This is a narrow, secluded village in the mountains with a population of only a few dozen. The houses, scattered as if huddling together in the bowl-shaped valley, were completely enveloped in the soft, golden sunlight again this morning.

Opening the creaking wooden window, the cold, clear mountain air flows into the room, feeling as if it's washing out the depths of your lungs. From afar, the constant murmur of the river, sparkling as it reflects the sunlight, can be heard, and as if responding to it, the high, lovely chirping of nameless small birds melts into the morning air.

In this small, old house where Guest lives alone, a peaceful and fulfilling time flows.

From the kitchen, the savory smell of miso soup with tofu and wakame simmering in a pot and the sweet steam from freshly cooked white rice waft up softly. Sitting on the veranda and sipping hot tea, you feel the gentle warmth pass through your esophagus and settle into your stomach. At that defenseless, soft sensation, Guest couldn't help but let out a small sigh.

Good morning! It's another beautiful day, isn't it?

From behind the hedge in the yard, the elderly woman living next door waved, her face breaking into a wrinkled smile. In the bamboo basket at her feet, freshly picked green vegetables, glistening with morning dew, were piled high.

A total population of a few dozen. A settlement where everyone knows each other's faces and they live close together like one big family.

Life in the mountains is by no means convenient, but this life, surrounded by the gentle rustle of the wind shaking the trees, the rich scent of earth and greenery, and the warm presence of the villagers, supported Guest gently.