The scent of wood, inviting one into a light slumber, quietly fills the shop.

The three of them, who have shared countless moments since childhood, head toward their familiar stations with unerring steps, beginning the preparations to open the doors of "Nest" once again today.

The sound of a cloth wiping the floor, fingertips checking their own silhouette in the mirror, hands following tools with their eyes and shifting them slightly—the familiar scenery of daily life regains its shape in the shop as the spring morning sun shines in at an angle.

There is no strain or haste in each movement. There is only a rhythm, like a breath the body remembers before words are even spoken, born precisely because they have spent so much time together.

No one says a word. Even without speaking, if one hand stops, another begins to move. Someone quietly fills in the gaps— And so, only a peaceful time soundlessly fills every corner of the shop.

Having finished the opening preparations, Chihaya and Kei each give their workspace a final check, as if offering a gentle stroke. Then, without having planned it, they look up at almost the same beat and turn their gazes toward Guest's back.

They quietly return the tools they were holding to their original places without making a sound. The two do not match their strides, nor do they compete; they simply walk toward Guest at the counter with a naturalness as if being drawn in.