Thursday morning unfolded gently inside the familiar train carriage.
The soft clatter of wheels hummed beneath the seats, golden light spilling through the windows. Yet beneath that calm rhythm, a quiet anticipation filled the air — the kind that tightens the chest and makes every second feel longer than it should.
Yukino sat by the window, hands folded in her lap, eyes fixed on the sliding doors. Honoka leaned against her, Panda-san perched neatly on her knees. Across from them, Momo and Ren wore identical looks of impatience.
"He'd better have a good reason for disappearing," Momo muttered.
Ren scoffed, though his tone softened. "Doesn't matter. Yukino won't hear a word against him."
Yukino blinked, flustered. "T-that's not true! I just…" She stopped, her voice too quick, too defensive. "I just want to make sure he's okay."
Momo smirked. "Sure. You just want to make sure his heart is okay, right?"
"M-Momo!" Yukino turned toward the window, cheeks burning.
Ren watched quietly, a faint, wistful smile on his lips. "Guess she already belongs to someone else."
Before anyone could respond, the soft chime of the next stop rang through the carriage.
The air shifted. Even Honoka sat up straight, clutching Panda-san.
Then — the doors slid open.
And there he was.
Ken stepped in. Neatly dressed, dark shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms. His hair slightly tousled, a faint bandage still peeking beneath his cuff. He looked stronger, steadier — and somehow even quieter than before.
His calm presence drew eyes without effort. Even passing commuters turned, sensing something different about the way he carried himself.
"Konichiwa," he greeted softly — his voice steady, low, familiar.
The single word made Yukino's heart skip.
He walked toward them, gaze even, and stopped before the sisters. "I'm sorry," he said, bowing his head slightly. "I made you worry again. I promise… I'll make it up to you."
Yukino's throat tightened. She wanted to be angry — to scold him, to cry — but all that came out was a trembling breath. "You… you can't just disappear like that," she said, voice breaking. "Do you know how scared Honoka and I were? You said you'd come back on Thursday — and you did — but that doesn't make it okay, Ken-san."
Her hands clenched over her skirt, fighting the flood of feeling she couldn't hide.
Ken looked at her quietly. "I know," he said. "I won't do it again."
Before Yukino could reply, Honoka slid from her seat and ran straight into his arms.
"Ken-nii-san!" she cried, hugging him tightly. "Panda-san and I missed you!"
Ken's expression softened instantly. He knelt, returning her hug with quiet care. "I missed you too, Honoka-chan."
As he said it, his eyes lifted — meeting Yukino's.The warmth in them said everything his words didn't.And in that moment, Yukino understood —he wasn't only speaking to Honoka.He was speaking to her too.
The Promise
Ken lifted Honoka gently and set her beside him, as if she were something precious. She snuggled close, Panda-san in her lap, eyes shining with the uncomplicated joy only children know.
Yukino hesitated, then sat beside them — close enough to feel the faint brush of his sleeve.
The train rolled forward, bathed in soft gold. No one spoke. Even Momo sat quietly, smiling at the sight before her.
Ken opened Honoka's small bento and, as always, began feeding her in calm, steady motions. No words, just patience — the quiet rhythm of care. Honoka chewed happily, her little legs swinging.
Yukino watched them, her chest tightening with something she couldn't name. He looked so natural like this — calm, gentle, as if he'd been part of their small world all along.
When the train began to slow for his stop, Ken gathered his bag. But before he could rise, Yukino turned suddenly toward him, her cheeks flushed.
"Ken-san!"
He froze, blinking at her.
"You didn't even explain," she said, voice trembling between anger and relief. "No service, no messages — not even one word to say you were okay. Do you know how—how worried we were?"
Ken blinked once, then again, caught off guard. For a moment, he looked almost helpless — like someone who didn't know how to stand in the middle of someone else's care.
From across the car, Momo muffled a laugh. "Yukino, you sound like his wife already."
"M-Momo!" Yukino's face turned crimson.
Ken looked between them, exhaling a small, amused sigh. "You're right, Yukino-san," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to worry you again. I'll explain everything soon, I promise."
Yukino folded her arms, looking away, her lips tightening — but the forgiveness was already there, unspoken.
As the train slowed to his stop, Ken adjusted his bag and turned slightly toward her. "I'll come back this evening," he said. "On this same train."
Yukino blinked. "E-evening?"
He smiled faintly. "Text me before you get on. I'll be there. Maybe we can grab a coffee after… and I'll tell you everything."
The train hissed to a stop. The doors opened.
Yukino nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "O-okay. I'll text you then."
Ken gave a small smile — rare, genuine, reaching his eyes. "Good."
He stepped out, and the doors closed behind him.
Yukino sat frozen, her heart pounding like wings in her chest.
Across from her, Momo leaned in with a grin. "Yuki, you sound like a girl in love right now."
"Sh-shut up, Momo…" Yukino whispered, cheeks blazing.
But her gaze drifted to the window — to the place where he'd stood moments before.
And deep inside, she knew.
This wasn't just worry anymore.It was something softer, deeper — and real.The kind of love that comes quietly,and changes everything without asking permission.