The playground was wrapped in the soft glow of the afternoon sun, the shadows of swaying trees painting streaks over the benches and grassy patches. The breeze was mild, gentle—like a whisper from a storybook. Laughter echoed faintly from a distant corner of the schoolyard, but in this little pocket of peace, Mizuki and Natsumi sat together on a worn wooden bench beneath a cherry tree.
Natsumi, legs swinging idly, had her hands tucked behind her back and a dreamy smile plastered across her lips.
"They're so small, Mizuki. I swear, I could stare at them all day," she gushed, her voice soft and sparkling. "Yohan makes these little grunting noises when he's sleeping, like a bear cub. And Yumi—oh my god—she squeaks. Like a real, actual squeak."
Mizuki giggled, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "You told me about Yumi's squeaking last time, and I still don't believe you. You're going to have to let me hear it next time I visit."
