Chapter 101
I walked to the entrance and turned the "Open" sign to "Closed" with a simple yet deliberate motion.
After that, I locked the door until a firm click was heard, signaling that the shop was temporarily closed. That small sound felt like the closing note of today's ordinary matters, and at the same time, the opening of something far more important.
I gave Yaeko a brief signal to follow me.
We walked toward the inner part of the shop, passing neatly arranged shelves on both sides. The rows of goods stood still under the dim lighting, forming a narrow passageway that felt quieter than usual. At last, we stopped in front of two doors standing side by side.
One of them was marked "Toilet."
The other was marked "Anywhere Door."
I stopped right in front of the second door, then turned slightly toward Yaeko.
"State your destination clearly and precisely," I said, my tone now more serious than before.
Yaeko took a short breath. From the way Yaeko clasped her own fingers together, it was clear she was trying to calm the nervous pounding in her chest.
"Please! Take me to my house! More precisely, into my room!" Yaeko said in a firm voice.
Yaeko stated her destination clearly and specifically, without the slightest hesitation. There was a growing confidence in her voice, even though her eyes still held traces of tension in facing something beyond ordinary reason.
Yaeko's hand moved toward the doorknob, but paused for a moment.
For an instant, she seemed frozen, as though still trying to convince herself that everything happening was truly real, and not merely some strange dream born from exhaustion.
Then, after steadying herself, Yaeko opened the door.
I immediately followed behind her, stepping through the doorway without hesitation and entering the space beyond together with her.
In an instant, the scenery around us changed.
The air touching my skin felt different. It no longer carried the familiar atmosphere of the shop, filled with the scent of merchandise and wooden shelves, but instead a gentle warmth that felt far more familiar and comforting.
The temperature of the room was warmer, as if embracing us with the comfort that only a place truly called home could possess.
The distinct scent of a private room immediately greeted our senses—a soft mixture of aged wood, clean fabric, and the faint trace of everyday fragrance that was difficult to describe, yet brought a calming sense of comfort to the heart.
We were already inside Yaeko's room.
The room was simple, far from luxurious, but neatly arranged with great care. Nothing was placed carelessly; everything had its place, as though every corner of the room was maintained with the attentiveness of someone accustomed to living modestly yet orderly.
A fairly large bed stood directly facing the entrance.
The sheets covering it looked clean and neatly arranged, though the color of the fabric showed that they had been used for quite some time.
Not new, but well cared for, reflecting a simple way of life carried out with discipline.
To the right of the bed was a window with half-closed curtains.
Through the gaps in the curtain fabric, natural light entered softly, spreading warm rays across the wooden floor and part of the walls. That light made the room feel alive, giving it a peaceful atmosphere that was almost soothing to the soul.
Meanwhile, on the left side of the bed stood a wooden wardrobe.
Its surface looked slightly dull with age, marked by several faint scratches that showed years of use.
Even so, its structure remained sturdy, standing upright without flaw, like an old object that faithfully continued serving its purpose without complaint.
In the corner of the room, several small items were neatly arranged—a cloth basket, a small table with personal belongings, and folded clothes placed carefully in order.
All of it gave the impression that this room was not merely a place to rest, but a private space that served as the center of a mother's simple life.
The atmosphere in the room felt calm, almost silent, yet that silence was not empty.
There were traces of life within it—a simplicity born from long years of struggle, perseverance, and the habit of living each day without much luxury.
It was as though every corner of the room held unspoken stories about hard work, sacrifice, and affection that quietly filled this place every single day.
"Wow, this room really feels comfortable and well cared for," I said with a faint smile, letting my gaze wander carefully across every corner of the room.
My voice sounded sincere, without pretense, because that truly was the first impression I felt the moment I entered. Though simple and not very spacious, the room radiated a warmth that was difficult to describe in words.
The room itself was small, but arranged neatly in a way that made it feel alive. From the slightly opened window, the daylight entered softly, casting a thin golden glow upon the walls and floor, creating a peaceful atmosphere that soothed the heart.
On a small table near the corner of the room, several items were arranged neatly without seeming excessive. The bed was made with clean sheets free of messy wrinkles, while the air inside the room felt fresh, as though every corner had been maintained with consistent care.
The sense of comfort the room gave felt genuine—not because of luxury, but because there was diligence in every little detail.
"Really? This is just an old room..." Yaeko replied flatly. Her tone sounded ordinary, almost emotionless, as though she truly believed there was nothing special about the room worth praising.
Perhaps, to Yaeko, a simple room like this was merely part of everyday life—too familiar to be considered worthy of notice.
When someone has lived in the same place for too long, often the small warmth within it becomes something ordinary, its value nearly invisible.
"Of course, I mean it," I said again, still wearing the faint smile on my face.
I turned toward Yaeko, making it clear that my praise was not mere politeness. To me, a place cared for sincerely always held more value than a luxurious room that felt cold and empty. True warmth is not born from expensive things, but from the small care placed into it every day.
Yaeko looked at me for a moment. Her gaze appeared calm, yet there was a faint impression that she was weighing whether she should believe my words or not. Her face remained as expressionless as usual, making it hard to guess what she was thinking.
Several seconds passed in thin silence before Yaeko finally gave a slow nod, accepting my words without adding any comment.
After that, Yaeko turned around and opened the bedroom door.
The door moved slowly with a soft sound, revealing the outside area, slightly brighter from the light in the living room. That light slipped gently into the room, breaking the warm daytime atmosphere that had filled it until now.
Yaeko stepped out first with calm, measured movements, while I quickly followed behind, leaving behind the room that still lingered in my mind with its comforting impression.
As soon as we stepped outside, we arrived in their apartment's living room.
The room immediately gave a clear picture of Yaeko's family life—simple, compact, yet neatly arranged in a way that made anyone feel at ease. There were no expensive furnishings or striking decorations, yet everything there seemed to have its proper place.
A low table stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by simple chairs that had clearly been used for a long time but were still kept clean. On one side of the wall, a small shelf held several household items arranged neatly, without giving any sense of clutter or crampedness.
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