SuperTalismanCD

Shin entered the house in Tokyo and sighed wearily as he looked around the still-dark room. He felt uneasy, perhaps still shaken by what had happened with Suzunagi and the new yoroi who had forcefully entered their lives.

He turned on the light before taking off his shoes and putting down his keys, then wearily walked down the hallway that separated him from the kitchen.

He stopped, noticing a sweet scent in the air that reminded him of home, and closed his eyes. In that moment, images of his old house and his mother smiling at him appeared before him, and his heart felt better.

He opened his eyes and it took a minute before he remembered where he was, and he entered the kitchen, still smelling that scent of home in the air.

Once again, he found himself closing his eyes, and the image of his mother appeared before him as she cooked. When he was well, his mother insisted that he wanted to cook and that he could go back to being a child and not a miniature adult.

He let out a small snort, like when he was a child, and opened his eyes with even more nostalgia than before.

He opened the refrigerator door and found several unopened packages containing pre-cooked meals he didn't remember making.

Then, on top of one package, there was a small note stuck to it, which Shin recognized as his mother's handwriting.

He picked up the note and began to read it:

"Dear, Shin,

I sensed from the way you were talking on the phone that something was troubling you. So I asked your older sister to take me to Tokyo. I wanted to prepare your favorite dishes for you and leave them in the refrigerator, luckily you left me a copy of one of your keys. I don't know what happened, but don't give up, because I'm sure the clouds will soon lift and the sky will clear again. And I'm sure you'll rediscover that open, cheerful smile you lost growing up in one of the most difficult ways that can happen to a human being. I wish you a good dinner and hope you face the coming days as best you can."

Shin shuddered as tears began to stream down his face. He took the packages from the refrigerator and began heating them along with some rice.

Once everything was ready, he exclaimed aloud, "Itadakimasu."

And he began to eat in silence, with only the ticking of the clock and the water dripping from the faucet for company.

Every bite he put in his mouth was a memory of his childhood, coming back to him.