It was the afternoon of the third day since Tsumugi had left for the overnight training camp. Until today, I had been restless even during work breaks and in my spare time.
Even when I looked at documents, the words wouldn’t sink in. Even when I stared at the computer screen, I’d find my gaze drifting blankly to the clock.
…I wonder what Tsumugi is doing right now. I hope she’s eating properly. I hope she’s sleeping well.
Such thoughts kept surfacing and lingering, refusing to fade away. I noticed myself repeating the same actions over and over, yet I couldn’t stop.
“Tsumugi, I wonder if she’ll come back…”
My softly whispered words vanished, reaching no one.
Until now, whenever I returned from work, she was always at home. Even if the entrance was pitch dark when I opened the door, her presence was definitely there, beyond the room door. No matter how sharp her words were, no matter how much hatred she hurled at me, she never left the house.
That had become the norm. And just that alone gave me some sense of security.
But now, I haven’t seen her face or heard her voice. Such days have already continued for three days. It’s only been three days, yet it feels so long.
Even as I returned home thinking such thoughts, it was still devoid of any sound, and the air in the hallway was cold. There was no one to face across the dinner table.
Being rejected is painful. Every time heartless words are thrown at me, the depths of my chest ache.
Even so, there’s something I absolutely want to avoid even more than that.
It’s losing Tsumugi.
If she doesn’t come back like this… Just thinking that makes my footing feel like it’s about to crumble.
She is the last, thick and certain connection binding me and Shiori. She is the wish Shiori entrusted to me at the end, its sole form.
If I can’t even protect that… if I lose Tsumugi, my heart might truly break.
The vivid traces of Shiori that remain within Tsumugi. Feeling them sometimes makes my chest tighten and hurts. But if even that were to disappear… I would be…
“It’s okay… It’ll definitely be okay…”
As if persuading myself, I open my notebook. Tucked inside is a photo of Shiori, whom I loved. Her slightly faded smile is still vivid, and even though I’ve seen it countless times, each time my heart trembles deep within.
“Shiori…”
I wonder if I’m properly protecting your wish. I wonder if I’m doing well enough. Asking such questions, I gently trace Shiori’s image with my fingertip.
Facing the smile I’ve seen countless times, I desperately wished.
—Tsumugi, come back.
—Please, come back properly.
—Shiori, lend me just a little bit of your strength.
That was the moment.
From the direction of the entrance, there was a small click sound.
“…!”
My heart leaped. Not caring that the chair fell over, I hurried toward the entrance.
Standing there was—
“…W-welcome back, Tsumugi.”
It was Tsumugi.
She had lowered her Boston bag from her shoulder and was standing there with an utterly exhausted face. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and there were faint shadows under her eyes.
Even so, she had properly come back.
Just that alone caused the anxiety that had built up deep in my chest to unravel all at once. I desperately fought back the feeling of my knees going weak.
“…”
There was no reply. She wouldn’t even meet my gaze. But she was properly here.
The air in the entrance felt filled for the first time in three days.
If it were Shiori, the moment she found Tsumugi standing frozen in the entrance, she would have closed the distance without hesitation and gently wrapped her arms around her. “Welcome back,” she would have said, laughing in her usual way. She might have tidied Tsumugi’s slightly messy hair or patted her head.
But I can’t do that. If I did such a thing, I would surely be strongly rejected. The moment I touched her, I’d probably be shaken off.
Even so, I gently closed the distance by just one step and spoke in as calm a voice as possible.
“Welcome back. …Your luggage must have been heavy. Rest well.”
“…I’ll rest without you telling me to.”
Her words were prickly, and she still wouldn’t meet my gaze, but she replied. She didn’t deny being tired. That alone was enough for me right now.
Just being able to exchange words like this made me happier than anything. The distance that had been a complete void for three whole days felt like it had shrunk by just a few centimeters.
Then Tsumugi, as if to say “do the laundry,” placed her Boston bag on the floor and headed straight for her room.
Watching her back, I reached out for the bag.
But Tsumugi stopped in front of the door—
“…I’m not sure if I should ask you this.”
Without turning around, she said in a low voice.
“I can’t think of it on my own, so tell me.”
“Y-yes. What is it?”
Those words sounded, for just a moment, like she was relying on me.
I desperately suppressed the urge to rush over. I waited for her to make the next move.
Tsumugi slowly turned around, a faint smile on her lips. But her eyes were still stained with hatred.
“How can I make you despair?”
“…!”
“How can I make you fall into hell?”
Each word pierced quietly, surely, deep into my chest.
“That’s all I thought about during this entire overnight training camp. But—”
Tsumugi shrugged her shoulders slightly with a gesture tinged with self-mockery.
“No matter how much I think about it, I can’t find the answer.”
Her gaze was directed straight at me.
“Hey, tell me. It’s about you, after all.”
“…”
“My head feels like it’s going to break. I’m begging you for life.”
It sounded like a joke.
The thing that would truly make me despair… The thing that would make me see even more hell—
Is if Tsumugi were gone.
I could never say such a thing. The moment I said it, she might truly disappear.
If that happened, I wouldn’t be able to face Shiori, and above all… I would completely lose my reason for living.
Unable to say anything, I just stood there frozen.
“…Haa.”
Tsumugi let out a sigh as if exasperated, as if giving up.
“Forget it.”
Saying only that, she opened the room door. Then, without looking back, she vanished into the room beyond.
The tense air slowly settled. Left alone in the hallway, I slowly let out a heavy breath.
“…I’ve already seen hell.”
My softly whispered words reached no one.
No matter what words were thrown at me, I was made to realize once again that all I could do was continue standing here.