Ch.159Chapter 24. Flesh (4)

Mako couldn’t calm down easily.

It must be hard for her to believe that they were parting forever without even having a chance for a final conversation.

Come to think of it, Mako was the kind of sensitive girl who would cry even in front of a transferring student. The death of a close friend must have been incredibly difficult for her to accept.

Harumi’s sadness was visible too, but with Mako crying in front of her, she seemed unable to let herself cry freely.

Yuu knew that Harumi was quite an emotional girl.

Her usual expression was almost always a smiling one, but that didn’t mean she was incapable of tears. Once, they all went to the theater to watch a sad movie, and afterward, Harumi deliberately avoided going to see sad films together.

…When Mako and Harumi were crying, Yuu hadn’t cried.

Just like now.

Standing in the middle of the road with the crying Mako, Harumi and Yuu didn’t know what to do. They didn’t know how to handle this situation. If it had just been tears after watching a sad movie, Harumi would have made jokes to lighten the mood.

But you can’t say such things to someone grieving over a friend’s death.

“Hey, Mako, for now—”

Harumi started in a congested voice, then abruptly stopped mid-sentence.

Her gaze was fixed on something down the road.

Yuu, who had been standing a step away from Mako and Harumi watching them, turned his head to follow her gaze.

At the end of it was Kagami.

…Rationally thinking, it made sense. After all, Kagami was in the position of being Kotone’s mother. It was only natural that she would be the one to deliver the news of her child’s death.

Plus, right now, even Koko had disappeared somewhere. Whether the homeroom teacher had called for her or Kagami had come looking herself, it was a plausible scenario.

But to Yuu, her presence looked extremely awkward.

During the sports festival, when everyone else’s parents came, Kagami didn’t show up. It was the same for other occasions too. Whenever Kotone and Koko had problems at school, they always had to resolve them on their own.

Even knowing the backstory—

—and it was only then that Yuu realized the current situation wasn’t ideal either.

At least Yuu had already heard what happened, but Mako and Harumi hadn’t yet.

The last time these two had seen Kotone and Kagami together.

Quickly turning his head back, he saw both Harumi and Mako staring intently at Kagami approaching them.

Especially Mako, who had forgotten her tears and was staring blankly.

Her glasses were slightly askew. She had been wiping her tears with her sleeve just moments ago.

“…”

Kagami also spotted the three standing on the road and stopped in her tracks.

Mako and Harumi. Kagami had rarely met them. But she seemed to remember their faces.

It was a situation she couldn’t help but remember.

After silently looking at the three for a moment, Kagami’s gaze lingered briefly on Yuu before moving away.

Soon, Kagami began walking again with an indifferent expression, as if she had no interest in the three of them.

“Um, excuse me!”

And as Kagami was passing by the three, Mako called out to her somewhat urgently.

Kagami stopped walking.

Yuu became a little curious about this. Did Kagami stop because Mako, Kotone’s friend, called out to her? Or was she going to act again?

Seeing Kagami turn around, he thought it might be the former.

“…”

Kagami didn’t bother to respond verbally. Instead, she just stared at the three of them.

“Ah, I…”

Mako spoke haltingly. Her voice was very cracked.

After slightly moving her lips, Mako gave a small bow toward Kagami.

“I’m sorry for your loss…”

“…”

Those words were somewhat shocking to Yuu.

Because… Yuu, who had actually witnessed it firsthand, hadn’t even thought to say those words.

“…I’m sorry for your loss.”

Harumi followed with a similar greeting.

“…”

Was Kagami equally shocked?

Perhaps Kagami and Yuu were both unable to accept Kotone’s death. After all, Kagami had said she would bring Kotone back to life, and Yuu had casually agreed.

Even though Kagami had warned him.

Yuu’s heart began to race violently again, just as it had when he saw Mako and Harumi earlier.

Kagami’s eyes moved back and forth. Judging by her mumbling, she seemed to be searching for an appropriate response.

The cold death of her daughter, without even a funeral. No gathering of acquaintances, no exchange of condolences, not even a eulogy.

How were Mako and Harumi processing this fact?

Yuu now realized how much he had forgotten in the meantime.

How was Kagami herself processing this fact?

“…Such greetings…”

Kagami started to say something but then closed her mouth.

“…I understand this must be very difficult for you.”

But before Kagami could finish, Mako continued.

Yuu looked at Mako with a slightly astonished expression.

Mako had raised her head by now.

There wasn’t any outright hostility in her eyes. Mako was far from that kind of emotion.

But even through her glasses, her gaze was intense. Eyes that seemed determined to know something.

Moreover, interrupting someone in this situation meant that Mako was quite emotionally charged herself.

“But, but there’s one thing I’d like to ask.”

“…”

Did she take Kagami’s silence as consent?

No, that probably wasn’t it. Mako was always considerate and thought of others’ feelings first.

She was simply preventing the other person from escaping.

“How did Kotone… come to pass away?”

Kagami’s mouth opened slightly.

“Why didn’t you call the people around her? What about the funeral?”

Seemingly confident that Kagami wouldn’t just turn and leave, Mako stepped forward.

“Mako-chan.”

Surprised by Mako’s behavior, Harumi gently grabbed her arm.

Mako didn’t pay much attention to it.

Her eyes were fixed solely on Kagami.

“No matter how much you disliked Kotone, you didn’t need to go that far. At least you knew she had friends…”

Kagami stood rooted to the spot.

Tears that had stopped began to flow again from Mako’s eyes. The tears followed the traces that remained after being wiped with her sleeve and dripped down her chin.

“How… how did she have to leave like that? Was there nothing we could have done to help? We don’t know anything. I even brought bread from my grandmother’s house to give her today…”

“…Ah.”

Yuu couldn’t help but make that sound.

Come to think of it, Mako had given Kotone a gift after the last vacation ended too. Seeing Kotone happily receive the gift, Mako had smiled with satisfaction.

“And I still haven’t been forgiven for what happened then.”

What happened then?

Harumi blinked. For a moment, Yuu and Harumi made eye contact, but neither had any idea what she meant.

Had Mako ever done something to Kotone that required an apology?

With her hands clasped in front of her chest, Mako spoke to Kagami in a desperate voice.

“Maybe… maybe…”

Looking at Mako like that, Kagami silently watched her before slowly opening her mouth.

“…That’s not it.”

“…”

Neither Harumi nor Yuu knew what had happened between Mako and Kotone. But at least from the atmosphere, they could guess what Mako wanted to say.

“She didn’t commit suicide.”

Mako took a small breath.

Relief? No, it didn’t seem like such a simple emotion. The feelings they were experiencing were too complex to express in a single word. Not just Mako, but Harumi and Yuu as well.

“So you can rest assured about that.”

That tone seemed somewhat mocking.

A completely different tone from the polite speech she used with Yuu.

Kagami was acting now.

Not the persona she showed behind the scenes—not a particularly good mother, but at least not hostile to Kotone—but the one who didn’t see her child as a child.

“But…”

Kagami continued with some difficulty. Her frowning expression looked as if she didn’t understand why the words wouldn’t come out. This was only apparent to Yuu, who knew the backstory.

“…So what?”

After silently moving her lips several times, Kagami finally managed to throw out that one phrase.

Mako seemed quite shocked by those words.

“What do you mean ‘so what’?”

“So, if it wasn’t suicide.”

Kagami, who had been struggling to move her jaw, seemed to be finding her pace, speaking in a much more natural tone than before.

“What difference does it make?”

“Pardon?”

Mako asked in response to Kagami’s words.

“Even if she didn’t die because of someone, she’s still dead, isn’t she? Why do you need to know such things?”

“I… I and Kotone…”

Because we were close.

That was probably what Mako wanted to say.

But Mako wasn’t cold-hearted enough to say such things in front of a mother who had lost a daughter she didn’t get along with.

“…You’re Kotone’s mother, aren’t you?”

However, Harumi, who was standing beside her listening to the conversation, wasn’t that type of person.

“How can you say such things? No matter what, she was your daughter. Your daughter… passed away like that.”

Yuu felt his chest tightening more and more as he listened to this exchange.

It was as if they were slowly, continuously bringing to the forefront what he had been avoiding.

Because no matter how slight the hope might be, as Kagami had said, Kotone was dead. Right now, no matter what they did, they couldn’t bring her back to school, couldn’t put something delicious in her mouth, couldn’t laugh while watching her eat.

And perhaps they never would again.

“…”

Was Kagami equally shocked?

She stared at Harumi as if her words were somehow strange.

After standing there for a long time, Kagami said quietly,

“…Just because I gave birth to her doesn’t mean she’s my child.”

“Excuse me!”

Harumi exclaimed.

Mako’s face looked as if her soul had left her body.

Yuu glared at Kagami, but she turned away as if she had no more business with the three of them and walked back toward the school.

The students who had been watching from a distance also began to move hesitantly. Ah, that’s right. It was still the way home from school. Yuu felt like he had just returned to the real world. During the conversation, he had felt strangely distant from everything.

“What kind of person— Mako!”

As Harumi muttered, Mako’s body suddenly sank down.

Yuu, alarmed like Harumi, crouched down toward Mako, but fortunately, she hadn’t collapsed.

She was just squatting on the ground, looking down at the floor.

“…Why on earth…”

Mako’s face as she muttered those words looked so unfamiliar.

“Mako, let’s go somewhere we can rest. It’s cold out here.”

Harumi said, sniffling continuously. The tears in her eyes suggested it wasn’t just because of the cold.

“…Yeah, Mako. Your body is cold.”

Yuu also said as he put his arm around one of Mako’s arms to help her up.

It was true. Mako’s body was cold. Though she was wearing a coat, so the inside might not be cold, Yuu arbitrarily thought it probably was.

The three began to walk slowly. Harumi picked up the bag that Mako had dropped.

As they walked hesitantly, Yuu looked back.

He could see Kagami’s back.

Was it just his imagination?

That figure looked much more miserable than on the night when she lost Kotone.

*

Just because you give birth doesn’t necessarily make you a parent and child.

There are various ways people view the parent-child relationship.

Traditionally, if blood was connected, they were parent and child. The parent’s word was absolute, and the child had to follow it. It was the parent’s responsibility to feed the young child, and as long as the child grew up receiving that care, they were obligated to be filial to their parents.

If we’re talking about tradition, even if the balance is somewhat broken, some people would side with the parents. Many would prioritize the duties of a child over the duties of a parent.

Usually, conservative people view children from the parents’ perspective.

But in modern times, that relationship requires balance. Parents give, so children give back. Conversely, if children are filial, it’s natural for parents to reciprocate.

It doesn’t have to be just money and material things. Respect and love are enough. If those are sufficient, people would nod and see that family as ideal.

…Kotone, Koko, and Kagami were far removed from the framework of such a family.

Perhaps just giving birth doesn’t make someone a child. If that child doesn’t fulfill the duties expected of them as a child, people might not say much even if the parent severs ties.

But in this relationship, the one who unilaterally severed ties first was Kagami.

What would ordinary parents have done?

If a child was born with a sound body but an unsound mind, what would they have done?

…At the very least, they wouldn’t have left them in an empty room for over ten years.

No matter how times change, there’s something that remains constant when considering the “parent-child” relationship.

Almost no one questions a “child’s qualification.” Even if a child does something terrible, if the parent forgives and accepts them, that relationship is still a parent-child relationship. After all, the older one is the parent, and that child is the child.

But conversely, everyone questions a “parent’s qualification.”

Taking in a newborn who can’t do anything, feeding them, putting them to sleep, and clothing them. That’s the minimum duty of a parent, something a parent should naturally do.

Kagami failed to do that properly.

So—

At the school gate, Kagami paused for a moment.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. The end of that breath trembled slightly.

“I…”

She had felt it several times already.

That’s why she was clinging to it now.

It’s strange. Kagami, who had never felt maternal instinct until now, was feeling it just because her daughter had acknowledged her a few times.

Even though she had no “qualification” for it.

She thought that maybe if she invested a little time, it would be okay. It might be impossible to fully restore a mother-daughter relationship, but perhaps they could have some semblance of a family framework.

Kotone was the one who reached out first.

Kagami was the one who, while deliberating whether to take that hand or not, missed the opportunity altogether.

Perhaps this was just an ugly struggle.

“…”

Coming to the school might have been just because she wanted to feel that reality.

What would the homeroom teacher say when they saw Kagami?

With a small sigh, Kagami started moving again.

She only hoped she wouldn’t encounter Yuuki inside.

*

Yuka’s going up to the literature club after school was almost a reflex.

Usually, the path up there was somewhat anticipated.

It wasn’t like that from the beginning. For Yuka, that club was just a place she joined because of the chills she felt.

She had transferred to a nearby school to find the Agui, and so she had been on edge for a while.

On days when she didn’t feel those sensations, she sometimes didn’t go up at all. After all, club activities felt a bit like a waste of time to Yuka.

Since when had Yuka been climbing these stairs like this?

And why did she feel such joy while climbing the stairs?

…I’m not sure—

“…Oh.”

Yuka’s eyes widened as she climbed the stairs.

There were still unmistakable dark circles under her eyes, and her face looked haggard.

But at least she wasn’t too broken to miss this moment.

Feeling the goosebumps on her back, Yuka immediately ran up several steps at a time.

“Ah, wait— Yuuki!?”

She heard someone calling out midway, but she ignored it and kept running.

She had a knife in her hand— her fingertips trembled slightly. Her heart was racing madly. It was fear. Not fear of the yokai, but fear of the knife that had once been stained with a friend’s blood.

Something she had never felt before, despite wielding it many times.

If only it had been fear of the yokai or of cutting it.

Would she be able to cut the opponent properly if she drew it now?

Yuka cut off even that thought as she ran.

And then.

Bang!

She violently opened the literature club room door.

“…”

“…”

And she saw what looked like a somewhat joking scene.

“…Senpai?”

“Yu-Yuka.”

Kaoru blinked at Yuka’s words.

And Izumi sitting in front of her.

“…What are you doing right now?”

“Ah, well, that’s.”

Yuka’s expression showed she didn’t know how to interpret the current situation.

Kaoru and Izumi had both visited Kotone’s classroom. Yuka had seen Kaoru placing bread on Kotone’s desk from outside the window.

Both of them still had red, swollen areas under their eyes. Evidence that they had been crying for a long time.

“Right now, that’s—”

But what was between the two now was a ‘Kokkuri-san.’

In other words, a kind of spirit summoning ritual that’s like a game. Usually, it’s conducted without any seriousness.

And then Yuka understood.

What the source of the chills she was feeling was.

And what the two who had been crying for a long time were trying to do.