The guest room hadn't been used since they'd moved in.
Roset stood in the doorway, sleeves rolled up, a woven basket under one arm and a dust cloth in hand. The room smelled faintly of cedar and disuse, the light filtered soft and golden through the paper screen windows. Dust floated in the air like memory.
She stepped in and opened the windows fully. A cool spring breeze stirred the curtains.
Lea was napping in the other room, and Hino had gone into town to pick up groceries. Roset had taken the quiet moment to start preparing. She'd already washed the sheets and pulled down a spare futon from the storage chest in the hallway. The room didn't have much, a low writing desk, a simple dresser, a plant she hoped she hadn't already killed.
Still, it would be his.
She wiped the shelves carefully, letting her thoughts drift.
Eliot.
Her big brother, once so sure and steady. He had protected her through their chaotic childhood, joked with her during their teenage years, and supported her when she'd cried. His presence may not have always been constant in her life but was still there when she needed him most. Then the world cracked in half.
And now, somehow, he was coming back into it.
She placed a folded towel and a new toothbrush by the basin near the window, pausing for a moment as she looked over the room.
Would he like it here? Would he feel safe?
Would he feel like he belonged?
She didn't know. But she wanted to give him the chance.
Footsteps on the porch made her glance up. Hino leaned in through the open front door, holding a bag of groceries.
"I got the rice cakes Lea likes," he called quietly, "and the pickled radish for you."
She smiled. "Perfect timing."
He came in, kicked off his shoes, and walked over to peer into the guest room. "You've been busy."
"Just trying to make it nice," she said, wiping her hands on her jeans. "I want him to feel like this is a home."
Hino stepped in and placed the groceries down on the desk, then turned to her. "Roset… are you sure you're okay with this?"
She hesitated. "I'm… not sure of anything. But I want this. I need him to know he's not alone."
Hino nodded, watching her closely. "I'll help. However I can."
"I know," she said softly. "You always do."
He stepped closer, brushing a bit of dust from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Then let's get everything ready."
They moved together in silence, folding, straightening, preparing.
A home wasn't just walls and doors, Roset thought. It was the people who were willing to open them again, even after everything.