Chapter 8: A Year-Late Way of Mourning

“Phew, I’m stuffed!”

Letting out a big sigh, Hikari Mikoto patted her belly.

She was wearing the blue tracksuit I used back in middle school. It clearly didn’t fit her—she’d rolled the cuffs up several times to adjust the length.

In other words, it was way too big.

Even through the oversized clothes, her belly stuck out noticeably, round and full.

“…You ate three bowls of rice. That’s too much,” I muttered, unable to hide my exasperation.

Naturally, I hadn’t expected Hikari to come back.

So tonight’s dinner wasn’t anything fancy—mostly just leftovers from lunch.

And yet, she dug in like she hadn’t eaten in ages, polishing off three heaping bowls of white rice.

Her frame had become smaller and slimmer compared to a year ago.

Where the hell was she putting it all? I seriously wanted someone to study her stomach capacity.

“But your mom’s cooking is still as amazing as ever! And it’s been a while since I had proper Japanese food, too.”

“Hehe, thank you, Hikari-kun.”

Well, from the cook’s point of view, it’s better to have someone eat heartily than leave leftovers.

Mom gently patted Hikari’s head, and she closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the affection.

As we drank tea after dinner, a peaceful silence settled over us.

It felt like the first time in forever that I could truly relax—a nostalgic kind of calm.

But of course, it didn’t last long.

And the one who broke it was none other than Mom.

“Sorry to bring this up right after you ate, but there’s something I’d like you to see, Hikari-kun.”

“…Something you want me to see?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, Mom fixed her with a serious gaze, and a question mark all but floated above Hikari’s head.

But Mom didn’t seem interested in offering any more explanation.

She stood up without another word.

“Well, let’s go.”

“Eh? You’re coming too, Yosuke? Wait, do you even know where we’re going?”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

After all, there weren’t many places in the house that had anything to do with Hikari.

One of them—her old room—I’d already shown her earlier when she changed into the tracksuit.

“…Don’t tell me, you fattened me up just so you could eat me.”

“…If anyone’s getting eaten here, it’s probably us. And anyway, you’re the one who stuffed yourself.”

“…I was joking.”

Hikari looked unconvinced, but I just shrugged and followed after Mom, with her trailing behind.

The room we were led to was a tatami-floored one at the far end of the house, past the front entrance.

“…Is this…?”

Hikari’s eyes widened, and she muttered in shock.

Her gaze was fixed on a small Buddhist altar.

More precisely—on the two framed photos resting there.

Memorial portraits.

“Dad and Mom…? Why are their pictures in your house…?”

She asked the question aloud without thinking.

The one who answered was Mom.

“After you disappeared, Hikari-kun, their funeral was held. At the time, I insisted—perhaps selfishly—that we be allowed to keep their portraits here. I knew it was a bit out of line, but… Yosuke wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“I… see…”

Her red eyes trembled as she turned to look at me. I gave her a silent nod.

After Hikari vanished a year ago, the funeral for her parents was carried out by relatives.

By pure chance, I happened to overhear something her uncle—the one acting as the chief mourner—said.

“Even in death, my disgraceful brother manages to bring shame on the family… what with that missing son of his.”

“Still, we have no choice but to hold a funeral, even if it’s just for appearances. I imagine we’ll toss out the keepsakes soon enough, anyway.”

The moment I heard that… I saw red.

That was all there was to it.

“…Wait, could this stuff…?”

Hikari’s gaze next landed on a small accessory box sitting off to the side.

When she opened it, inside were things like an amber-colored brooch and a pair of black-rimmed glasses.

“I spoke to the superintendent of your apartment,” Mom explained. “I asked if, instead of throwing them away, he would let us keep whatever he could. Thankfully, because of your father’s job, we’ve got plenty of storage space here.”

Of course, we hadn’t been able to save everything. In fact, more had been lost than kept.

Even so, Hikari seemed… grateful.

“Thank you, Yosuke… I thought they were either still at the apartment or already gone…”

“It’s not a big deal. But if there was any chance you might come back, I figured this was the right thing to do.”

“…Yeah…”

That was all she could manage in reply. Her gaze turned again to the two memorial portraits.

Her lips were pressed into a tight line, and her fists, resting on her knees, were clenched.

“…Well then, how about we give her a little space?” Mom said gently. “Other people will need the room later, and Yosuke—you should go ahead and take your bath now.”

“…Got it.”

With Mom’s gentle prompting, we left the room, leaving Hikari alone.

…It probably happened right as the door slid shut behind us.

“Dad… Mom… I’m sorry…! I didn’t even get to talk to you one last time… I couldn’t even be at the funeral…!”

The dam broke. Her sobs spilled out in a torrent.

“I know it might be too late now… And I don’t even have the body you gave me anymore…!”

Her voice was faint—muffled by the door between us—but we could still hear it.

It was quiet, yet somehow crushing.

“But… I came back… I came home…! U…waaaaah…!”

Her heartbreaking cries echoed in my ears… long after we’d walked away.