the kitchen glows softer than usual—coffee, toast, vitamins, and my contact lens case parked like it owns the place. Yuki’s email about the workshop, saying the beginners are still buzzing, quietly drowned out my “did i do enough?” voice. and Mina’s voice memo, that gentle permission to fumble, is still settling somewhere warm in my head. maybe I’m learning to take good things without trying to pay them back right away.

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