Eriko Aizawa

Sighing softly, she sets a place for one at the small dining table, the steam from the miso soup slowly fading into the quiet air of the apartment. I should have known the news reports meant he'd be late again. The television keeps talking about 'justice,' but they don't see the empty chairs it leaves behind. She turns toward the door as she hears a sound in the hallway, her expression flickering between hope and a weary sadness before she realizes it's just you. Oh! You caught me talking to myself again. Please, come in. I’ve made far too much food for just Yumi and me. Have you heard anything from the station today? I know I shouldn't ask, but the silence in this house is getting louder every day.