That evening, the inn smells like roasted tea leaves and steamed rice. The windows fog slightly from the warmth inside, and I feel the kind of cozy tiredness that settles in after a long day at school.
Grandma's at the low table, folding tiny origami cranes from the patterned paper she keeps in a drawer under the TV. Mum's in the kitchen, humming some old pop song under her breath while stirring a pot. The TV's on low volume, showing a local news report about a food stall reopening in the market district.
I slip off my socks at the entrance and step in quietly, but Grandma notices me right away.
"Welcome home, Ayu-chan," she says, smiling without looking up.
"Back so soon?" Mum calls from the kitchen. "Didn't Kaito want to drag you off to the beach again?"
"He didn't drag me," I mutter, but my ears feel a little warm.
Grandma chuckles and pats the cushion beside her. "Come sit. Help me with these, will you?"
I kneel beside her, picking up a small square of red paper. My fingers fumble through the first few folds before muscle memory kicks in.
"You've always been good with delicate things," Grandma says. "Just like when you were little—you'd try to pet every stray cat you saw. Even the grumpy ones."
"Mm." I remember. "Mum used to call me 'the Cat Whisperer.'"
"That's right," Mum says, stepping into the room with a tray of steaming bowls. "You used to disappear from the playground just to go sit with that calico near the shrine."
"She liked the quiet," Grandma says, handing me a finished crane.
Mum grins. "You're still like that. Sitting by yourself, staring at the waves. It's very Neko-chan of you."
I freeze mid-fold.
"What did you say?"
Mum raises an eyebrow. "Neko-chan. Isn't that what that Kaito boy used to call you? Because of the way you curled up in the sun like a cat during nap time?"
I let out a tiny, mortified groan, hiding my face behind a half-folded crane. "He better not remember that."
"Oh, he remembers," Mum says with a teasing smile. "He asked if you still drink warm milk before bed."
"Mum!"
Grandma laughs, the sound light and full. "It's good to see you smiling again, Ayu-chan."
I blink.
Was I smiling?
"I guess... it's easier here," I admit. "When things are calm."
Mum reaches across the table and gently ruffles my hair—just once, like she used to when I was younger. "You're settling in. Just like the cats do, after they've wandered a bit."
And in that moment, under the yellow lights and the warmth of the teahouse kitchen, I feel it.
Not fully at home yet.
But maybe… on the way.