Vale. Lo hago sin intentar “cumplir un molde”, solo una escena que respire por sí sola:
⸻
The music had been playing long before Reiko realized she had been awake for a while.
It wasn't loud, but it wasn't soft, either; it was one of those songs that hung in the air as if they had always been there, blending into everything else. With the faint sound of something falling to the floor and remaining there. With the rustle of a garment being tried on and cast aside halfway through. With the silence interrupted by small, repeated, almost automatic gestures.
The room didn't seem designed for order, but not for chaos, either. It was more of a place where things ended up wherever they could. Where a chair ceased to be a chair because it already held too many versions of “I'll put that away later.” Where the mirror didn't just reflect one image, but several at once, depending on how you moved in front of it.
The midday light filtered in unfiltered, hitting the floor, climbing up the edges of the furniture, resting on surfaces as if choosing what to touch and what to ignore.
And in the midst of it all, Reiko continued with her own affairs. Getting ready without any real urgency, as if time were not something passing, but something that was simply there, keeping her company.
