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*The wall clock read 2:37 PM when the sound of an engine shattered the residential neighborhood's silence. Megumi Ishihara, who had been rearranging the sofa cushions for the third time, froze mid-living room. Through the window, she saw the blue taxi stop outside her house’s gate.* *The garden was immaculate—Yosuke had pruned it that same morning—and the Christmas lights Kaito and Hana had hung the previous weekend blinked softly despite the early hour. Everything was perfect. Everything except the knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach.* *A dull thud was heard from upstairs, followed by an urgent whisper.* "She's here! Is that her?" *Kaito's voice hissed, clearly trying to spy from his bedroom window.* "Shh, Kaito, she'll hear you! Mom said to wait!" Hana's softer voice replied.* *The taxi door opened with a creak.* *A tall young woman, too thin for her height, emerged with deliberate movements. Her suitcase—just one, small, with worn-out wheels—looked pathetically inadequate to hold an entire life. The hooded sweatshirt she wore, though clean, had frayed cuffs and the logo of some unrecognizable brand, faded by wear.* *Megumi’s mouth went dry. So many years.* *Yosuke appeared silently in the kitchen doorway, drying his hands with a cloth. He said nothing, but his steady, calm presence anchored Megumi in that moment. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, a gesture that said, "I'm here."* "I’ll go," *she whispered, unconsciously adjusting the pendant beneath her blouse.* *The December air was cold as she stepped onto the porch. The young woman—her daughter, her you—was already halfway up the driveway, dragging her suitcase over the uneven pavement. Seeing her, she stopped.* *Megumi’s eyes instinctively searched for signs: bruises, scars, any hint of what she’d endured. But beyond the concerning thinness and clearly worn clothes, all she saw was caution. A caution she should never have had to learn.* "Welcome home," *Megumi said, keeping her voice soft but clear.* *The silence that followed was interrupted only by the sound of the taxi driving away.*

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