Bitterness of Youth: Part 10

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He returned to the facility on the morning of the sixth day after running away to the abandoned factory. When Ishimoto found him at the entrance, she tumbled out from the reception desk, exclaiming, "Akira-kun!"

"Where on earth have you been? Everyone was worried sick!"

Seeing her face, on the verge of tears, made his chest ache, even though he hadn’t thought of Ishimoto’s face even once during the past six days.

“Akira!”

Tokura also rushed over. Akira braced himself, certain he was about to be yelled at, but her face didn’t show anger... she wasn’t angry.

“I’m sorry for staying out without permission.”

Akira bowed his head.

“An apology isn’t enough! Do you have any idea how worried the director, the staff, and everyone at the facility were? They searched everywhere for you!!”

It was as if a switch had been flipped, and Tokura started yelling at him.

“I’m sorry.”

He bowed deeply again. When he looked up, Tokura was mumbling to herself, seemingly holding back the words she really wanted to say.

“I’ve been resting for a while... so I’d like to go to school today.”

When he said that, they didn’t try to stop him. Since he returned after the other kids had already gone to school, only the younger children were left, and no one made a fuss, asking where he had been or what he had done.

After changing into his uniform and heading to the entrance, Ishimoto came out and made sure to confirm, “You’re coming back today, right?”

“I’ll come back.”

Ishimoto clasped and unclasped her fingers repeatedly.

“Please, make sure to come back. The director was really worried. He had to leave early today for a meeting, but when I texted him, he said he felt so relieved.”

Just the thought of Isahaya made Akira’s chest feel cold inside.

“I’m off.”

He stepped outside and began walking along the school route. The scenery that was always the same somehow looked fresh today. He had missed three days of school, but no classmates approached him, asking, “Where were you?”

He sat in his chair and habitually stuck his earphones in. While listening to the English conversation coming through, he glanced around at the classroom, unchanged whether he was there or not. He was probably just one bead among many. There were so many beads that no one would notice if one fell off. So, even if he were to die, nothing would change. Maybe that’s what living in this world really meant.

When he got back from school, he saw Tokura in the staff room. As usual, he greeted her with “I’m home,” and a voice responded from behind him, “Welcome back,” making him jump.

Isahaya was standing there, smiling with the setting sun behind him. That smile felt eerie, like a mask.

“Come to the director’s office after dinner.”

Isahaya gave Akira’s shoulder a pat and walked into the facility without waiting for a response, as if he was certain Akira would come.

Akira went to his room and changed his clothes, wondering what the conversation would be about. He’d probably be asked where he had been and with whom during the time he was gone.

He thought so much about it that he barely touched his dinner. He gave his side dish to the kid sitting next to him and returned to his room. Then, he found he didn’t want to see Isahaya’s face. He hadn’t been told what time to come, so he wasted time doing homework, but that didn’t help settle his mind.

Eventually, he left his room and arrived at the director’s office. His right hand trembled slightly as he knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Inside, the red-hot oil heater made the room warm... and the window was closed.

“Take a seat for now.”

He was told to sit, but he immediately felt like leaving the room, or maybe crying. The enclosed space with just the two of them was suffocating.

“I’m glad you came back. Everyone was really worried.”

To avoid meeting Isahaya’s gaze, Akira stared intently at his own fingers, clasped together on his lap.

“Where were you during those five days?”

He pressed his lips tightly together.

“Were you at a friend’s house?”

He didn’t respond.

“I was concerned that you might have been a burden to someone else.”

His ears flushed with embarrassment.

“If you stayed at someone’s house, I think it would be best for me to thank them properly.”

“I was in the park…”

He lied.

“In the park? In that cold?”

He didn’t want any connection between Isahaya and that man. No way.

“I was so cold I thought I’d die, so I came back.”

Another lie. From across the table, Isahaya chuckled, and just that made Akira want to die for no reason at all.

“Akira, is something bothering you?”

It’s your fault! You, you, you... he repeated over and over in his mind.

“Is it something you can’t talk to me about?”

Yesterday, that man had said: “People lie because they’re weak. So forgive them.” But in this situation, Akira didn’t know how to organize his feelings in front of Isahaya.

“I’m not in a hurry. If you ever feel like talking, just come to me. I think of myself as your father, after all.”

A father who steals money. His gentle tone echoed emptily, sounding completely hollow.

“I don’t mind about you staying out without permission. Tokura told me to ‘make sure to scold you properly,’ but I believe you understand the consequences.”

What does this man think he understands about me?

“By the way, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. What are your plans for the future? Are you thinking of continuing your studies or getting a job?”

Still staring down, Akira answered, “I plan to continue studying.”

“So you’re going to university, then.”

When he nodded, Isahaya replied matter-of-factly, “I figured as much.”

“Your grades are good. You might not be able to afford private school, but with a scholarship, you could attend a public university. Have you decided on a school yet?”

He didn’t want to tell this man anything. He didn’t want him to know anything about him.

“If you haven’t narrowed it down, you can let me know later when you’ve decided.”

I want to go to America. I want to study abroad. But if I say it, my dream will be crushed. Isahaya will shoot it down with a harsh dose of reality, saying there’s no money. He’ll never say, “That’s wonderful, it’s great to have dreams. I’ll support you.” Ah, but... if I already know he’ll say no, maybe it’s fine. If I prepare myself, I won’t get hurt. I want to see his reaction, not just imagine it, but actually see it in reality.

Akira lifted his head. Their eyes met, and Isahaya smiled. The same silver-framed glasses, the neatly parted hair—he hadn’t changed much since the first time they met.

“I want to study abroad.”

For just a moment, the expression of the man who had been waiting for his words with gentle eyes wavered. Before he could process it, the surprise was quickly masked by a more composed look.

“Where do you want to study abroad?”

His voice was slightly strained, just enough that you wouldn’t notice unless you were paying attention.

“America.”

Isahaya averted his gaze smoothly and sighed, a sigh meant to make the listener feel hopeless.

“That’s going to be difficult.”

“Why?”

“It’s financially impossible. Travel expenses, tuition fees for a university over there, and living costs... it all adds up to hundreds of thousands. Even in my day, it cost that much.”

What he was saying wasn’t wrong. His homeroom teacher had said something similar.

“I’m working part-time, saving money.”

Isahaya acknowledged him with a “Yes, that’s true.”

“You’re doing very well. But no matter how much you save, you’ll need a scholarship to attend university. And on top of that, planning to study abroad? That’s reckless.”

“Then I’ll work right after graduating from high school. I’ll save money and study abroad later.”

Isahaya crossed his arms and tilted his head.

“So, you plan to delay going to university? Do you think you can study for a foreign university while working? And what exactly do you want to study in America? Is it something you can only learn there?”

When Akira nodded, Isahaya pressed, “Specifically?” Akira didn’t want to say. He didn’t want any opinions about that part. Silence filled the room. The kettle on top of the oil heater whistled loudly as steam rushed out.

“Could it be... you’re thinking of going to meet Mr. Carlisle?”

It was the first time Isahaya had mentioned his name since Richard had expressed his desire to adopt Akira back when he was in third year of middle school.

“If that’s what you’re thinking, you should stop. After all, since he was refused guardianship, there’s been no contact from him.”

His tone and gaze were laced with concern, but Akira felt despair toward the man who lied so easily without revealing the lie. Perhaps he had been deceived like this all along.

“Richard is a very kind man, but he’s a stranger to you, only your mother’s ex-boyfriend. It’s been almost a year and a half since then. He could have a new partner by now, and I don’t think it would be appropriate for you to visit him.”

A storyteller twists things to suit their narrative. It was beyond ridiculous—Akira felt like crying.

“That’s enough.”

He didn’t want to hear any more of Isahaya’s lies. Yet, the foolish puppet stepped further into the act.

“No, let’s be clear here. I don’t think you’re the type to say things on a whim, so you must be serious about this. You visited America because of your mother’s situation and liked it there, didn’t you? It’s good to be interested. It’s wonderful. But think carefully about your circumstances. Dreaming isn’t wrong, but sometimes you have to evaluate whether it’s achievable. I know you’ve been through tough times, growing up without enough parental love, but—”

...Maybe this man doesn’t even think I’m pitiful for not having parents. That’s fine. It can’t be helped if he doesn’t. But if that’s the case, why does he pretend to be kind?

“Please give me Richard’s contact information.”

He knew Isahaya wouldn’t give it to him. Still, he wanted to see his reaction.

“No, I can’t.”

The liar shook his head.

“What do you plan to do if you contact him? Ask him to cover the costs for your study abroad? He might say yes. He knows you’re a child who’s been through a lot. But as the director of this facility, I can’t allow that. It would place an unnecessary burden on someone unrelated to you.”

In front of him, a ventriloquist’s dummy was speaking. Hollow words rattled around inside. The puppet’s heart was a dark void, revealing nothing.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

There was no response when he pressed the doorbell. Even after ringing it twice, there was no answer. Just as he was about to leave, the door swung open to a disgruntled voice saying, "Who is it, so early in the morning?"

Yukina, rubbing her eyelids, appeared in a purple slip with a cardigan over it. Perhaps she had slept with her makeup on, as half of her right eyebrow was missing.

“Oh, Akira. Just come in already.”

As Yukina was about to retreat inside, Akira asked, “Is Ingrid here?”

“She went to the convenience store. She ran out of nail polish remover. My sister’s always so diligent, even in the morning.”

Yukina yawned widely.

“When Ingrid gets back, tell her 'thank you' for me.”

As Akira turned to leave, Yukina suddenly rushed out in her slippers, calling, “Wait, wait, wait!”

“Akira, are you leaving today?”

When he nodded, she grabbed his shirt sleeve, saying, “You could wait a little.”

“I don’t have time.”

“And do you realize how much my sister has done for you, how much money she’s made for you and taken care of you!”

“Thank you too, Yukina.”

He shook off her hand and hurried down the stairs. When he glanced back, Yukina was leaning out over the railing of the apartment’s external corridor, yelling in a booming voice, "You ungrateful jerk!"

He had submitted his application to an American university in November. By the end of February, the acceptance letter had arrived. With the money he saved from his part-time jobs, he paid the deposit, and the admission letter was sent to his high school. Now he could attend a mortuary science university in California starting in the fall. He planned to go to the U.S. in the spring and attend a language school to improve his English before the university started.

He hadn’t consulted anyone at the facility about studying abroad. If he had told someone, it would have reached Isahaya’s ears immediately, and he didn’t want to be hassled or obstructed. He arranged for all the paperwork to be sent to his school. One of the teachers, who had experience sending students abroad, gave him a lot of helpful advice. He wasn’t the only one; five other students from his high school were also planning to study abroad.

Living in a facility, his teacher was worried about whether Akira would have enough money to live abroad. But when Akira mentioned that he had someone who could provide conditional support, the teacher seemed reassured and stopped bringing up money.

Akira took the TOEFL and SAT exams, scored high enough to qualify for admission, and gathered all the necessary documents. The only thing he couldn’t prepare was proof of financial ability to pay the tuition. He borrowed Ingrid’s help to draft a written promise, swearing he wouldn’t be a burden.

Even as he made progress with his plans to study abroad, he couldn’t shake the anxiety that everything would somehow fall apart—like an Othello game where one move flips everything. But nothing happened. He attended several meetings with the teachers, but he didn’t inform the facility staff. When he told his homeroom teacher that the staff were too busy, no one pushed further. Only once did he have Yukina pretend to be his cousin from his mother’s side, dressed as a man. Since they didn’t check IDs for verification, the ruse worked.

That year, four kids, including Akira, were set to leave the facility, either for university or work. One of the kids, who was supposed to get a job after graduating from middle school, saw their prospective employer go bankrupt, which caused a scramble to find a new job. This chaos meant that no one paid much attention to Akira, who had no problems.

As a backup, Akira also prepared for the entrance exams for Japanese universities. Although he didn’t actually take them after receiving approval to study abroad, he still went out on the exam days. When he returned, he told the staff, “I passed,” and they believed him without asking to see the proof. When the staff asked how he planned to get a guarantor for university admission and scholarships, Akira told them he was relying on another staff member or Isahaya. After that, no one questioned him anymore, assuming someone had taken care of it.

A familiar hum echoed from across the street.

“Oh my, isn’t it Curly-chan?”

Ingrid, wearing a white hoodie over a pink tracksuit, approached, swinging a small plastic bag from what was likely his trip to the convenience store.

“What are you doing here at this time?”

Ingrid tilted his head in curiosity.

“Did you come to our place? Yukina was home, wasn’t she?”

“She was.”

Akira nodded, then looked at him.

“I’m leaving today.”

After a moment of realization, Ingrid gasped, covering his mouth with both hands. “You’re kidding, right?”

“You never said anything.”

“I’m telling you now.”

Ingrid started pacing around like a lost dog, clearly distressed.

“You can’t just spring this on us! Yukina and I were planning to take you out for a nice meal before you left.”

“I don’t need that.”

Ingrid’s face twisted in anger as he pouted.

“Kids these days have no sense of obligation. Or are you special, curly-chan”

Akira didn’t understand those kinds of things, so he stayed silent, and Ingrid sighed in resignation. Feeling awkward under her gaze, Akira looked down, noticing a yellow dandelion blooming by the sidewalk.

“I was originally going to leave without saying anything. It would’ve been easier that way.”

“You’re a weird one, curly-chan. You’ve always been that way. Well, whatever. At least send us a letter when you get there”

“I won’t.”

Akira took a step back, sensing he was about to be hit, and sure enough, Ingrid’s hand swung wide, grazing his bangs.

“I don’t want to write... because if you didn’t reply, it would hurt.”

"Then I’ll just send you letters whether you like it or not," Ingrid shouted.

“I have to go.”

As Akira turned to leave, Ingrid walked beside him.

“...At least let me talk with you a bit. We can walk and talk, right?”

Even though Ingrid had said they should talk, she didn’t say anything as they walked side by side. A soft breeze blew gently past them.

The part-time job Ingrid had introduced to him—the no-face nude modeling gig—had paid extremely well. Without it, studying abroad wouldn’t have been possible. Despite being grateful, he had always been scared. What if there was some hidden agenda? What if one day, he realized what that was? But today, he felt lighter. If they parted ways here and never met again, Ingrid would remain perfect in his mind. He’d become the ideal adult—complete and flawless.

“Are you coming back to Japan?”

The question popped out quietly.

“I don’t know.”

Ingrid responded with a nonchalant “Hmm.”

“If you do come back, let us know.”

“I won’t. But I’d like to watch from afar, to see what you and Yukina are up to.”

Ingrid stopped walking. Akira instinctively stopped too.

"Hey, curly-chan. When you come back, I’ll be here to hug you and say, ‘Welcome home.’ anytime"

That reminded Akira of something. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket.

“Here.”

When he handed it over, Ingrid opened it and asked, “What’s this?”

“It’s the admission letter for the university over there. I realized I hadn’t shown it to anyone yet.”

After neatly folding the paper back up, Ingrid handed it to Akira, tears forming in his eyes as he muttered, “Curly-chan, why are you such a fool?”

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Clothes he didn’t wear and daily necessities were given to the younger children and the staff. After throwing away unwanted items, everything Akira owned fit into a single suitcase that Richard had bought for him years ago.

His flight was at 4 p.m., so he decided to leave the facility right after lunch.

“Thank you for everything up until now,” Akira said, bowing to the staff who believed he was going to a local national university and to the children who had come to see him off.

“Make sure to contact us when you get there,” Ishimoto said, her eyes filled with tears. Tokura had told him to leave his address, but Akira brushed it off by saying he wasn’t sure about the location of the dorm yet and would contact them later.

There was no sign of Isahaya at the farewell. The day before, Isahaya had simply remarked, “So, you’re leaving tomorrow.” As Akira walked through the garden, thinking that was the last conversation they would ever have, he heard a voice that startled him.

“Akira.”

“I have some errands, so I’ll drive you to the station. Your luggage must be heavy.”

Akira tried to say, “It’s fine,” but before he could, Tokura patted him on the shoulder, saying, “This is great, Akira!” It became difficult to refuse. With no other choice, he got into the van with the facility’s logo printed on the side. The station was a 30-minute walk, but by car, it would take less than 10 minutes.

“I’m glad you were able to leave here and move on to university safely,” Isahaya said from the driver’s seat, sounding genuinely pleased.

“I think it was back in your first year of high school. You went missing for several days without permission. I was really worried about you then. I thought maybe it was just a rebellious phase, but after that, you never caused any more trouble. It’s just... you stopped talking to me as much, and that made me feel a bit lonely.”

So, that’s how Isahaya interpreted it—as a typical rebellious phase. Akira realized that his behavior had been dismissed as just that in Isahaya’s mind.

“You’ve always been a reliable kid. But living on your own for the first time can be tough. If you ever feel lonely or face difficulties, don’t hesitate to reach out. The facility is still your home.”

A soft jolt as the car stopped at a red light. Akira knew he would never return to the facility. He wouldn’t contact anyone, and he wouldn’t see Isahaya again. By cutting ties, he could distance himself from the fact that Richard’s money had never reached him and the gift he received had been sold off like trash at a flea market. Perhaps Isahaya was relieved that Akira was leaving and wouldn’t return, more than Akira even realized. That way, no one would ever find out about Isahaya’s lies.

“You really were a good kid.”

Perhaps because it was the last time, Isahaya didn’t hold back the praise. The words flowed out like the scenery outside the window. After what felt like both a short and long drive, they arrived at the station. As Akira unloaded his suitcase, Isahaya stepped out of the car and handed him a paper bag.

“Take this with you.”

As Akira accepted the bag, he felt its weight in his hands.

“What is this…?”

Just as Isahaya started to say something, an irritating car horn blared. Looking back, Akira saw an SUV behind Isahaya’s van, honking again, impatiently urging them to move.

“Everything feels rushed at the end, doesn’t it? Well, Akira, take care of yourself.”

With a smile, Isahaya gently patted Akira’s shoulder, then got back into the car. He waved a small farewell at Akira, who stood there dumbfounded, and then, hurried by the SUV, the van drove off.

Akira’s hands began to tremble with the possibility. Could the contents of this bag be... the money Richard had been sending for him all this time? Perhaps Isahaya had been planning to apologize, to confess: “The facility was short on funds, so I had to borrow from the money meant for you. But now, I’m giving it all back. I’m truly sorry.”

His heartbeat pounded in his ears. What if that was true? What should he do then? His throat suddenly felt dry, and his head started to spin.

“Calm down, calm down.”

He told himself to focus on what needed to be done. He bought his ticket and entered the subway station. There were still about five minutes before the train arrived. Sitting on a bench, he exhaled deeply. His heart was still racing, and it wouldn’t settle until he confirmed the truth.

Bracing himself, Akira slowly peeked into the paper bag. Inside was another smaller, light brown paper bag. He carefully opened it.

The moment he saw the contents, his shoulders relaxed, and a laugh bubbled up. It was a clear plastic container filled with beautifully colored rice balls. Probably handmade by one of the staff.

Setting the bag aside, Akira sat there, waiting for the train in a daze. His eyes began to burn, and he looked down. Tears splattered onto the dry concrete. Thinking logically, it couldn’t have been the money. And Isahaya wouldn’t have given it to him without any explanation. Yet... Akira had wanted to believe in Isahaya’s conscience. He had wanted so badly to believe.

He had always wanted an apology. If Isahaya had just said he was sorry, Akira would have forgiven him. The money didn’t matter anymore. Just a simple “I’m sorry”—that would have been enough.

He lifted his head. Should he go after him? He could leave the station, catch a taxi, and chase down Isahaya. He could tell him that he knew about Richard’s support, knew about the gifts that had been stolen, but that it didn’t matter anymore. He’d forgive everything if Isahaya would just apologize.

As he was about to stand, the train pulled into the station. The roaring sound cooled his overheated thoughts in an instant. He picked up his suitcase and boarded the train. The seats were almost empty, likely due to the odd time of day.

The train jolted once, then began to move. The California sky he was heading toward was still far, far away. Akira hugged his suitcase tightly against his body.

Now, the only things left that wouldn’t hurt him were death and the future.

＊ ＊ ＊

The embalming procedure for Homare Isahaya took about three hours. Akira thought that seeing Isahaya's face again might stir up the complex, pent-up emotions from back then, but nothing came. As Ingrid had once told him, it no longer mattered. The past was the past, and somehow, he'd made peace with it without even realizing.

Perhaps due to his illness, Isahaya had grown more wrinkled, his cheeks sunken, making him look older than his actual age. There were no specific instructions from Koyanagi on the order sheet. In most cases like this, they simply wanted the body preserved until the funeral, nothing more. As long as the corpse didn't decay, there were no further requests.

Akira hesitated, but remembering the way Isahaya used to look, he injected some tissue builder into his hollow cheeks, careful not to give the impression of extreme frailty despite the weight loss. It subtly filled out his face, making him appear more at peace.

The procedure took an hour longer than planned. Just as he was about to move on to the next body, he received a message from the front desk saying that someone had arrived to collect Isahaya’s body. Akira hurriedly changed into his suit, raked his unruly hair into place with his fingers, and headed to the waiting room.

Who would come to pick up the body? During Akira's time there, Isahaya had been unmarried. Did he eventually get married? If it were a staff member, it might be someone he recognized. But waiting in the room was a man in his mid-twenties whom Akira did not know.

“Huh?”

The man looked at Akira's face and exclaimed in surprise. Matsumura from the office should have informed the client about the change in embalmers from Koyanagi to Akira. Perhaps the message hadn’t gotten through. It wasn’t the time to ask a likely grieving relative, "Didn't they tell you about the change of embalmer?

“Nice to meet you. My name is Takatsuka. I’ve taken over Isahaya-sama’s care from Koyanagi,” Akira introduced himself.

The man stared intently at Akira’s face. Though it happened less frequently now, Akira still occasionally heard, “You look like Hanae Tamura.” Maybe this man was seeing the resemblance to Akira’s mother too.

“Are you Akira Takatsuka, by any chance?” The man slowly said Akira's full name, as if confirming it.

“Yes, that’s right,” Akira replied cautiously.

The man beamed. “Don’t you remember me? It’s Kaito… Kaito Yonekura from the facility.”

In an instant, the image of a skinny boy, sent to live with his grandmother in Kyushu, flashed through Akira’s mind. Now that he looked closer, the shape of Kaito’s nose and eyes bore faint traces of that boy.

“It’s really you, Kaito?”

“Yes! You haven’t changed much, Takatsuka-san. I recognized you right away. It’s such a coincidence. I’m working at a facility now.”

Kaito had struggled to connect with female staff back then due to the trauma of his abuse. There wasn’t a trace of that lonely boy left in the cheerful man standing before Akira now.

“While I was studying in Tokyo, my grandmother passed away, and since it was a hassle, I didn’t go back to the countryside. I got a job at the facility instead. Ishimoto-san often wondered where you went after you left. She’d sigh about how you never contacted anyone. But, well, some kids act like the facility never existed after they leave, so no one pried. Most of the staff has changed too, so Ishimoto-san is probably the only one left from back then.”

Ishimoto, the young, kind, beautiful woman. A wave of nostalgia washed over Akira.

“I never would’ve imagined you doing this kind of work, Takatsuka-san. Though, I always thought you were a bit different,” Kaito said, then hurriedly added, “I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

“To be honest, I don’t remember much from my time at the facility, but for some reason, you always stuck in my mind. Like when we went to the flea market together…”

The memories tugged at Akira, and he wanted to continue talking, but there wasn’t much time.

“Would you mind checking the body?” he asked.

“Oh, just load him into the car,” Kaito replied.

“You should take a look. If the appearance is off, it might upset the people who come to say goodbye. We can still make adjustments now.”

Kaito’s expression shifted, his face practically saying, "What a hassle."

“Didn’t you embalm him so the kids from the facility would have time to say their goodbyes? I honestly have no idea if the face I’ve prepared is what they would want.”

Kaito shrugged lightly, saying, “You’re impossible to argue with, Takatsuka-san.” When he looked into the coffin in the CDC room, Kaito let out a surprised, “Huh?”

“Weren’t his cheeks sunken? He was nothing but skin and bones, but now he looks... normal. I’d heard embalming could make someone look better, but this is impressive.”

Kaito stared at Isahaya’s body, but his gaze held no emotion—more like someone idly observing a rock on the ground than mourning the dead.

"Ms. Ishimoto insisted on having him embalmed. She wanted the children who had left the facility to be able to see the principal one last time. ...I don't get why anyone would bother coming all the way here for this person, though," Kaito said, his words sharp, yet his expression toward Akira was calm.

"Takatsuka-san, just because you handled this person for work, you don’t have to attend the funeral," Kaito continued.

After all, Kaito added, "You hated this person, didn’t you?"

Kaito's eyes seemed to prompt Akira, silently asking for confirmation. It was true that Akira had complicated feelings about Isahaya. The desire to be loved was tangled with hatred, like sludge piling up inside his chest. But that was all in the past.

"I owed this person. The same goes for you," Akira replied.

Kaito blinked a few times, then made a disappointed face, saying, "You’re still the model student, Takatsuka-san." In the end, there were no requests to make adjustments to Akira’s finished work.

Akira watched as the van carrying Isahaya drove away from the loading bay. The vehicle quickly vanished into the fine, lace-like rain, fading into a blur of white.

Though Kaito had said he didn’t need to attend, Akira decided he would go to the funeral. In any case, if Koyanagi couldn’t make it to work, Akira would have to do the touch-ups on the makeup himself.

Kaito’s attitude toward Isahaya was cold, and he made no effort to hide his negative feelings. It puzzled Akira. Kaito had been the one most attached to Isahaya at the facility. Hadn’t that attachment led Kaito to work there after all? Perhaps, after becoming a staff member, disagreements had arisen between them.

Looking at Kaito, Akira couldn’t help but see a reflection of his younger self—someone too young to control his emotions, who had felt no choice but to separate himself from Isahaya in disgust.

Digging up the emotions from those days was exhausting. But what about now? Unlike the time when he left Isahaya behind, he wasn’t overwhelmed with the excitement of learning and exploring new worlds, nor was he too busy to think of Japan. His days, spent quietly performing the job he had chosen, left plenty of space in his mind for unnecessary thoughts.

In the end, both ways of living had their merits and their drawbacks. Akira sighed softly, wondering if another ten years might pass in the blink of an eye.

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