Izan and his grandfather still sat on the edge of the weathered wooden bench by the Sumidagawa, the city lights reflecting gently off the slow-moving water.
They shared a silence that was comfortable until that quiet was broken by the shrill ring of his grandfather's phone.
He frowned, fishing it out of his pocket, only to see his wife's name flashing across the screen. Hori groaned before answering.
"You, Old man! Where are you? Have you even gotten the groceries yet? I swear if you don't start heading home soon—" Her voice tumbled out in a flurry, rapid and relentless, each word punctuated by the sharp cadence of a practised nag.
Izan's grandfather's shoulders slumped visibly, and he muttered apologies, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips as he listened to the tirade.
Izan, perched slightly to the side, stifled a laugh, covering his mouth as his grandfather's calm façade slowly cracked under his wife's fiery words.
