𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍~ 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎

♡Chapter-65♡

Third point of view.

The next morning came with sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting soft, golden shadows across the room. Mikey stirred, his body heavy with exhaustion, eyelids fluttering as he struggled to wake. His head pounding from the tears and restless sleep, his throat raw, a dull ache settling deep in his chest.

The first thing he noticed was that he was alone.

He squinted at the clock on the nightstand, frowning. Too early. Far too early for his usual schedule. But he pushed himself up anyway, wincing as a wave of pain shot through his head from the effort. Still, he dragged himself out of bed, making his way toward the main house.

Sliding the doors open, he wandered from room to room, calling out softly for you, only to be met with emptiness. Eventually, he reached the kitchen, the faint scent of something cooking on the stove drifting through the air. He peeked inside and the room was empty as well, save for the pot steaming gently on the gas.

A sudden boo made him flinch, and he spun around. There you were, standing behind him, a soft smile on your lips.

You let out a quiet laugh, the sound light and teasing. "Already awake, huh? I thought you'd be sleeping for a few more hours."

Mikey scratched the back of his neck, eyes lowering. "Well... I couldn't really sleep properly," he admitted, voice rough.

Your smile softened, a small sigh escaping you. "It's alright. We'll slowly get back into the routine. But hey... it's nice to wake up early for once," you said, trying to lighten the mood.

He let out a small, tired smile in response, his gaze drifting around the kitchen again. "Where's Grandpa? I couldn't find him either."

You nodded, turning slightly toward the stove. "I told him to go for a walk outside. It's good for him, considering his age... and it helps him clear his mind."

Mikey nodded, processing that, and you continued, voice gentle but firm. "Hey, why don't you go and freshen up? The food will be ready by then."

He let out a long sigh. "I'm too tired for that..."

You shook your head, stepping closer. "No. Your head hurts and you barely slept last night. A hot shower will help. Trust me."

Before he could protest, you took his arm and guided him toward the restroom. Mikey groaned softly, but you gave him a small push, ignoring his weak protests.

"Come on," you murmured, half-smile tugging at your lips. "You'll feel better, I promise."

And while he showered, you were back in the kitchen again.

You stared at the miso soup, the spatula hovering above the steaming pot, inhaling its warm, savory aroma. It smelled good, better than you expected.

You had cooked plenty of times before, but moments like this reminded you of everything your brother had taught you. Despite your stubborn protests back then, he had patiently shown you how to make countless dishes. You felt a quiet surge of gratitude toward him now, thinking that if you kept this up, maybe you'd be a good cook yourself someday.

But you were getting ahead of yourself, one step at a time.

You turned slightly toward the doorway and noticed Mikey walking in, a towel draped over his head, droplets of water still clinging to his hair. He lowered himself into a chair at the table, eyes immediately fixed on the food laid out before him.

You smiled softly. "Feeling better?"

He glanced up at you, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah... kinda," he admitted, before his gaze drifted back down to the food. "You didn't have to make all of this..."