The moment we stepped off the asphalt and onto the smooth stone path leading to my house, the air changed. It wasn't the antiseptic cold of the hospital; it was the scent of home. A clean, slightly sun-warmed blend of linen, garden soil, and the strong, welcoming aroma of my mother's spices.
I didn't stop at the front door. I slid it open, leading Jun past the genkan and toward the familiar noise of evening preparations.
My mother, Mrs. Hanamura, was singing softly in the kitchen, her back to us as she stirred something on the stove. My father, Mr. Hanamura, was seated at the dining table, his reading glasses perched on his nose, completely engrossed in his evening magazine.
They noticed the silence first—the abrupt lack of my footsteps—and both turned almost simultaneously.
My mother dropped her kitchen towel. "Jun-kun!" she cried, rushing forward and wrapping him in a surprisingly tight hug, which he returned awkwardly, still feeling like a stranger in his own skin.
My father took a deep, shaky breath, setting his magazine aside. "Welcome home, Jun. Truly. It's been too quiet around here."
I felt the last of the "Silent Princess" armor flake away. This was it. The impossible, the desperate certainty of the last two years was standing right here, being embraced by my mother.
My mother pulled back, her eyes immediately falling on me. She gave me a tiny, knowing, maternal smirk. "Honestly, Yui. You could have saved me a trip. I was all ready to go pick you up with the car, but you insisted you needed to walk the whole way with him, like a high school bodyguard." She laughed, a tiny, teasing punch. "I know you've missed him, but don't you think he should rest?"
My face instantly heated up. It was true. I had insisted because I needed to feel the physical presence of him beside me, matching my stride.
"Mom, we weren't walking fast," I managed, my voice suddenly sounding defensive and thin. "And the fresh air is good for him."
Jun, of course, chose that moment to intervene. He gave me a sly, conspiratorial glance. "Don't blame your poor mother, Yui-chan. I insisted, too. I told her I missed her overbearing side."
My mother swatted his arm lightly. "You're still a brat, I see. Good. Now, come in. I'm making curry tonight, it will be ready in about thirty minutes. Your favorite kind." She didn't ask if he would stay for dinner. It was simply the schedule. He was back in the cycle.
"Curry!" Jun's face lit up, a genuine, unburdened smile that made the two-year gap irrelevant for a brief, glorious second. "Perfect timing. That's the first thing I've been craving. Thank you, Auntie."
My mother's eyes, however, then fell on the large duffel bag slung over Jun's shoulder. Her smile faltered slightly, replaced by confusion. "Oh? You have a large bag, Jun-kun. Are you planning on having another one of your infamous sleepovers tonight?" she asked.
Jun's smirk returned, wider and more deliberate this time. He glanced at me, his eyes full of playful mischief, and leaned in close to my mother.
"Eh, yes, kind of," he replied politely. "But not just tonight. Yui keeps insisting I stay with her. It seems she developed severe Emotional Withdrawal from my presence, so I can't let my fiancée get lonely at night, she might—"
He never finished the sentence.
I didn't think. I just reacted. My face went from flushed to burning, and my composure—the control I had fought the entire universe to maintain—snapped. With a burst of frantic energy, I grabbed a handful of his cheek and pulled him, stumbling, toward the stairs.
"Moooom, Daaaad, we're going upstairs!" I shouted, pulling him past the dining room and up the wooden steps, my grip tight on his cheek.
My father peered over the top of his magazine, laughing a deep, rumbling laugh. "Well," he commented casually to my mother, "I guess the two kids finally moved in together. Took them long enough."
My mother, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, called up the stairs after us, her voice dripping with mock-seriousness. "Just a reminder, you two! Be sure to marry properly before getting a kid, okay?"
"MOOOM!" I screamed, the most embarrassingly loud sound I had made in two years, the heat radiating off my cheeks.
Despite my torturous grip on his face, Jun managed to turn his head just enough to shout back, his voice muffled but full of laughter, "Don't worry! We will ask your permission firs—"
I clamped my hand over his mouth completely, dragging him the final three steps and slamming him bodily against the wall of the upper landing, desperate to end the public humiliation.