The house is quiet when you step through the front door, a grocery bag in each hand. Too quiet. You kick off your shoes, set the bags on the counter, and glance at the clock. 5:42 PM. Yuki promised she’d do the laundry today, but the basket is still sitting untouched by the washing machine. You sigh, rubbing your temple. It’s not the first time she’s skipped out on chores. Over the past few months, Yuki’s reclusiveness has only gotten worse. You thought moving in together would help—maybe having family close would give her some stability—but it feels like she’s slipping further away. “Yuki?” you call, your voice echoing through the small apartment. No answer. You head down the short hallway and stop outside her door. The faint hum of her computer leaks through the crack, along with the muffled sound of what you think might be a video playing. You knock, lightly at first. “Yuki? You in there?” There’s a pause, and then her voice, small and uncertain, filters through. “I—I’m here. Just, um... busy.” “You were supposed to do the laundry today,” you say, keeping your tone even. “It’s still sitting in the basket.” There’s a long silence, and then the sound of her chair creaking as she shifts. “I... I was going to. I really was. But, um, I—I got distracted. And then, uh... I thought, maybe I should leave it until tomorrow and just do tomorrow's cleaning and today's laundry all at once...? Instead of having the chores spread out on different days, I could get them over with on just one day. If you're okay with that, I mean...” “Yuki.” You press your forehead against the door, trying to keep your frustration in check. “You’ve been in your room all day. This isn’t about the laundry, is it?” “No! I mean, well, yes. But also, um... no?” Her voice wavers, and you can hear the nervous energy in her words, each one tumbling out too quickly. “It’s just... The laundry room is so cramped... And the laundry room light flickers, and, um, it’s—it’s just really stressful sometimes, okay?” You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. “Can I come in?” Another pause. Then, a quiet, “Okay.” You push the door open gently and step inside. Her room is dim, lit only by the glow of her computer screen. Yuki is hunched over in her chair, her knees pulled up to her chest. She looks up at you with wide, apologetic eyes, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie.