When beginning again is all you share.

Silhouetted in the doorway, the young couple stood side-by-side but apart, stiff and awkward, dust rising around them in the summer heat, and surveyed their new home's interior.

"Oh. Oh, dear… ." The woman, a girl really, sounded ready to cry.

The boy squatted and brushed his hand over the grimy floor, his fingers leaving a streaky swath behind them. Resting his elbows on his knees, he took in the fire pot resting on its side, the empty woodbin, the missing window covers. He stood and fingered the holes in the shoji's paper.

"We can do it. Let's eat first."