"Oh, Ken-san, what brings you out this early? You finally get canned from your job?"
"As if. Nothing runs without me, you know that? I was working so hard I'd practically be stealing everyone else's jobs, so I figured I'd blow off some steam and give everybody else a boost of motivation."
The owner of the neighborhood bakery pedaled up on his bicycle and called out to Kenichi in a friendly tone, only for Kenichi to flip him off and fire back with some cheek. They carried on their vulgar banter for a while longer before waving goodbye and parting ways.
"Geez, everyone keeps ribbing me about losing my job just because they catch me on my day off. I've got a family to support — there's no way I'd mess up like that. And even if I did do something that could get me fired, I'd at least be smart enough not to get caught. Heh heh."
"As someone living under your roof, I sincerely pray you'd refrain from resorting to such measures long before it comes down to getting caught or not."
Subaru had his hands stuffed in his tracksuit pockets, leaning against the side of the road waiting for the conversation to end. He shrugged his shoulders. His son had been standing in the shade, letting the morning breeze wash over him, when Kenichi waved both hands and shook his head.
"Forgetting your sense of adventure means no growth as a man or a person, you know? If you're doing bad stuff, that's another story, but finding where that line is... that's the fun part."
"You're way past the age where that's just a joke, so calm down already. You're over forty — stop acting like a kid."
"I think men always keep a little piece of kid inside them, even when they grow up. But anyway, the reason I'm stuck having this dumb conversation is because you won't join in, even though it's the kind of stuff you'd normally be talking about with me. So what do you think about that?"
"I don't think anything about it. I can't exactly have a cozy chat with some random old guy."
"He's not some random guy. He's the owner of the place I sometimes stop by to pick up bread on my way home. And for the record, he was one year below me in high school."
Even so, Subaru couldn't picture him at all.
He'd never given the bread packaging a second glance, and he probably hadn't set foot in that shop himself.
When Subaru wordlessly signaled that he wanted to end this conversation, Kenichi clicked his tongue. "Guess there's no helping it."
"On a gorgeous, sunny morning like this, moping around like a killjoy is disrespectful to the sun, you know. You've got 'stop me for questioning' written all over your face."
"If anyone's getting stopped for questioning, it's your fault for dragging me out here against my will when I said I didn't want to come..."
"You were practically compliant the whole time despite that little show of resistance. You love your old man deep down, don't you, Subaru? Don't worry — I love you too. Second to your mom, though!"
Kenichi started walking again, grinning happily as he gave Subaru a rough slap on the back. Wincing at the impact, Subaru felt something off about his father's high spirits.
No, normally Kenichi was always like this — upbeat and full of energy — but he was the type whose mood could shift easily, and after the kind of exchange they'd just had, he should have been sulking for much longer.
Yet here he was, somehow looking more carefree than usual this morning.
The contrast was stark compared to Subaru, whose chest ached so badly it felt like it might collapse just from walking side by side like this.
"So..."
"Hm?"
"So, you must've had something to talk about, right? That's why you dragged me out. You wouldn't normally go this far... What is it? Something that's hard to say inside the house?"
The implication was clear — a conversation he didn't want Mom to overhear. Subaru pressed the question.
He had a vague, unpleasant premonition about what was coming. Probably some lecture about his current listless state. On a normal day, he could pull the covers over his head and tune it out, but out here, that wasn't an option. He could always shout loudly and drown it out — make enough of a scene that even Kenichi would rethink his approach.
But then he stopped that train of thought.
"My old man is the type who'd find even that humiliation entertaining..."
"I don't know what crazy thing you're imagining, but I don't have some crazy story like that. I just felt like having one of those everyday family chats under the sun for once."
"Yeah, right. I don't buy that for a second. ...Fine, I'll nod along."
"That's the spirit. Hey, Subaru — which would you rather have, a little brother or a little sister?"
"Getting asked that question at seventeen is terrifying and nothing else!"
The abrupt topic change blindsided him, and Subaru shouted in alarm. As he heaved his shoulders and caught his breath, Kenichi flashed his teeth in a grin. "Joke, joke."
"Sure, your mom and I are still lovey-dovey, but we're not having another kid at this point. In other words, our love is all yours. Rejoice."
"Ah, yeah, yeah, wonderful, wonderful. ...That really was a joke, right?"
"Hey, come on, don't be like that. If you reject the idea like that, it only makes me more eager to do it just to get a reaction!"
The possibility that this might not actually be a joke was now very real, so Subaru ended the conversation with an unblinking stare. Kenichi gave a wry smile and took the hint.
— Subaru was walking with his father along a promenade just ten minutes from home.
The neighborhood sat along a famous river, with cherry trees planted along the embankment — a popular springtime spot. However, the season had already passed, and instead of pink blossoms, lush green leaves now bathed in the sunlight.
After finishing breakfast and spending the remaining time until school wracked with guilt and anxiety, Subaru had been coaxed outside by Kenichi, who brought him here.
At first, when they left the house, Subaru feared he was being taken to school.
"If I'd started walking toward the school, your guard would've gone up with a clang. That's not the point, so let's take a detour to the embankment."
Reading his unease, Kenichi had pulled him along until they arrived at the riverbank.
A strong wind carrying the scent of grass and earth blew across the top of the embankment. A slight lean forward would reveal the river flowing gently beyond a dividing fence.
"Back in the day, there wasn't any of this fencing. Me and my buddies used to come play in the water all the time. Hey, you remember Ikeda? One typhoon day, the current was insane and we came to watch, and he got swept away... If some old lifeguard hadn't happened to walk by, he'd have drowned for sure."
"Don't tell me this fence exists because of you and that Ikeda guy..."
"Well, no, that'd be... Wait. Actually, the timing does kind of line up."
Leaning against the railing and gazing at the river, Kenichi tilted his head as he revisited the memory. Behind his father, Subaru stood idly looking around.
On a weekday morning, as expected, there was nobody around. More precisely, there wasn't a soul besides Subaru and Kenichi. It had always been a spot difficult to reach on foot — anyone here at this hour would be either a caretaker or an eccentric.
As Subaru was forming these thoughts, he heard the sound of footsteps crushing grass, and then— "Oh? If it isn't Ken-boy! What brings you here at this hour? Don't tell me you're here to play in the river again at your age."
"Who's calling me... The caretaker's still you? Now that'd be the real surprise. Anyway, I'm not wearing trunks today, so I'm not getting in the river."
"Don't kid yourself. You'd be screaming that trunks look just like swim shorts while diving in buck naked. But it has been a while, hasn't it?"
Climbing up the embankment was a short, elderly man with a warm, grandfatherly demeanor, dressed in a well-worn green uniform. From the conversation and the logo on his back, he was apparently the embankment's caretaker.
And the fact that he knew Kenichi from his swimming days made him quite the veteran.
The two men who hadn't seen each other in ages shared a laugh. The old man clapped his hands.
"That's right — if you're here, what happened to Ikeda? That kid got swept away so often that I pulled him out with my net more times than I could count."
"That guy? Won a huge horse racing jackpot about ten years ago, struck it rich, and flew off to Thailand. Nobody's heard from him since. Though he does send New Year's cards, summer greetings, winter greetings, and letters on Obon, Christmas, Father's Day, and Mother's Day."
"Someone who sends letters that often isn't what I'd call missing in action..."
Subaru couldn't help muttering under his breath. The old man heard the quiet remark and turned to look at him for the first time, raising his eyebrows as though noticing his existence.
"Oh, you've got company... Hmm? Could this kid be—"
"Yeah, my son. Well, I should say my beloved son."
"Oh, so it really is! You can sort of see the resemblance to you when you were young... Actually, not so much. He doesn't really take after you. More like the mother... does he?"
"Ha ha. I get that a lot. The eyes, especially."
Among Subaru's otherwise unremarkable features, his three-sided white eyes stood out sharply. His mother's piercing gaze was strong in him too, so this particular trait bore her influence clearly.
The old man approached Subaru.
"Is that right, is that right. What a surprise. Ken-boy has a kid this big now — time really does fly. At this rate, I'm getting old too. I couldn't swim out and rescue Ikeda anymore even if I wanted to."
"I doubt Ikeda-san would still be drowning in rivers at his age either, though."
"You'd hope so... But those two were never the type to settle down. Especially your father — he was always causing a ruckus somewhere. You'd notice just walking around town."
"...Yes, well."
Subaru's noncommittal reply earned a slightly puzzled look from the old man. But the furrow between his brows deepened further a moment later.
"Hmm? A kid of Ken-boy's is fine, but... if I remember right, today's Monday, isn't it? Why are you here with your father on the embankment at this hour?"
"—!"
Hit by exactly the question he didn't want to be asked, Subaru's expression stiffened in pain.
Then came the piercing headache — the same stabbing kind he felt even in his room. He nearly clutched his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "Excuse me," he said in a strained voice, then turned his back on the old man and fled.
"Hey, wait — Subaru! Sorry about that, old man. I'll swing by properly next time and we'll catch up then."
"A-Ah... I think I said something I shouldn't have. Apologize to him for me, will you?"
The exchange behind him didn't register.
Desperate to escape the grinding pain in his skull, Subaru sought a place where his pounding heart might quiet down and ran off the embankment.
Kenichi chased after him.
"No need for apologies. ...The rest is his problem now."
He whispered softly to himself, just loud enough for his own ears.
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ "Here. A cold, delicious cola filled with love. I shook it up good to make it taste extra— but you've got that look, so never mind."
"There's no point on that vending machine where love is being injected anywhere. Thanks, though."
Subaru took the can, feeling its coldness against his palm, and hooked his finger under the tab. He paused, as though considering something, then shut his eyes, aimed the can's opening in a direction where no one stood, and pulled — the moment the seal broke, the contents erupted with tremendous force. In an instant, the weight of the can in Subaru's hand dropped by roughly a third.
"Hey, what gives? You totally tricked me! I thought the two-layered approach was 'say you won't do it, then actually do it'!"
"I know your patterns, Dad. How many years do you think we've been close? There's a certain trust that says you'd never leave it undone. Ugh, my hands are all sticky."
Subaru shook off the cola coating his hands, then tilted the now-lighter can and took a sip. The sharp fizz of carbonation passed through his mouth, and the dry, parched interior finally felt some relief.
If only the foul feeling that had been rising from deep in his chest could wash away just as easily. Unfortunately, that heavy lump remained exactly where it was.
"So, feeling better?"
"...Barely."
Answering the question, Subaru sank deeper into the bench seat, let out a long sigh, and slumped his shoulders. Kenichi stood in front of him, sipping his own cola, one eye closed as though lost in thought.
After fleeing the embankment, Subaru and his father had visited a nearby children's park. Naturally, there was nobody here either — no fathers on summer vacation pushing swings.
"Though, to be honest, if I were swinging on those swings right now, I probably wouldn't even be able to laugh at you. So what'll it be, Subaru? If you caught your old man swinging on the way back from the convenience store?"
"First I'd take a picture with my phone and post it to Twitter. The tweet would say: 'My dad has been freed from gravity as we speak.'"
"Ah, Twitter. I'm on it too. I follow and get followed by so many people that the screen's basically a mess."
Glancing at his father talking excitedly, Subaru exhaled a weary sigh and searched for a topic. Anything — anything to steer the conversation away from what they'd been discussing at the embankment— The grinding came back.
The intervals between headaches were growing shorter. Fear prickled at Subaru, but he crushed it with stubborn willpower and ignored the pain.
"We were only buying drinks from a vending machine, but that took forever. Anything happen?"
"Hm? Nothing big. There was a high school girl skipping class in front of the machine. I lectured her, bought her a drink, got her email address, and sent her on her way."
"You got her email address in that short a time? I can't believe you."
The fact that Kenichi had obtained a high school girl's email address in the time it took Subaru to use the restroom was almost beyond words. Kenichi tilted his head. "Really?"
"She gave it up pretty quick. My phone's contact list has close to three digits' worth of high school girls' addresses."
"Mine doesn't even hit two digits total. Three digits from high school girls alone is literally on a different level. ...You're not doing anything sketchy with high school girls that'd end up in the papers, are you?"
"What kind of thing is that to say?"
Kenichi raised both hands at Subaru's concern, gave an exasperated shrug.
"I'm not getting any weird feelings toward some kid. The target of my love was decided long ago. I don't lust after anyone outside my family."
"Your categories include me by that logic!"
"Well... I do love you, so there's maybe a tiny chance?"
"There is not! If anyone's talking nonsense, it's you!"
Subaru's shout sent Kenichi into fits of laughter again.
That lingering laugh — crude, yet somehow never off-putting. No, that was true of everything Kenichi did.
Every action he took bordered on abnormal, over-the-top, excessive in every way — the kind of behavior that should make people uncomfortable. Yet somehow, everyone received him warmly.
Having walked with his father for the first time in a long while today, Subaru realized it firsthand.
Kenichi had been approached by strangers no fewer than five times just while walking along the road. And everywhere they went, Kenichi had someone to share memories with, casually deepening rapport even with people he'd just met. He made no effort to hide any of it.
A throbbing pain pulsed at Subaru's temples, and his breathing gradually grew ragged.
The intervals between the sharp headaches were no longer merely narrowing — they had become intermittent.
The stabbing sensation inside his skull wouldn't be solved by leaving it alone, and going to a hospital wouldn't fix it either.
He didn't know why it hurt, but he thought he knew what caused it.
And it came from the same place as the emotions compressing his chest and the suffocating feeling.
"You look like you're feeling rough, Subaru. If it's that bad, I'll carry you on my back and we can head home?"
"I don't need carrying, and I don't want to go back. ...Even if I go back, it'll be the same."
In fact, with his mother Natsuki home, Subaru's condition would only worsen.
He was beginning to understand when this pain intensified — what he thought about, what he tried to do. If his imagination was right, then returning home with Kenichi to face Natsuki would push the pain to its absolute limit. In other words— "Am I finally getting a lecture from my own body?"
Was this his body finally screaming because of the guilt of running away?
The horror of sitting in his room, hugging his knees, staring at the second hand on a clock. The unrelenting restlessness and the sudden stabbing headache that came despite surviving it.
As though from inside his skull, someone was shouting something at him, demanding something.
—I don't know who you are, but what could you possibly know about me?
"Hey, Subaru. ...Got a girl you like?"
The sudden question broke Subaru's silence.
The same inquiry he'd heard even in his room — the start of an exchange he'd endured once before with a wry smile. The second time around, for some reason, it set his nerves on edge.
His head pounding nonstop, he was about to reply with the same ill-humored retort— *—Subaru.* Suddenly, he had the illusion that a voice like a silver bell was calling to his heart from somewhere.
"—Huh?"
He looked up, searching for the source of the voice that seemed to have whispered right beside his ear. But scanning his surroundings, he found no one. The only other person in the park was Kenichi, standing in front of him.
Even Kenichi looked surprised, raising his eyebrows at Subaru's abrupt head movement.
"What's wrong? You've got a look on your face like some gorgeous girl just called your name out of nowhere."
"That's exactly what it looked like, and I can't even argue... Did someone just call my name? You're not secretly practicing how to sound like a beautiful girl, are you, Dad?"
"Your old man's got a few tricks up his sleeve, but that's not one of 'em. Tell you what — I'll practice before my next setup line, so ask me again in about a month."
"That wasn't a setup line... Seriously, what was that?"
Subaru turned his gaze away as his father's wisecracks drained the tension from the moment, replaying the voice in his mind. The silver-bell voice had been terribly gentle, yet carried a warmth that struck Subaru deep inside — enough to make him momentarily forget the intermittent headache.
He didn't know where this voice of salvation had come from — this goddess-like sound that eased his pain. The tension in Subaru's expression softened ever so slightly. Just as he quietly steadzed his breathing— "So, what about my earlier question? Got a girl?"
"What's your deal? What are you going to do with that information? Even if I did, you wouldn't know her if I said her name."
"That's exactly what you don't know. For all you know, I might have her email address in my phone."
"If the girl I like gave her address to my own dad, any affection I had would freeze over in a hundred years."
Subaru shot back flatly. Kenichi pouted. "What do you mean~" — a middle-aged man making faces that didn't suit him at all. Watching this, Subaru downed the rest of his cola in one gulp.
"You don't have to be so roundabout. Just ask straight. ...Why aren't you going to school — that's what you want to say, right?"
"Here I am making a rare effort to be considerate, and you're tone-deaf as always."
Kenichi smiled wryly at Subaru's words, then continued.
"That part is true — I do want to talk about it. So I'm not wrong about that."
"I know I should..."
"You don't need to. I'm vaguely aware you've thought about this, and I'm also the type to let some thoughtlessness slide."
Subaru deflected with a small excuse. Kenichi finished his own cola, then sat down on the bench beside him. The wooden seat creaked, and a breeze passed between them.
Neither looked at the other — both gazed in the same direction, keeping each other's faces out of sight.
"I don't know what society at large thinks, but I don't believe school is everything. Besides, if I start saying that, I'm a fine one to talk — I never took school seriously either. I skipped my high school graduation ceremony, and my little sister had to pick up my diploma for me later."
"I've heard that story a dozen times. The aunt two years below you went to the same school, so she grabbed your diploma at the same time. My ears have calluses."
"Well, while you're at it, learn to make calamari too. Anyway — if you don't want to go to school, you don't have to. Looking back now, I think it was a loss that I didn't take school more seriously. But that's probably something you can't understand yet."
There was a distant look in Kenichi's eyes. Catching that serious profile out of the corner of his vision, Subaru thought once again that this father of his was a coward.
He normally showed nothing but his ditzy side, so moments like this — when he'd set all that aside — were enough to make Subaru reconsider everything.
"Isn't it fine? People live about eighty years on average these days. Eighty years — you can afford to waste a year or two being lazy. You've got plenty of time to make mistakes while you're young. Besides, I'm doing all right financially."
Kenichi made a ring with his fingers and grinned.
Without so much as acknowledging Subaru's silence, he folded his arms and nodded a few times.
"Life's gonna throw you problems without easy answers. When I hit those, I kept moving until an answer came. But rolling around in your room until you find one works too. I won't nag while you're thinking. If you start giving up — well, that's when I'll probably say something."
"...Why?"
"Hm?"
"Why are you suddenly in the mood to talk about this? ...It's not like today is anything special. It's just Green Pea Day."
"There was a heaping plate, that's why."
The mouth that had just been rinsed with cola suddenly felt parched again.
Subaru waited, gasping slightly, for an answer to his question. Kenichi cocked his head thoughtfully.
"Why, huh? I just happened to have the day off. And this morning during my air squats, the thought just popped into me. The horoscope said Aquarius is in top form. And your expression this morning was..."
"My expression?"
"Your look, I mean. Your face is still the same — you've got your mother's eyes, and it makes you look like a villain."
Kenichi pulled the corners of his eyes up with both hands to demonstrate, then pointed those same fingers at Subaru.
"What I meant was — you didn't look like someone who'd just been holed up in a room doing nothing. Your mom said you didn't go out yesterday either, so you should've looked the same, but you didn't."
"...I was still holed up. I just sailed out onto the vast ocean of the internet."
"If that counts as growth, then the number of lost little girl sheep pouring their hearts out to me on Twitter would be going down instead of up..."
"You're doing that too...?"
Amazed at his father's reach, Subaru couldn't let Kenichi steer away from the point either.
But the truth was, Kenichi's assessment didn't click with Subaru at all.
In reality, just as his mother's testimony indicated, yesterday's Subaru had been no different — lazing around, wasting time, the same as every day before that.
He'd done nothing different, so the idea that his demeanor could suddenly change today— "That's either Dad's imagination, a misunderstanding, or you're just not looking at me properly."
"That last one stings! My phone wallpaper is still your adorable devilish little-kid grin, you know!"
"Drop the 'adorable' — the 'devilish' part at least tracks, considering I've had these eyes since I was little."
In any case, Kenichi's observation was clearly off the mark.
Yesterday was yesterday. Today was today. Subaru was spending his time unchanged.
He was fine with that — that was how he intended to keep it. If he kept this up, surely one day both Kenichi and Natsuki would understand.
— What Subaru truly wanted.
"—Guah!"
The instant the thought formed, a pain exploded across his field of vision as though sparks had scattered before his eyes.
The shock was so violent it felt as though someone had punched him for real. The grinding in his skull made it feel like his brain was about to fly out, his vision blurred, and Subaru's sitting body buckled.
His heartbeat turned into a rapid drumbeat once more, and the sound of blood rushing through his veins echoed clearly in his ears. His vision blurred, and the world doubled, then tripled.
Nausea surged up, and from deep in his chest, an unidentified source of heat asserted its presence.
Each assaulted Subaru in its own way, each screaming at him as though demanding something.
"Whoa, you look really bad. You sure you're okay, Subaru?"
Kenichi's face creased with worry as he placed a hand on Subaru's shoulder. Subaru managed to look up, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Yeah... I'm fine. Just a little dizzy..."
*—That must have been really tough.* "—?!"
Once again, the silver-bell voice trembled through Subaru's ears, and every hair on his body stood on end.
A voice filled with affection, brimming with compassion. A voice that melted away his tension — it intervened directly in his suffering, and the pain, the grinding, the heat all weakened their screams at once.
What was this voice? Why did it chase away the pain and torment?
He felt he knew this voice. He had been seeking it all along. Yearning and yearning, chasing and chasing, clinging to it, letting it go, yet grasping it back again— *Thank you, Subaru.* "You are..."
Silver hair dancing in the wind was seared into the back of his eyelids. Amethyst eyes gazed straight at Subaru, and every note that flowed from those lips brimmed with love.
*For saving me.* What, what, what, what — what is this?
Who, who, who, who — who is she, who, who, who?
—Was this girl the source of his suffering? Was all of this pain, this misery, this nausea — because of her?
*—Subaru.* His breath caught. His throat burned. Something pooled behind his eyes.
*It can't be helped, you know.* His fingertips trembled. His legs went weak. His throat constricted as though his lungs were seizing.
*Subaru, you're always trying to push it all away...* Trembling hands covered his face, a choked sob caught in his tightening throat, and the heat swelling in his eyes spilled over — Subaru— *Why did you save me?* —The answer was already inside him.
The moment he found it, every discomfort that had been swirling through him vanished.
The grinding in his skull, the rising nausea, the dizziness that blurred the world, the heart hammering as though demanding a choice — everything converged, as though guiding
He raised his head and wiped the tears threatening to spill with his sleeve.
Staring at the wet fabric, he turned his wrist and clenched his fist, as though shaking off the last traces of tears. And then— "Sorry for worrying you. I'm fine now."
"You sure? I'm glad you're feeling better, but don't scare me like that."
"Yeah, sorry. Also — about that question earlier."
Subaru removed his father's hand from his shoulder and turned to face him.
Sitting side by side on the bench, Subaru looked up at his father's face. Now that he thought about it, they'd spoken so many times today, and yet he hadn't once looked at his father's face directly like this.
The realization that even in this he'd been running away made Subaru smile bitterly at his own weakness. Then, facing his father's questioning look, Subaru said: —I found someone I like. So I'm all right now.
Tracing the silver image seared into his eyelids, Natsuki Subaru steeled his resolve to confront the past.