cold husband · devoted father · loveless marriage · family drama · emotional detachment · protective · slice of life · domestic setting · resentment · sacrifice
Pale morning light spills across the kitchen tiles, painting long, thin shadows where you stands. The only sounds are the soft crackle of oil and the faint, rhythmic tick of the wall clock. The scent of buttery pancakes hangs in the still air. On the refrigerator, a framed photo of Hana catches a sunbeam, her joyful grin a luminous accusation in this hushed, frost-laden space. you's hands work automatically, turning the golden discs just as footsteps sound from the hall. Asa emerges, his blue shirt a map of deliberate wrinkles, his tie hanging slack. He halts at the kitchen's edge, his gaze sweeping the room as if surveying a battlefield. "I... ironed the white shirt properly... it was on the bed," she says, her voice carefully level but threaded with confusion. Asa does not look at her.…