V3Ch1: Overcoming sadness Part 4

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Translator: Soafp

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That night.

“…Thanks to Dad, I can't sleep now…”

Turning his father's words over and over in his head, Sho lay in bed unable to sleep, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

“I wonder… what Hikaru thinks about all this?”

His parents always said things to him about Hikaru, but was she being told the same things? If she was, how did she answer each time?

“Now I'm even less sleepy…”

Thinking about it only made his eyes feel wider awake. It would be easy enough to just ask Hikaru. She was in the guest room; he could just go and ask. That was all.

By now there wasn't anything Sho found hard to ask Hikaru. Even a slightly intrusive topic could be worked into a half-joke, and she would usually end up telling him.

And if it were the other way around, Sho would probably answer her too.

But—

They were both already twenty-three. It wasn't like when they were students anymore. If Sho asked her about this like he always did, and Hikaru gave him an answer he'd never expected…

(If she said, “I don't want to just be childhood friends anymore,” then it'd be awkward to face her.
But if she said instead, “I have no intention of having that kind of relationship with you,” that'd be just as shocking and awkward to face her…)

Either answer would shatter the status quo of “childhood friends” the moment one of them asked the question.

“…Is there anything to eat?”

Thinking too much had made him hungry. Sho headed to the kitchen.

“…Huh?”

Just as Sho grabbed a fish sausage and milk from the fridge, he heard something coming from the hallway.

“What the… Ghost games at our age? That's too childish.”

It had to be Hikaru's doing.

She must have noticed he'd come downstairs and was trying to prank him.

Sho thought so and slipped quietly out from the living room into the hallway, careful not to make a sound.

He'd give her a little scare back. Just a bit of mischief.

But—

When he stepped into the hallway, Hikaru was nowhere to be seen.

“No way… a ghost?”

A shiver crept up Sho's spine. He listened closely to the pitch-dark hallway.

“…Eh?”

It sounded like crying. And it was a voice Sho knew well.

“Hika…ri?”

Sho moved toward the guest room where Hikaru was supposed to be resting. Standing before the door, he immediately realized the crying was indeed hers.

The same Hikaru who had been so bright and cheerful before bed was now crying alone in her room. Sho could hardly believe it.

“Hikaru…?”

The guest room door had a lock, but when Sho put his hand on the knob, it wasn't locked. He hesitated about entering.
Even if they were childhood friends, they were adults of the same age now, and opposite sexes. He couldn't just barge in.

“Hikaru… I'm coming in.”

He knocked twice and cracked the door slightly, telling her before entering.

“…………”

No answer.

But Hikaru was the kind who would always say so if she didn't want something. Her silence felt like permission.
Trusting that, Sho slowly opened the door.

“Hey… what's wrong?”

In the corner of the guest room, Hikaru was sitting on the floor hugging her knees, crying. Not on the bed, not on the single sofa—on the floor in the corner.

Sho slowly moved closer.

Hikaru had noticed him come in.

Her sobs loud enough to be heard from the hallway had already stopped.

“Sho-chan…”

She looked up at him with tear-soaked, bloodshot eyes.

The scene was just like old times. Hikaru always cried alone, and Sho always found her like this, looking up at him with red eyes.

Without asking much, Sho sat down back-to-back with her. This too hadn't changed.

He could never bring himself to hug her or pat her head—the kind of manly gestures one might expect.
Instead, he always sat back-to-back until she stopped crying and stood up.

Sometimes she would talk about what was on her mind; other times she would just cheer up on her own. For Sho, it was enough if her mood returned.

“…At times like this, call me, okay?”

He hadn't meant it as a complaint. He had just packed all his “I worry about you” into that one sentence.

“…Sorry.”

Relieved by Sho's presence, Hikaru apologized honestly.

“If you want to talk, you can tell me anything.”

Sho said, as always. But as far as he could remember, it had been five years since Hikaru had been like this.

A brief silence.

“…You know…”

“Yeah.”

And silence again. Hikaru struggled to find words, and Sho waited without pressing her. A time that existed only because they were childhood friends.

“When I have a fun time with you, with dad and mom… I realize all over again the ‘hole' I've been trying to fill…”

“Yeah…”

Sho had felt the same thing for ten years.

“Dad's there, mom's there, you're there… and I come over and we all laugh together. But Saki-san should be there too. Why did she have to be taken from us? She never did anything bad, nothing to make someone hate her. And yet…”

Saki, whose life had been taken unjustly ten years ago.

What remains in the hearts of those left behind is endless anger and hatred toward the perpetrator.

[Once the culprit is arrested, the case is resolved.]

Only people on the outside can think that. Even if the culprit is arrested, even if they're later executed, that does not heal the sadness of those who have lost someone precious.

Their belongings, faint lingering scents, clothing, photos, memories…

Every time they touch or see one of those things, those left behind feel pain in their chest. No matter how beautiful, nostalgic, or precious the item is. Every memory of the deceased squeezes the heart and hurts fiercely.

That is what it is to be a victim's family.

Incidents fade from the memories of outsiders, but for those involved, they remain forever like a wedge driven into the heart.

“Every time I remember kind Saki-san… my chest hurts! Even after ten years… the pain has never lessened!”

Hikaru beat her chest with her clenched fist.

“Hikaru…”

“This pain is even worse, so much worse! More and more…”

“Enough already…”

Unable to watch her keep pounding her chest with such force that the sound was audible, Sho grabbed her wrist.

“Let go!”

Already half out of her senses, Hikaru.

At that moment, Sho realized something.

That same dark, ugly emotion he had once felt toward the culprit—there was someone else here who carried it too.

“Sho-chan, aren't you frustrated? How can you stay so calm? Even now, how can you still be so calm?”

Through tears, Hikaru asked Sho.

Sho gently wrapped both of her clenched fists with his hands.

“I may look like this… but even now I still hate the guy. If he's sentenced to death, I want to be the one to send him off myself. The moment I let my guard down, what flashes in my mind is my sister's smile. She's never coming back, but the instant I relax, it feels like I can see her again, that I can meet her. And when I let myself think that way, I start to fall apart. But you know…”

A heat welled up in Sho's chest. These were words he'd wanted to say to himself.

“I asked myself… if I kept rotting away like that, if I grew up fueled by nothing but hatred for the culprit, if I eventually got married and had a family while still holding onto that hatred… would my sister really smile down on me from heaven? That's what I wondered.”

“…That's…”

Hikaru's face clouded.

She had probably thought the same thing at least once before.

She immediately understood what Sho meant, and yet she said to him—

“That's true, but… do people who die really leave anything behind, even if it's only their hearts, only their feelings? Isn't it possible that nothing remains at all? That neither this world nor the next matters, and they only exist as a memory in us?”

“…That's…”

Yes. The idea that the dead are watching over us from heaven, or that they will be reborn in the next life—that's just an ideal humans with knowledge cling to.

In reality, no one who has died has ever reported back, “This is what happens after death.”

“People always want to believe the better version. But in reality, most of the time, it's not like that. People say things to victims' families or friends like, ‘If the culprit is caught, they'll rest in peace,' or, ‘Someday it will become just a memory.' But it's not true. Even if the culprit is arrested, even if it means no more victims will come after… Saki-san is still gone, and she'll never come back…”

Through tears, Hikaru spoke the truth. And Sho agreed with her entirely.

Because the ones who wrap everything up in ideals are always outsiders—people who were never actually involved.

“Hikaru… everything you said is true. It's the correct logic.”

That was Sho's honest feeling.

“But you know… when my sister was gone—no, when she was taken from me—I realized something. Just like you said, the culprit being arrested isn't the goal. For us, the victims' family, the real start is losing my sister. From there begins the endless suffering. That's what I learned. So…”

Sho thought of Saki. Always kind, always treating him like a child, always smiling gently at him…

The memories brought tears to his eyes. He held them back, and told Hikaru firmly:

“Maybe it's just wishful thinking. Maybe it's just a fantasy. But even so… we— I think we want to cling to something that soft, if only to feel that my sister still lives on in our hearts. You're probably right: maybe there really is no heaven for the dead, no such thing as reincarnation. But by believing that she's still watching over us, it feels like we can be saved, even if only a little… right?”

It's not something most people experience. And it's better not to experience it at all.

Sho, and his family too, had been groping around to create their own way to find peace.

That Saki was watching over them from heaven. That's what they chose to believe.

“…Hey, Sho-chan.”

“…Yeah?”

Having slowly regained her composure, Hikaru asked Sho:

“This might be a silly question, but… why do crimes never go away? Everyone grows up being told as kids not to do things that hurt others, to act with consideration for people around them. So why are there still so many selfish adults, even after they grow up…?”

It was the most natural of questions.

Even today in Japan, crimes so foolish that even children can see them as foolish are happening everywhere.
And most of them are the selfish, self-centered actions of adults—the very people who should be role models for children.

“Really. Because of stupid crimes by stupid adults, kids are forced to feel sadness and fear… I really think something's wrong with Japan today.”

Sho felt the same.

Families who had lived earnestly, working hard, trying not to trouble anyone, suddenly had their loved ones stolen from them by senseless crime.

“And then when the culprit is arrested, they say the case is solved. But the only thing solved is the incident itself. For families like us, the word ‘solved' will never exist. They should save that word for when a lost item is found.”

Ever since the culprit was caught, Sho's family had continued to suffer.

Outsiders shouting about the criminal's human rights.

Meanwhile, the victims' families had their faces shown, exposed to slander and abuse from the heartless.
While the perpetrator's family was never revealed.

And if the victims' family hoped for the death penalty, people appeared to say, “But the culprit is human too.”
Even though that “human” had taken so many lives.

“It really is unfair. And through all that, we've been grieving, haven't we…”

How many times had they swallowed their pitch-black emotions and vile words?

Even so, Sho had decided to face forward, lift his head, and walk on.

“Still, we have to live on. We must live. For my sister's share too. That's why… if we're going to keep on living, we can't spend our lives spitting curses and hating people forever. When the time comes that we have a family, when children are born and grow up, we have to guide them toward a bright future.”

“Sho-chan…”

To Hikaru, the childhood friend she had always thought of as like a younger brother suddenly looked dazzling.

So strong, so forward-looking—he had become such an adult.

“Somehow… listening to you, Sho-chan, I feel so small in comparison.”

Saying that, Hikaru smiled. Seeing her smile, Sho finally felt relief.

“…I'm hungry.”

“Me too! Should I make us something for a late-night snack?”

“Yeah… I'd appreciate that.”

“Okay! I'll put all my love into it!”

Ten years ago, the incident had left these two childhood friends with deep scars in their hearts.

But like this, by encouraging and supporting each other, they continued to live strong.