“My father was right. In the end, the only thing someone ordinary like me could do was fulfill my role as a wife and mother.”
Yumi’s tone as she spoke was no longer one of sadness or resignation. Instead, she sounded detached—as if simply recounting facts.
“Yet I wanted more. I envied others. I couldn’t simply be a nice daughter or a cute little sister.”
A faint bitter regret seeped into Yumi’s voice as she spoke while looking at the photograph in Masachika’s hands.
“I couldn’t simply be a good wife or a good mother…and I ended up hurting you and everyone else because of it.”
However, her matter-of-fact tone remained throughout, revealing how that regret had corroded her over the years and clung to her like rust. Most likely, a day hadn’t gone by when she didn’t regret what she had done, and the repeated self-denial had eventually become an established fact within her until she was numb to any emotion. She was constantly tormented by guilt, yet the person she should ask forgiveness from was no longer by her side, leaving her no option but to continue blaming herself…
Yeah… I know how you feel.
To his surprise, Masachika found her emotional state painfully familiar, and now knowing the full story, he felt he had no right to judge her, either. How could I? Just as Yumi couldn’t bear to look directly at her gifted son, Masachika, too, couldn’t face his sister’s brilliant radiance. The only reason the relationship between Masachika and Yuki hadn’t fallen apart was entirely due to Yuki’s efforts.
If…
He wondered what would have happened if he had refused to give up on being a family with Yumi like Yuki had done with him. Even facing envy or rejection, he tried to imagine how things would have played out if he had told his mother that he loved her. If he had kept reaching out to her…things might have been different.
I don’t even need to think about it.
That was how Yuki was still able to maintain her mother-daughter relationship with Yumi—unlike Masachika, who simply lashed out, rejecting her even more harshly than she had rejected him. He never even attempted to understand what drove his mother’s actions. If only, on that day, he could have believed a little more in the kind mother he had always known, then…
“I’m sorry you have a mother like me.”
He at least could have spared his mother from having to say that.
“…!”
He trembled, his throat constricted, and before he knew it, tears were streaming down both cheeks. Masachika couldn’t even identify what triggered them. Was it his mother’s tragic past, the pain in her words, or his regret at forcing her to voice such things? If anything, it was probably all of it.
No!
A strong refusal echoed in his mind. Despite all his resentment toward his mother, Masachika’s heart was now completely rejecting her self-deprecating words and apologies.
No! My mother was always nice to me! Don’t apologize for being my mother!
He had been unable to recall what his mother was like before that day, and only knew her as the woman who awkwardly averted her gaze. But now, memories of the mother who had gently watched over him and his sister came flooding back.
“Nnn…!”
He wanted to deny it. He wanted to reject his mother’s words right then and there, but his lungs and throat wouldn’t allow it. As Masachika clenched his teeth, only sobs escaping, his mother apologized repeatedly.
“Masachika? I’m sorry. I truly am.”
Yumi likely still believed she was unconditionally at fault, despite not even knowing why he was crying, and Masachika now understood why.
Yeah… Grandpa was right.
Masachika’s paternal grandfather, Tomohisa, once said that Masachika and Yumi were alike, and Masachika now understood what he meant. They were similar. Tormented by inferiority toward those close to them, averting their eyes from radiant individuals, denying their own worth—every single thing Yumi had described resonated deeply with Masachika.
But it’s not exactly the same.
Because Masachika had talent and people who believed in him. He was blessed with a kind father and sister who were always on his side as well. But Yumi was different. Because she lacked raw talent, she was scorned by those around her. One after the other, she lost the kind mother and supportive older brother who had always been there for her. In their place, greedy individuals came swarming, targeting the Suou household and its wealth. But even then, Yumi did not run.
And I…ran…
He chose the path of self-preservation, discarding everything that mattered to spare himself pain. His mother, on the other hand, never ran away even after repeated misfortunes and hardships. She continued to push herself, grasping for any thread of hope she could find, even though her efforts were never rewarded. Instead, she was worn down, beaten, and utterly exhausted.
It’s not the same at all…
How many people had truly empathized with and understood Yumi’s suffering? Kyoutarou had claimed that he couldn’t be there when she needed him most, and perhaps there was some truth to that. Those blessed with talent remained blind to the struggles of the ordinary, just as the strong could never fathom the pain of the weak. If so, then Yumi had been truly alone all this time.
And that’s why I can’t truly understand her.
Masachika belonged to the ranks of the talented, yet precisely because he could feel even a glimmer of empathy for Yumi, there must have been words he could offer her, just as Alisa had done for him when he was drowning in regret and denying his entire self-worth.
“…!”
He took a deep breath, regaining control of his lungs and throat, then accepted the tissue Yumi handed him. After wiping his tears and blowing his nose, he took a sip of barley tea, which seemed to sharpen his mind somewhat.
“…”
Masachika gazed into the distance, organizing his thoughts.
“I’ve also…felt nothing but regret ever since I left this house,” he slowly began, his gaze still directed upward.
He could feel Yumi’s gaze turn toward him, but he continued looking upward as he continued to speak.
“I left this place in a fit of emotion, pushing all my responsibilities onto my sickly little sister. I really believed that I was worthless garbage who spends every day in idleness, without any goal or purpose.”
Even now, that feeling remained. Looking back, it felt as if his life had been nothing but a string of shameful moments tied together.
“I sacrificed my own sister’s happiness to get this life, and now, no matter what I do, I can’t even feel proud of myself. I didn’t feel like I deserved to be happy…but then, when I told all that to my student council partner, Alya…”
After lowering his gaze, he looked into Yumi’s eyes and smiled faintly.
“She got mad at me. She told me that I couldn’t regret everything I did…because it led me to her.”
Yumi’s eyes widened slightly.
How long has it been since she truly looked her son in the eye? The thought flickered through Masachika’s mind as he continued.
“I genuinely do feel like I was wasting my life doing nothing…but I met so many people because of what I did, and I learned that I needed to acknowledge that.”
He paused for a moment, then asked with quiet resolve:
“I’m sure it’s no different with you, either, right?”
Though Yumi’s gaze wavered, she didn’t look away.
“Sure, you didn’t become a diplomat…but you never gave up, which is how you met Dad, right?”
Masachika confronted his inner self while he slowly began to weave his words.
“A lot has happened…but I’m happy…because I think I would have never met so many wonderful people, otherwise.”
He had connected with his peers because of what happened. His first love who he only met after fleeing home. His precious sister who was now outgoing and vivacious. His two closest friends from Seirei Academy. His upperclassmen and underclassmen from the student council in middle school. His dependable upperclassmen from the student council in high school. His irreplaceable partner.
Thanks to them, he somehow managed to fill his days with laughter. Even if he had been living a lazy, self-indulgent, shameful life, that still didn’t change how happy he was because of them.
Masachika then offered a small smile, met Yumi’s eyes, and clearly pleaded in a calm voice:
“Please don’t apologize anymore. I need to apologize to you for not understanding what was really going on. Thank you for giving birth to me…and allowing me to meet so many wonderful people.”