The evening was settling comfortably around us, the soft hum of city life seeping faintly through the walls of Yoru's modest apartment. The yellow glow of the single bulb hanging above cast warm, diffused light across the small space. The scent of tea lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the wooden floor.
We were all gathered around the low wooden table in the center of the room, sitting on neatly folded cushions. The table, though small, felt like the focal point of the cozy space, where conversations of warmth and tension alike played out.
Aiko and I sat side by side on one side of the table, crossed legged. Yoru sat directly across from us, his posture relaxed yet tinged with a sense of unease. On his lap, Aira sat snugly, her small frame leaning fully into his chest.
