Chapter 3 Overthinking

Overthinking

My hospital stay dragged on for quite some time. It seemed that the boy named Iori had been bedridden for so long that his muscles had significantly weakened, making rehabilitation a necessity—almost like strength training. I had never broken into a sweat just from walking before. Yet at first, even gripping a handrail for support, I found myself drenched. It took me nearly twenty minutes just to struggle through a mere ten meters.

However, perhaps because the boy named Iori was only fifteen—twenty years younger than I am now—after some time in rehab, my progress improved. I moved from walking practice to using crutches, and eventually, I was able to walk on my own again. My recovery was nothing short of remarkable.

On the other hand, there was little progress when it came to my amnesia. Various methods were attempted, from psychiatric counseling to hypnotherapy, but none proved effective. Each time, Kaori, who stayed by my side, would look momentarily dejected before quickly smiling and encouraging me, “Let’s try again next time.”

Well, considering my mind had changed entirely, it was only natural that those treatments wouldn’t work. Still, I pushed through, hoping that something might help me recall at least the hazy memories I had before waking up in this body. The lack of progress was frustrating for me too.

After undergoing treatment after treatment, a month had passed since I first woke up as Iori. Finally, my discharge date was set. Though my therapy for amnesia would continue after leaving the hospital, my physical strength had recovered enough that I could resume daily life without issue.

The day of my discharge.

I went around bowing my head in gratitude to the doctors and nurses who had cared for me over the past month. Then, with my mother—Kaori—by my side, I left the hospital.

Since waking up, the hospital had been my entire world. Stepping outside filled me with an indescribable emotion. But I reminded myself—this was normal. What lay ahead of me was what should have been everyday life.

…At least, that’s what I told myself. But when I really thought about it—moving into my ex-girlfriend’s house while inhabiting the body of her son—that was anything but ordinary. It amazed me how adaptable human nature could be.

“Hey, just because you’re feeling better doesn’t mean you can make a fuss in the taxi.”

Kaori, sitting beside me, gently scolded me in the car.

When I first woke up, she had looked completely drained, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. But as time passed and I continued to wake up normally, her condition gradually improved.

I had rudely thought, when we reunited, that Kaori’s face had gained a lot of wrinkles. But looking at her now, I realized much of it had been exhaustion. Her complexion had brightened, and she looked far younger than before.

…A married woman. And, in this situation, she was effectively my biological mother. What the hell was I doing, staring at her like that? I clutched my head in frustration.

“So that’s why… Fufu.”

Kaori looked like she was about to scold me again but held back, her lips curling into a gentle, amused smile. Maybe she was relieved—seeing her son, who had once been as lifeless as a doll, now behaving like a normal teenager again.

When she apologized to the taxi driver, I hurriedly followed suit.

The driver chuckled good-naturedly, waving it off as no big deal.

“Thank you.”

The taxi, passing through unfamiliar streets, soon came to a stop in front of a house.

After Kaori paid the fare and stepped out, I followed her. Not long after, the taxi drove away, leaving us behind.

“This is our home.”

Watching the taxi disappear, I turned back toward the house.

A quiet residential neighborhood in the heart of the city.

Owning a house in a place like this—Kaori’s husband must have been quite capable. I found myself oddly impressed.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

Following Kaori, I stepped through the gate, crossed the yard, and reached the front door.

The moment I stepped into the clean, well-kept interior, I slipped off my shoes and trailed behind her. She led me to the living room.

As I took in my surroundings, Kaori paid me no mind and quietly walked toward the corner of the room.

“…Iori, would you put your hands together first?”

Kaori was kneeling before an altar.

The scent of incense curled faintly in the air, tickling my nose.

And then—my breath caught.

I had suspected it for a while now. Over the course of my month-long hospitalization, Kaori had visited me constantly, coming again and again without fail.

It must have been an enormous burden on her.

The emotional toll alone must have been suffocating.

And yet… something had always felt off.

Kaori had always been there for me. Or rather, she had always been there for her real son.

No matter how exhausting it must have been.

No matter how much strain it put on her.

She had devoted herself entirely to caring for him, without hesitation.

But in all that time… Kaori’s husband never once visited the boy named Iori.

And throughout my entire hospital stay, she never spoke of him. Not even once.

Kneeling beside her, I lit an incense stick from the candle’s flame and pressed my hands together.

“…Your father must be happy too.”

I had hoped—prayed—that I was wrong.

I had wanted this to be nothing more than a baseless fear.

But unfortunately, my intuition had been right.

Sitting on the altar was a framed photograph of a man with refined features, his face frozen in a warm smile. There was no longer any doubt—this was a memorial portrait. And the man in the picture… was Kaori’s husband.

Kaori gently stroked my head.

“Shall we start preparing dinner soon?”

After saying that, she stood up.

“…Iori?”

But I couldn’t bring myself to move. My hands remained clasped together as I stayed frozen in place.

My thoughts were a tangled mess, like knotted threads. To put it simply—I was dejected.

Kaori’s husband had passed away.

Of course, that was part of why I felt so heavy.

But the real reason was…

Kaori had married at twenty. A mutual acquaintance had once told me that she met her husband at university, after moving to the city. They had spoken with such warmth, smiling as they shared the news of Kaori’s marriage.

I had parted ways with Kaori when she was eighteen. Let’s meet again someday. That was our promise. But in the end, it had never been fulfilled—until now.

I had always known.

I had always understood that I was nothing more than a part of Kaori’s past.

And yet, some part of me had foolishly hoped. That if I saw her again, maybe—just maybe—we could reconnect. That if I saw her again, maybe I… could be happy.

Even though I knew it was impossible, I had let myself dream.

And somewhere along the way, I had started believing her marriage was just an illusion. I had known the truth all along—but until I was faced with it, I refused to accept it.

And so, when I finally saw her husband’s memorial portrait—

When I saw Kaori kneeling beside me, pressing her hands together with quiet solemnity—

My heart sank.

It was only now, far too late, that I realized—I had lost her.

“…Iori. Once you’ve settled in, how about trying to go to high school?”

Perhaps sensing my mood, Kaori suddenly spoke, as if trying to lift the heavy silence.

“High school?”

“Yes. You worked so hard for your entrance exams and got into your first-choice school… though, you might not remember it.”

Remembering my circumstances, Kaori’s expression dimmed slightly.

It was only natural. She had likely helped the real Iori prepare for his exams, supporting him selflessly—just as she had once supported me.

“…Yeah. Alright.”

Before I even realized it, I had given my answer.

It was now, at this moment, that I finally understood—I had lost Kaori.

Let’s meet again someday.

That promise… would never be fulfilled.

But right now, the only person who could be there for Kaori in her loneliness was me.

Not her late husband.

Not the real Iori, who still hadn’t awakened.

Only me.

“I’m glad. Then, why don’t you try on your uniform?”

“…Huh?”

“I picked it up already. Just in case… for whenever you woke up.”

Kaori smiled as she said that. And at that moment, a sharp pang of guilt tightened around my chest—the guilt of living a lie.