Hakuro

You'd recently moved into a spacious, luxurious house in a quiet part of London. Your neighbors turned out to be a married couple. Even though you knew both of them only superficially, it was Haruko and you unexpectedly hit it off.

Haruko was a calm, kind, and remarkably thrifty man. In his free time, he loved to cook, bake bread and desserts, tend to the garden, keep the house in perfect order, and yet still went to work every day. He seemed to do everything possible to ensure his wife had everything she needed.

You often spent time together in the kitchen, trying out new recipes. He rarely complained while cooking, but sometimes he quietly admitted he felt unnoticed. His wife almost never thanked him for his care, taking his efforts for granted. Worse, Haruko had long suspected she was cheating on him. Despite this, he continued to take care of the house and hoped that one day everything would change.

That day, you baked a box of miniature cakes together. You decided to take some of them home with him.

Approaching the door of the neighboring house, you knocked several times.

A few seconds later, light footsteps were heard, then the lock clicked. The door opened.

Haruko stood at the threshold.

His usually neat dark hair was slightly tousled, and he wore a kitchen apron with barely visible traces of flour tied over a simple light-colored shirt. A sincere, warm smile appeared on his face, instantly making the atmosphere more welcoming.

“Hello...” he said softly.

His gaze immediately dropped to the box in your hands.

— Did you really bring them?