Moving out is madness and when it finally comes to an end, one hopes to never ever do it again. Then comes moving in and one starts to forget the leaking roof and the noisy neighbours the old house had.
Clothing spread around the room. Heaps and heaps of manga and books and DVDs. Open boxes. Closed boxes - why do you need dishes, anyway? One lonely plant that survived the trip. Pictures in a wide disarray.
Sumire smiles and then sits down on the floor. It's cold and she's barefoot. Beyond the window, energy flows and people scream in a weird language. Inside, Sumire waits.
It's not that bad, waiting. It's not putting things off, like before. It's the freedom of being where you need to be.
Momo - Takeshi - gets home late. He's tired and maybe this is how he felt when she used to come home late, tired and weary.
'Welcome,' she says with a mouth full of smile.
'You didn't unpack.'
He sits down on a pile of clothes - Sumire thinks it's her underwear. His position is strange and Sumire can't understand how he feels comfortable in it.
'I made dinner, though.'
He has told her to take him seriously. It gets hard when he hugs a pillow version of himself and waits for dinner sitting on a pile of underwear.
'But we don't have a table.'
He laughs and rummages through the cardboard boxes until he finds an old tablecloth. He cleans up a little bit and sets the tablecloth on the floor.
'Here! Let's have a picnic!'
Sumire quickly takes out all the food from the refrigerator and they eat.
Takeshi shows her a wrapped box.
'I brought you chocolate.'
She rolls her eyes.
'You're just like a cat that brings its owner dead animals.'
'The difference is that you actually like chocolate.'
'It's for dessert, though.'
'And you need to eat! A lot!'
'I'm just pregnant, not starving.'
'Don't work too hard, okay? Let me do the hard work this time.'
She gets closer to him and lays her head on his shoulder.
'I won't. It's a promise.'
She knows he doesn't quite believe her, but it's alright.