It was a quiet morning, and the rain had finally stopped.
Satoru Kojima sat on a bench tucked beneath the awning behind Minato Base, armored gloves folded in his lap, new helmet set gently beside him. His bike leaned against the wall nearby, water still dripping from its frame. He hadn't gone home yet. He wasn't in a rush to.
His body ached. His eyelids were heavy. But it wasn't the pain or the lack of sleep that made him still—it was something else. Something… hollow.
He heard soft footsteps. Slow, uncertain.
He looked up.
Miyako stood just a few feet away, holding a small bento wrapped in light blue cloth. Her school bag hung from her shoulder, and her bangs were slightly damp from the walk.
"Hey," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes. "I… um. I made this."
She stepped forward, hesitated, then extended the box with both hands.
"I thought maybe… you hadn't eaten yet. And you… kind of forget to, sometimes, I think."
Satoru blinked, startled.
"For me?"
Miyako gave a small nod. Her hands were trembling slightly, but she didn't pull them back. "I-it's just simple stuff. Nothing fancy. Sorry if it's weird."
He took the box gently. The cloth was soft and clean, patterned with small camellia flowers. There was a note tied into the knot: For energy.
Satoru smiled, softly.
"Thank you."
Miyako's cheeks flushed, and she looked away quickly, brushing her fingers through her bangs. "You don't… have to eat it right now. Or say anything. I just… wanted to give it to you. That's all."
He unwrapped it anyway.
Inside, the rice was shaped into neat little triangles, with sesame seeds and a few hand-cut vegetables tucked around the sides. There was a rolled omelet, slightly uneven, and a piece of chicken that looked carefully glazed.
And under the lid, a folded slip of paper with soft handwriting:
> "Please stay safe. I'll be cheering for you."
Satoru stared at the note for a long moment.
Then he smiled again—warmer this time. Something in his chest loosened.
"It looks really good," he said. "Honestly."
Miyako glanced at him. Her voice was small. "You're… not just saying that?"
"I wouldn't lie about something this important."
She looked down, visibly relieved, and gave a shy laugh. "I was so nervous I almost dropped it."
They sat quietly for a while. The breeze carried the scent of flowers from the nearby garden bed. For once, neither of them rushed to fill the silence. It just settled there—comfortable, gentle.
Miyako stood eventually, brushing off her skirt. "I should go. But… I'm glad I caught you."
She took a few steps, then turned back.
"…You look different in the new armor," she said, eyes flicking toward his helmet. "It… suits you."
Satoru tilted his head. "Really?"
She nodded, then smiled—just a little. "It makes you look like someone who never gives up."
He didn't know what to say to that.
By the time he thought of a reply, she was already walking away.