The next morning, I woke up later than I'd planned. Maybe it was the air—something about being back on Earth again, familiar in a way I hadn't realized I missed, made it a little too easy to relax.
I only snapped out of it when a soft knock brushed against the door.
"Um… come in," I called, pushing myself up and leaning against the headboard.
The door opened, and just like that, the room filled with the rich, comforting scent of home-cooked Japanese food. Sakura stepped in with a tray balanced carefully in her hands, setting it down on a small stool beside the bed.
"Good morning…" she said, her voice warm in that effortless, almost motherly way.
"Ah—sorry," I replied, rubbing the back of my neck out of habit. "I didn't mean to sleep in. I should've gotten up earlier to help. You really didn't have to go through all this trouble for me."
She let out a soft chuckle. "You looked exhausted, young man. I wasn't about to wake you just to cook."
