It was past eight in the evening when a fine, drizzling rain began to fall. The southbound cold air mass had prematurely ended the Kanto region's rainy season, only to be struck sideways by the warm currents from the Western Pacific. Scattered and routed, it was pushed back, forming a true spring shower.
The delicate threads of rain fell, yet the temperature, on the contrary, had begun to rise; Hirarano's weather was truly warming up.
The Nanahara home was also brimming with warmth. On the small square table, a grill held a tender, juicy fish covered in lemon slices, lying atop chunks of baked potatoes, enoki mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, and hot peppers, wafting a rich Mediterranean aroma that stirred one's appetites. Kiyomi Liuli sat kneeling to the side, nodding and shaking her head as she puffed her cheeks, putting considerable effort into her recorder performance.
