Ch.304IF Side Story: Seems I’ve Arrived a Bit Early (1)

My oldest memory in this world was of a girl holding me tightly as she ran.

A girl still showing traces of childhood on her face, far too young—

“It’s okay.”

That girl, far too young to bear someone else’s life, was saying that to me.

“It’s okay.”

As if she were also saying it to herself.

Even though she was panting for breath, even though her face was so pale it had turned blue as if she might collapse if she ran just a little more.

The girl kept running, regardless of her sweat-soaked hair sticking to her face.

Was someone chasing us? Why were we running away?

I, just a tiny child then, didn’t know.

Why am I here?

Am I dreaming?

Thinking this, I stretched my hand forward.

A small hand. Skin so delicate it seemed like it had never touched anything before, as if the slightest scratch would leave a large wound.

As I wiggled my short fingers and reached out, an unstable smile spread across the face of the girl looking down at me.

Though trembling with fear, the girl couldn’t hide her smile when she looked at me.

The running girl stopped.

She brought her trembling hand to mine. I instinctively gripped her fingers tightly.

A hand still too small to fully grasp an adult’s finger.

A hand too weak to hold onto something strongly.

But the girl smiled as if that hand was anchoring her to this world. The smile that had been like a crack slowly became a youthful smile befitting her age.

An expression that seemed to fear nothing in the world at that moment, somehow familiar as if I’d seen it somewhere before.

I tried to speak out of concern for the girl, but the sound that came from my still undeveloped throat and mouth was too awkward to be called speech.

Though my voice couldn’t convey even a single word, the girl hugged me tightly as if it were the most wonderful encouragement in the world.

The place where the girl stood holding me was deep in a forest.

On a dark night without even moonlight, the girl was carrying me, fleeing from something. As if a tiger were approaching from behind.

Maybe it would be easier to just give up.

If she was going to run away, a body like mine would just be a burden.

But the girl never let me go.

“It’s okay.”

Holding me tightly, the girl whispered softly in my ear.

My body clung tightly to hers as if curling up.

“It’s okay.”

Words repeated over and over.

Buried against the girl’s body, I couldn’t see anything.

But I wasn’t scared.

“I…”

Because the girl whispered in my ear.

“Mommy will protect you.”

A hand stroking my head.

Only then did I think with my sleepy mind.

Ah, I see.

I must have died.

And this must be the next life.

“Mommy will protect you.”

Even while suppressing her breathless voice, the girl whispered in my ear.

Though her voice was so small it seemed about to break, it never actually did.

At the core of that voice, I felt an unbreakable strength.

It was a kind of voice I’d occasionally heard before. In my previous life, I’d heard it from a woman who gripped her son’s hand tightly as he was about to suffocate from smoke inhalation.

I never knew whether that child lived or died, but even as the child was loaded into the ambulance, even as the ambulance doors were closing.

With severe burns and bandages all over her body, she never took her eyes off the child, staying by his side.

Mother.

Was this girl such a person too?

This young girl, a mother.

My mother.

“Kotone.”

The girl whispered in my ear.

“Kotone, my daughter…”

Was it because the night was deep?

Or was I tired from being held in the arms of the running girl for too long?

Or was it because her embrace felt so warm and safe?

That was the end of my memory from that day.

*

Like most childhood memories, my memories of my mother—Kagami Kurosawa—became more scattered the further back I went.

After that first memory, the Kagami Kurosawa I remember still had a youthful face.

She had grown a bit compared to my first memory, but judging by the traces of her teenage years still visible on her face, it must have been a few years later.

In those days, Kagami always went out to work.

Fortunately, the landlady of the single-room apartment building where we lived seemed to think of Kagami as a pitiful child.

She could have looked at her with disapproval for having a child my age at her young age.

Especially since this wasn’t the 2020s I remembered from my previous life, but the late 20th century.

By that time, I had realized I was Japanese living in Japan.

The 1990s. The TV and radio that the landlady kept on often mentioned the “bubble collapse.”

For someone like me who had only encountered Japan through manga and light novels, “bubble” was a term I had only briefly heard in economics textbooks.

It seems that period was “a difficult time for everyone.” Was it similar to the foreign exchange crisis I experienced in my childhood?

Despite the overall economy taking hits in various ways, whether because she had money saved just before the bubble burst, or because such kindness still remained in those days, the landlady willingly looked after me in place of my mother who went out to work.

I could somewhat guess why I didn’t go to kindergarten. Of course, both the landlady and I had enough sense not to ask about the reason.

Though my memories were hazy like a child’s, strangely my way of thinking remained exactly as it had been in my previous life, so I was treated as a “precocious child” among adults.

I understood what was said to me right away, and I never did anything adults told me not to do.

Sometimes I worried them by just standing blankly among children, but that was all.

It wasn’t that I disliked children, but honestly, it wasn’t easy to understand what children “my age” were saying. Perhaps because their way of thinking differed from adults, their stories often seemed fragmented, making it difficult to figure out what they were trying to say.

Even though I didn’t go to kindergarten, the children always included me when they played in the small playground in the corner of the alley. That kindness sometimes felt more perplexing.

But perhaps because of that “precocity.”

Once an adult forms the impression that a child “does well on their own,” their vigilance seems to relax a bit.

Well, it was Japan after all. Despite talk about the economy, it was clearly a country with top-tier public safety.

Even if someone briefly looked away from a child because an acquaintance started talking to them, they might think nothing serious would happen.

That day was like that too.

After finishing her housework, the landlady took me to the playground as usual. Children were already happily playing near the elephant-shaped slide.

Feeling a bit awkward about approaching and joining them directly, I stood a little distance away from the children as always.

Standing there blankly looking around, I saw the landlady engrossed in conversation with another woman.

A quiet residential area where only the sounds of children playing could be heard.

Just the occasional bird song—

As I was casually listening to these sounds and looking around, my eyes met someone’s.

An adult… it seemed.

A beautiful woman with white skin, wearing a white dress, with long black hair flowing down to her waist.

That overall impression.

“…Mom?”

I tilted my head.

She had a similar impression to Kagami, my mother.

Had she finished work early and come ahead?

I felt happy for no reason as she smiled at me and waved her hand.

I still hadn’t fully accepted this life because of my previous life’s memories. I didn’t know how long these “memories of my previous life” would last. I could only believe the story I’d heard somewhere that people remember their previous lives at birth but gradually forget as they age.

But even so, she was my only family in this world.

Besides, in my previous life, I had lost all my family—and here, if not for Kagami, I had no one to rely on completely.

Above all, how could I dislike someone who cared for me so sincerely?

I moved my short legs toward that “mother” who was waving her hand.

With my hands raised high, since Kagami always opened her arms wide for me when she came home.

And then, a thought occurred to me.

Had Kagami worn such clothes when she left?

No, had she ever worn such clothes in front of me?

Kagami always tried her best to save every penny. She had only the minimum amount of clothes. If possible, she spent money on buying clothes and shoes for me as I gradually grew.

Though still young, I sometimes thought she should spend a little on herself…

As I approached slowly, something felt strange.

She didn’t seem as young as Kagami.

The smile she gave me was different.

Unlike Kagami, who always smiled wholeheartedly, this smile seemed somewhat artificial and stiff.

Just as I realized this and stopped walking.

“Kotone!”

From behind, the landlady shouted in alarm and ran toward me.

My body was lifted up. The landlady held me in her arms and said,

“No, Kotone. Don’t go too far. Your mother would be upset if you got lost.”

Holding me tightly in her arms with relief, the landlady said.

“Mom is over there—”

“Hmm?”

The landlady followed my gaze.

But the woman in the white dress who had been standing there was gone.

Where had she disappeared to in that time?

“Who? Who are you talking about? Kotone-chan’s mother is still at work.”

“…”

Only after hearing those words did I feel a chill down my spine.

Had I almost followed someone I didn’t even know, calling them mom?

But that appearance…

*

“Ko-to-ne, Ko-to-ne!”

Kagami, who had returned home, held my outstretched hands tightly and lifted my arms while singing my name.

Then she let go of my hands, hugged me tightly, and lifted me up.

After thanking the landlady, she took me back to our single room where we lived.

The room was full of things for a child. Not many, and most were worn, but there were plenty of toys for me to play with, and a poster with Japanese kana in order was attached to the wall.

Looking at Kagami again as she put me down in the room, she was indeed wearing worn jeans and a hoodie as always. Definitely not a white dress.

She didn’t leave her long hair straight but tied it up to make it convenient for work.

Still beautiful, still young, but somehow I thought she looked “motherly.”

“Did you~ have fun playing with your friends today~?”

This way of speaking to a young child was a bit hard to get used to.

Well, I was… a young child after all.

“Yes.”

I answered.

“What fun things happened~?”

Originally, it might have been better not to say anything.

After all, she was a mother who always worked hard and lived in constant worry.

Adding one more unnecessary worry might make things too difficult for her.

But at the same time, thinking back to the sensation I felt earlier that day.

…It was dangerous.

That’s what I thought.

My oldest memory was being held in Kagami’s arms as she fled without knowing why.

Recalling that memory, I must have said,

“I saw Mom.”

“Huh?”

At my words, Kagami’s face froze.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“At the playground.”

“Me?”

Once again, Kagami asked, pointing to her own face as if to confirm.

Indeed, looking again, Kagami looked younger.

But at the same time, that face was also a very similar face.

“Yes.”

“…How?”

“Wearing a white skirt, waving at me…”

Kagami’s face hardened.

I could see her breathing becoming rapid.

“Mom?”

“…How.”

Her voice became serious.

Before I could say anything, Kagami was already moving.

She pulled out a large bag from the corner of the room, roughly took out all the clothes from the makeshift closet, and stuffed them in. Somehow fitting in all the supplies needed to raise me too.

“Mom?”

“It’s okay.”

Kagami said with a trembling voice.

“It’s okay, Kotone. Mommy will protect you.”

“…Mom?”

When I blinked and spoke, Kagami’s movements stopped abruptly.

Then with a somewhat awkward, creaking smile, she looked at me.

Gently placing her hand on my shoulder, Kagami tried to stay calm and said,

“Sh-shall we go on a trip? Just, just a little away from here.”

“…”

“Don’t worry. Mommy will somehow manage where we sleep and what we eat.”

“…Okay.”

I could only give such an answer.

Kagami moved urgently again. She stuffed everything useful from the house, everything we needed to live, into the bag somehow, and took out a white envelope to put money in.

Then she took out a piece of paper and wrote on it: [I’m sorry. Due to sudden circumstances, we can no longer live here. I’m leaving this month’s rent here. I couldn’t prepare a gratuity. Please use the deposit instead. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.]

She placed it on the table where it would be visible, then put the bag on her back.

And she picked me up and hugged me tightly.

“Kotone.”

“Yes.”

“It’s okay.”

Mom said again, as if also speaking to herself.

“Really. Mommy will definitely protect you.”

With a voice that was trembling but at the same time would never break.

And so, we left that place.

I never saw the landlady again after that.

Nor the children I had played with.

Because we never returned to that place.