Chapter 85: Ukai’s wife.

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Translated and Edited by: luccayn.

Common Honorifics:
-san: A polite suffix, but not excessively formal.
-kun: A common suffix among friends and younger people.
-chan: A common suffix among people you're close with, mostly used for feminine nicknames and girls, since it's cutesy and childlike.
-senpai: A common suffix and noun used to address or refer to one's older or more senior colleagues in a school, workplace, dojo, or sports club.

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“Well, if it isn't the freeter. I thought I already repaid you for helping with the funeral?”

Ukai-san's wife.

Or maybe his girlfriend, mistress, or live-in partner—I never really figured out the exact relationship. Either way, just like the other day, she responded curtly through the auto-lock intercom set at the entrance.

“I'd like to speak with you. I know it's a presumptuous request, but could you let us in again?”

“What are you saying? Of course not. I'm feeling down right now.”

She was exactly the kind of person I'd imagined. Speaking entirely from emotion without bothering with polite pretense—it was refreshing. I'd learned all too well from the matter with Kumoi that with people like her, it's best not to bother with roundabout strategies.

“I understand. But as the siblings of your son, there are things we want to ask you.”

About ten seconds passed. A painful silence hung in the quiet marble hall before the automatic glass doors opened with a mechanical hum, swinging wide.

“Come in.”

As soon as we stepped inside, Michiru immediately asked if she could borrow the shower. I thought, what the hell is she saying out of nowhere? But then I figured it might be a matter of etiquette that's crucial for a girl, so I kept my mouth shut.

“What's the situation?”

“Actually, I haven't been home since yesterday morning and I feel all sticky. The sea breeze dried out my hair, too. If I don't freshen up, I'd have to talk to Kakeru's mother in a filthy state. Ah, I'm so sorry. It's disgraceful for a woman to appear like this in front of someone older.”

…That was so obviously forced.

“Whatever, do as you like.”

“Thank you very much. I'll take you up on that.”

Kakeru's mother sighed in exasperation when she looked at me, lit a cigarette, and sat down at the dining table. I felt the same. Maybe she and I weren't so different after all.

She probably thought something along the lines of “I get where she's coming from as a woman, and I can't be bothered to deal with this any longer.” On my part, I figured one day wouldn't hurt, bowed my head slightly, and sat down across from her.

Her straightforward approach to finding solutions wasn't something I disliked.

“So, my son. You call him Kakeru?”

“Yes. I don't know what name you used, but that's what we call him.”

“His name is Shinji.”

…What?

“That child's real name is Shinji. Until we sent him to the church, that's what we called him.”

I was stunned by how much crazier that man was than I'd imagined. Just as he'd said during his confession—‘I knew it'—he had known about me even before I took the money to Tori Kairōn.

But thinking about it, that was inevitable.

The reason I even decided to pay off the debt was because of that direct mail collection notice. The moment he sent it to my deceased grandma's place, it was clear he knew I was living there.

Maybe I forgot that we'd met, or maybe he had only known me from one side. Either way, for someone who was so obsessively in love with me, he never once let it show.

…I don't even have words to describe that b*****d.

“Maybe three years, I think. We lived together for that long, and after Shinji learned to talk, he suddenly said, ‘This isn't it.' After that, it was like Tōru-san lost all interest in the child. It was painful, but for me, Tōru-san was more important than the child. I didn't believe I could raise him alone if he left me, so I gave the kid up.”

“I see.”

“So? How's Shinji? Doing okay?”

Calm down.

I don't have a mother. She's not talking about me. And now's not the time to get mad over this kind of irresponsibility.

I'm calm. I need to do what must be done.

“Yes, he's doing well. He's grown into someone so bright and honest it's hard to believe he's my brother.”

“Huh, I see. Then I guess it was the right decision to leave him.”

“That's just hindsight. If he'd grown up with you, he might have found a different kind of ‘right.' If I may say, you're just trying to escape your guilt.”

Get a grip.

“…Still, either way, Shinji wouldn't have turned out like you. Am I wrong?”

She said it without hesitation, without pain, without spite. Just flatly.

From my reaction, she must have realized why my father gave Kakeru the name “Shinji.” I thought I'd maintained a calm demeanor, but it's hard to fool a mother.

She did seem to suspect she'd seen me somewhere before. Maybe she had already figured it out back then.

“Don't you want to meet Kakeru?”

“Not really. I wouldn't even know what to say to him. Besides, just seeing you and your sister tells me the church was a better place than I ever could have been.”

“…I see.”

I was honestly glad Michiru didn't hear that. Of course, she knows nothing—she thinks I came from the church and knows nothing about Michiru's past either.

But I have no intention of explaining Michiru and Kakeru's painful past to the mother who ran away. She doesn't even want to see Kakeru. I have no obligation to tell her anything.

“Tōru-san wanted a replacement for you. Now I get why he chose me.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Why don't you tell me what you think I mean?”

I hadn't expected to be tested like this, but it was worth thinking about. If that b*****d had asked her to bear his replacement for me, then it meant she had value as a replacement for my mother.

He tried to love me through someone else. He tried to raise someone else in my place. I don't even want to imagine his reasoning behind it, but since he knew I had siblings, it's unlikely guilt was what motivated him.

I don't know what exactly about me he loved so much, but it's clear he wanted something similar. And as a human being, the only way to create someone similar to another person is to do it that way.

“In other words, it's because you're my mother's younger sister.”

“…I see. Now I understand why Tōru-san loved you so damn much.”

And at that moment, I understood. My mother was already—

“I hate you more than anyone in the world.”

There was hatred in her eyes. An anger that had nowhere to go, no one to blame, and was all-consuming. A cold, sharp rage I'd never seen before pierced me. Her gaze screamed that she would never forgive me, not in this life.

“Even the most evil person can be someone's savior, depending on who's looking. No one is bad to everyone. I understand that much.”

“You sound like you know it all.”

“It's not that I sound like it. I do know.”

“How arrogant. Or are you just being overly self-conscious, trying to act like the tragic hero?”

“No. I know nothing else. I just happen to know only that one thing.”

And then, still glaring at me, she cried—but I didn't offer her a handkerchief.

“I hated my sister too. Always pretending not to know anything even though she knew everything. Always standing on the same level, gently trying to guide me. But deep down, she looked down on stupid people like me.”

I decided to stay quiet and just listen to her.

“Even an idiot knows when they're being looked down on. I knew she was dumbing herself down just to talk to me. But that kind of kindness only stings your inferiority complex.”

That's just how you felt, I wanted to say—but then I remembered the past me who looked down on people he couldn't communicate with, and swallowed the excuse.

“Tōru-san saved someone like me. He taught me that even idiots can be useful in their own way. Only someone like him could make someone like me understand my own worth.”

“I don't see that much difference between you and me.”

“And that's exactly the kind of fake, surface-level kindness that pisses me off. You've probably been through worse than me, fought through more pain—I can tell. And I can tell you're forcing yourself to stay calm. But still…”

That's why I know that the belief in people saving themselves, in loneliness and self-reliance, is just an illusion.

“Saving someone is a real thing. People who need help and can't be saved without it exist. And there are those who can save themselves even if no one helps them. Some people live in a world where they never feel lonely. Some people don't mind loneliness. Some die alone without anyone knowing. And there are people like you who survive alone. The world is full of all kinds of people—it's truly unfair…”

That's why she can't stand people who are chosen, who go through life unaware of their own talent.

“…I'll keep your words in mind.”

He died, and I couldn't resolve anything. So I understood all too well how she felt about not being able to find closure after her sister's death.

“Good. Do that. That way, my shitty life might at least be worth something.”

Then let me, his leftover, carry her hatred. That can be my offering to him, my tribute to her. A warped kind of filial piety. That's probably why I came here.

I didn't have any other real thoughts about it.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Thank you for the bath.”

“…Heh, don't mention it.”

In contrast, her expression toward the freshly bathed, steamy Michiru was a touch gentler. A proper adult response to a teenager, fitting for her age.

Maybe she answered our questions without bitterness and took all the hate on herself so she could speak freely with Michiru.

If that isn't kindness, then what is? If she'd met different people, had just a bit more luck, maybe she wouldn't have ended up hating herself so much.

We really are alike, she and I.

That's probably why my father chose her.

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