Chapter 22 Association

Association

I was walking home from Tachibana-san’s house. The night air in this season, after the wardrobe change, carried a slight chill, signaling the end of the lingering summer heat—it felt pleasant.

When I was about to leave Tachibana-san’s house, she offered to walk me to the station. But I declined. I was more worried about her being alone on the way back, and I also felt bad about leaving Yuka-chan home alone.

Tachibana-san simply said she understood and mentioned that she would carefully think over what I had told her tonight.

To help Yuka-chan eat the foods she dislikes, we need to create some kind of benefit for her to do so.

That was the gist of what I had conveyed to her in my long-winded and unorganized talk.

But as soon as I finished saying it, a thought struck me.

I sure make things sound easy…

Maybe I had made it sound simple at that moment, but in reality, it wasn’t easy at all. My suggestion, at its core, relied on finding something Yuka-chan wanted so much that she would endure eating what she disliked for it.

For instance, if Yuka-chan had little to no material desires, this plan wouldn’t work. Even if we used rewards as an incentive, like buying her a game or something, it wouldn’t be worth the cost if the burden was too great.

Without a precise understanding of how Yuka-chan weighs things in her mind, this wouldn’t be easy to pull off.

Unfortunately, since my time knowing Yuka-chan and the others had been short, I had to admit that despite making the suggestion, I wasn’t in a position to help much.

And that made me think.

Making a proposal with such confidence, only to leave the rest entirely up to others—that’s not something a decent person would do.

I couldn’t help but feel guilty about my careless approach. But at the same time, this wasn’t something I could easily help with, so maybe it couldn’t be helped.

…No, that’s not right.

If I can’t help directly, then I should find someone who can.

Instead of just shelving the problem because I can’t solve it myself, I should look for someone who can.

That, more than anything, is the proper way to follow through on something I’ve gotten involved in.

Is there someone I can turn to for advice?

For example—

Someone with children, who has likely faced similar concerns, and who has lived longer than Tachibana-san—wouldn’t such a person be the most suitable to consult?

But there’s no way such a perfect candidate would conveniently be right by my side…

“…There is.”

The moment the thought struck me, I quickened my pace and hurried home.

…Though I had gone through that whole detour, the truth was, from the beginning, I had always intended to consult Kaori about this matter. That whole mental detour had been nothing more than my attempt to rationalize it to myself—a pointless effort to convince myself that talking to her was the right thing to do.

Why did I hesitate so much to explain the Tachibana family’s situation to Kaori?

…The answer was simple. I didn’t want anyone making baseless assumptions about my relationship with her.

“I’m home.”

“Welcome back.”

I heard Kaori’s voice coming from the study.

It seemed she was still engrossed in her work.

Should I avoid disturbing her?

No, I should disturb her.

One year in high school. Then, a few months since I possessed Iori’s body.

Kaori had always been someone who liked looking after others.

“Hey, do you have a moment?”

Opening the study door, I called out to her.

“Hmm? What is it?”

“…I need some advice.”

Seeing my serious expression, Kaori smiled gently.

“That’s rare. You, asking me for advice?”

“…Well—”

I hesitated. Ever since waking up, I had been maintaining the pretense of having lost my past memories. Apparently, Iori had never been the type to seek Kaori’s counsel.

“Sorry. I’m not trying to force you to remember… Just forget it, okay?”

But from the way she spoke, I could tell—a part of her did want me to remember. And that was only natural, considering she was the one who had endured the pain of childbirth to bring this boy into the world.

“So, what’s your question?”

Just as I was starting to feel sentimental, Kaori’s voice snapped me back to reality.

I hesitated. I had come to ask for advice, yet I hadn’t thought at all about how to start.

“…Did I used to have foods I didn’t like?”

I decided to make light of the situation by framing it as a joke about myself.

But the moment I asked, Kaori’s eyes widened in obvious surprise.

“Oh, you did. There were plenty.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Me, for instance.”

“…Huh?”

“You were always a daddy’s boy.”

Spinning in her swivel chair, Kaori pursed her lips and continued.

“Really, it was always ‘Dad, Dad, Dad’ with you. You wouldn’t go to sleep unless it was with him, and even on trips, you insisted on holding his hand. You outright refused to hold mine. That’s just how you were.”

“…Huh.”

“I was pretty jealous, you know. I tried all sorts of things to get your attention. The most effective one was telling you that if you didn’t sleep with me, you wouldn’t be allowed to sleep with Dad anymore. That time, you actually cried while sleeping beside me.”

Watching Kaori laugh as she reminisced, I felt a pang of doubt—was that really okay? But seeing how happy she looked, I figured it must be.

To her, all of her memories with Iori seemed to be happy ones she could laugh about.

Kaori had once said—

“Even if you have memory loss, I’m just happy you came back.”

Even in the face of such a towering obstacle, she was simply glad to have reunited with her son.

She must believe…

That someday, even this memory loss will be overcome, and she will once again share laughter with the boy she knew as Iori. That’s why she could stay so cheerful.

“Well, I suppose it couldn’t be helped. Your father was good at everything. It’s no wonder you relied on him.”

“…I see.”

“Yeah. Honestly, looking back, maybe I should’ve married someone who needed a little more looking after. Not that I’d ever tell your father that.”

The moment Kaori said those words, my heart gave a loud thud.

Just now… Just now, I saw it in her eyes.

“Someone who needed a little more looking after.”

She had unmistakably been thinking of someone when she said that.

One person.

And I knew one man among Kaori’s acquaintances who fit that description.

Out of nowhere, I had stumbled upon a clue to the truth.

“D-Did you… know someone like that?”

Struggling to keep my heart from racing, I asked, my mouth dry with tension.

“…Yeah. There was someone. Just one person. …Only one.”

Kaori narrowed her eyes nostalgically as she continued.

“I can’t say this too loudly, but… back in high school, my boyfriend was like that.”