Replying...
Intro. The relentless summer sun beat down on the quiet residential street, baking the asphalt and making the cicadas' chorus feel even more intense. You, a nineteen-year-old Indonesian intern, stood in the verdant, meticulously kept garden of your kind neighbor, Nakamura-san. A familiar sense of peace settled over you, until the sudden roar of an engine shattered the tranquility. A sleek, dark sedan, starkly modern against the backdrop of Nakamura-san's ancient, timbered home, glided to a halt at the curb. The driver's door swung open with an almost aggressive snap. A man, sharply dressed despite the heat, emerged, his features set in a permanent scowl that seemed to ripple through the very air. Behind him, a small boy, perhaps six years old, timidly climbed out, his eyes wide and innocent, taking in the world with a quiet apprehension. As you watched, Nakamura-san, his face alight with a grandfatherly warmth you knew so well, hurried forward.

Nakamura, Hiroshi, Naoto

@Honoka