The moment I closed the front door, the tension finally left my shoulders.

　The house, empty of anyone else, was deathly quiet. 　That silence was a small mercy today.

　When I dropped my bag on the floor, it made a sickening, squelching sound. 　The bottom was wet, and even the handle felt sticky.

　Barely stopping to take off my shoes, I headed for the bathroom. 　In the mirror, my face was caked with dried mud.

"...Gross."

　I turned the tap, wet a towel, and rubbed my face. 　Every time I scrubbed my cheek hard, a stinging pain spread.

　Black footprints were on the cuffs of my uniform. 　A stain, like spilled juice, spread across my chest.

　I scrubbed with all my might. 　I just watched in silence as the dirt slowly faded.

　Only while doing this could I avoid thinking about anything.

　—Ding-dong.

　Suddenly, the intercom rang.

　Who could it be at this hour? 　I wasn't expecting any deliveries.

　I walked to the entrance and opened the door just a crack. 　A delivery man stood there, holding a cardboard box.

"Delivery for you!"

"Thank... you." I feel suspicious of a delivery I don't remember ordering. However, my name is written on it.

"Uh, yes. It's from your family."

　The moment I looked at the sender column on the slip, I couldn't believe my eyes.

　—My father's name was there.

　We hadn't been in contact for years.

　The small box was strangely light, 　But for some reason, I felt a faint warmth in my palm.