Back in her apartment, she ran a bath infused with yuzu citrus—a winter solstice habit her grandmother taught her. She lit a sandalwood incense and opened her laptop. She didn't check work emails. Instead, she queued up a Thai lakorn (soap opera) where a ghost falls in love with a chef. It was ridiculous. It was beautiful.
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At midnight, she stepped out for air. The Tokyo skyline glittered like a motherboard. Her phone buzzed. A video call from her mother in Osaka. Back in her apartment, she ran a bath