Chapter 86: Back to that place.

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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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To put it simply, I wasn't able to learn much from Kakeru's mother about the blood ties between Michiru and me.

According to her, she never saw signs of any other woman around that man. And my mother—her older sister—definitely had a child with him. She said my mother died shortly after giving birth to me, and that her grave is currently in Hokkaido. She also said she never met Michiru's mother directly.

But what stood out the most in that conversation was the following line:

“There were apparently quite a few girls who did all sorts of incomprehensible things, trying to get on Tooru-san's good side just so they could have his child.”

“Incomprehensible things” most likely referred to bearing a child without being certain whether it was actually his. Was it money, or was it the raw allure he possessed? Either way, there were apparently more than a few women who resorted to desperate and extreme measures because of it.

“She said she'd seen so many women like that over the years that she'd grown numb to it. Probably sick of everything, but still couldn't bear to let her pride be trampled. Then, before she knew it, time passed, she got older, and by coincidence, she ended up meeting me, so I guess she settled on me.”

Back in elementary school, maybe I'd have still understood it, but as I am now—someone far removed from being popular—I just couldn't relate. Haruta, I wonder if you'd understand what kind of man Ukai was.

“Kakeru's mother was really beautiful, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Wonder what she used to do in the past. If she was in Tokyo, maybe she was an office lady? Or maybe something in sales?”

“Who knows.”

“She wouldn't have looked out of place as a model, or even a famous hostess. She was the kind of person who could've done anything. Second most beautiful woman I've seen, after me. After me, that is.”

“Yeah, no doubt.”

Perhaps because one hope had been dashed, Michiru was forcing herself to talk cheerfully. One way or another, it seemed she didn't have enough experience with failure—experiences where trying had led to nothing.

“Don't worry. It's not over yet. There's still another place we can check.”

“…Phew.”

It was a blatant reaction. Watching her expressions change so quickly was honestly entertaining, but I wondered—would I still think that way even if it were about my little sister?

I didn't want to see her angry, or shocked, or crying. But still, wanting to see her various expressions, wanting to know how she'd react emotionally—was that something people felt even about family?

And yet, why did it feel vaguely different?

“But it might be a painful place for you. If you don't want to go, you can just head back to the Machiya house.”

“Don't say something so dumb. I'm not going back unless I'm with you… But, where are we going?”

“To the church where you were raised.”

From here we headed in the direction of Machiya, this time taking the bypass that led straight to the opposite side of Shimajū Lake. Along the way, the buildings grew taller for a brief moment, narrowing the sky, but that didn't last long. Soon enough, we were surrounded by nothing but mountains, fields, and scattered one-story homes—countryside, plain and simple.

During the bus ride, Michiru held my hand tightly and never let go. She gripped it firmly, yet never once met my eyes, choosing instead to gaze out the window at the blue sky.

The cold of my hand had already been warmed by her body temperature. I couldn't remember the last time my fingertips hadn't felt numb.

“This is the next stop.”

At her prompting, we got off the bus. It was 3 p.m., and the sun was already tilting westward.

At first glance, it seemed like a decently sized town, but there was something lonely about it. I wondered why, and when I peeked at the nearby shopping district, the reason became clear. Most of the shops had their shutters down.

“I see.”

Most likely, a large shopping mall had opened nearby and stolen away all the customers. The strange sense of absence came from the lack of sound. This town had so little human presence, it was eerie.

It was a ghost town. One of those forgotten places left behind in the past, scattered all across Japan.

“I remember once, I bought a croquette from the butcher shop here. The lunch lady had hurt her back, so Chisato-chan and I came on an errand and snacked on it together.”

“So you've got good memories here too.”

“Not everything was bad, you know. I didn't hate singing, and being used to having all eyes on me without getting embarrassed—that's thanks to those experiences.”

But as she spoke, it seemed to hit her. Not just her mother—she'd abandoned that Chisato-senpai too.

“Don't you dare apologize.”

“…Huh?”

“You didn't do anything wrong, and you didn't make a mistake. So there's no reason for you to feel guilty toward your mother or your senpai.”

“But I, I left everyone behind—”

I pulled Michiru into a hug without letting her finish. It was faster than trying to reason with her, and I figured it was something I could get away with. More than anything, I just wanted to comfort her this way.

“It's okay. You're not at fault. And I'm here for you.”

A few seconds later, I pulled back, and Michiru stood frozen, her face bright red. When I looked into her eyes, she let out a soft “Uu…” and, as if making up her mind, tilted her head upward and closed her eyes.

No way.

“It's okay, Shinji-kun…”

She was waiting for a kiss.

“This is not the time for that!!”

I gave her a light chop on the top of her head, and muttering “Ouch,” she trudged after me as I started walking quickly. No matter how you looked at it, this was clearly a serious, heartfelt scene, not the time for flirting.

“But you were so cool just now.”

Yeah, thanks. Doesn't mean I can just accept that so easily.

“I was like, ‘Oh, so this is where this is going? That's unexpected.' Even if no one else was around, making a move like that right in the middle of a shopping street during the day? That's bold.”

“That's not the point! Idiot!”

Too exasperated to even respond, I tugged down the hem of my sweater, hunched my shoulders, and shoved my hands into my pockets. The mountain winds were brutal down here at the base, so I tried to stay in the shadows of buildings to escape the cold.

“I bought a hot pack at the convenience store. I'll lend it to you.”

Maybe she meant it in place of giving me her coat. Michiru patted the warm pack against the nape of my neck. I thought about declining—didn't want her to be cold—but the thought of her getting sad over that was even worse, so I gratefully accepted.

“Thanks.”

We walked for a while and eventually reached a hill on the outskirts of town. At the end of the winding, snake-like path stood a white-brick building with a pointed blue roof. At the top was a sacred cross. That had to be the church where Michiru had grown up.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm okay.”

“Not scared?”

“No, not scared.”

…Liar.

Your knees are shaking like crazy.

“Well then, let's go.”

“Okay.”

After confirming with her, I patted Michiru on the head and rang the church bell. A girl came out to greet us, dressed in a nun's habit and about the same age as us.

“Who are you?”

“I'm Takatsuki Shinji. This is Tsukino Michiru.”

“…Michiru?”

I wasn't so dull as to miss the meaning behind that reaction. She clearly knew the Michiru of the past. In fact, they must've been pretty close. That slight jolt of recognition meant they'd shared a deep bond.

In other words, her identity was—

“Chisato…-chan?”

The goddess of fate doesn't allow convenient salvation. Being saved somewhere you don't even know about—that kind of narrative just won't fly.

The place Michiru had abandoned was still shrouded in darkness. The nun's eyes, as she looked at Michiru, burned with envy and resentment. They told a painful story of ongoing ruin—of someone raised in the same place, unable to accept her, screaming why only you.

This was a den of devils. A twisted hell where grotesque and rotten customs clung to the women like white serpents, binding them and never letting go. A place where ignorance is never corrected, sloth never punished, and where sweet poison pools at the bottom of the cauldron, impossible to escape once you've fallen in.

In short, a harem. That despicable, loathsome dynamic of one man and many women that I utterly hate and despise.

…And so, I quietly stepped in front of Michiru.

Surely, this was where it would all be decided. Somehow, I just knew.

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