couldn't afford to be weak. If she didn't stay strong, Ren would become anxious. Nine o'clock at night. Ren was asleep. Saya stood alone in the kitchen. Preparing tomorrow's bento. Washing today's clothes. Her hands moved as they always did. But her heart was elsewhere. *(I'll see him again tomorrow.)* Tomorrow she had a shift. Daily Mart Yonan. The place where Kenta was. Saya opened the window. Spring wind blew in from the direction of the Honami River. The scent of cherry blossoms still mixed with that wind. The season was definitely moving forward. Toward the season of fresh green leaves. But where was Saya's inner self heading? Even she couldn't see that destination.