Chapter 23 Deeply Jealous

Deeply Jealous

As Kaori continued gazing into the distance, I felt like I should say something. But my thoughts were in disarray, my lips trembled, and I couldn’t form the right words.

I needed to ask something.

Caught in that compulsion, I searched for some cool, superficial words to say—but in the end, I said nothing.

“W-What kind of person was he?”

In the end, I settled for something safe and unremarkable.

“That’s unusual.”

Kaori smiled.

I tilted my head, not understanding what she meant.

“Sorry. Ever since you woke up, you haven’t really seemed to care about anything outside of yourself.”

“R-Really?”

Her remark was so sharp that all I could do was let out a dry laugh. I scratched my head in an attempt to brush it off, though I wasn’t sure if it worked.

“…It’s an old story.”

Maybe because it was rare for me to show interest, Kaori seemed willing to share her memories.

Gazing into the distance with nostalgia, she continued.

“I met him in my third year of high school. Back then, he was a first-year. We became a couple, but… it’s not like I had a thing for younger guys, you know? It’s just… how do I put it? He was a bit absentminded, kind of reckless from an outsider’s perspective, and I just couldn’t leave him alone. That was my first impression of him.”

Even now, twenty years later, when I think back, I feel the same way about myself. For Kaori, watching from the sidelines, his recklessness must have seemed even worse.

“…Honestly, I never wanted to do it, but… I was the student council president in my third year of high school. I hated it, you know? The teachers kept pushing, saying, ‘You’re the perfect fit,’ and my classmates got all excited, cheering me on—it was annoying. Well, I have to admit, when they told me it would look good on my record, I kind of went along with it. That’s how I ended up as student council president, but I had terrible stage fright. I first met him right before the entrance ceremony, when I was a nervous wreck at the front entrance. To calm myself down, I walked him to his classroom—and that’s when I formed the impression I just told you about.”

…She was sharing all sorts of things I’d never known.

Even after dating Kaori for nearly a year, I had no idea she had reluctantly been student council president or that she had stage fright.

“Strangely enough, being with him made me feel at ease.”

I remained silent, waiting for Kaori to continue.

“It wasn’t uncomfortable. But… back then, I was lying to myself.”

“…Lying to yourself?”

“He was an easygoing and optimistic person. That’s not a bad thing—it was one of his strengths. No doubt about that. But I… I always felt like I had to take the lead. I had to guide him. I had to be the one pulling him forward. But the truth is… I’m a coward. I’m sensitive, overly cautious, and high-strung. Telling myself I had to lead, that I had to pull him along—it became a burden.”

…There was a time I had similar thoughts.

That was after I had possessed the body of a boy named Iori. After I had been reunited with the woman I once loved in the most inexplicable way. As we deepened this false bond of parent and child… I found myself thinking it over and over again.

Kaori was far more innocent, far more childlike than I had ever realized.

Back then, I had forced her to carry a burden. I had made her grow up too soon while I sat back and took it easy.

“I met your father the year I moved to Tokyo.”

The answer was already clear.

“He was a senior in the tennis club I joined. A dependable person. He had already secured a job at a bank for after graduation. And just like that, I fell in love.”

There was no need to hear any more.

“…Actually, you had an older sister—three years older than you. We had what you’d call a shotgun wedding. But… I lost her. I had a miscarriage. I can laugh about it now, but back then, I was devastated. The one who supported me through it all was your father.”

And yet, I still couldn’t stop listening to Kaori’s story.

I knew I didn’t have to hear this. I could just say, “That’s enough,” and it would end there. I knew that. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

Maybe I wanted to use my past self as a lesson in what not to be.

It was something I had thought about countless times before.

Kaori had called my old self’s easygoing nature a strength. But I had never once seen that side of me as a virtue.

I thought it was a flaw that needed fixing, and I thought that I had fixed it.

But deep down, that useless version of me still festered inside.

No matter how much I tried to wipe it away.

No matter how much I polished myself.

That pathetic, cowardly version of me would always resurface, without warning, without mercy.

…Even now.

Even now.

Even now, I still—

I had known all along.

Over and over and over again—over and over!

On the day Kaori and I parted ways on good terms.

On the day I heard she had gotten married.

On the day I, inside her son’s body, stood before her husband’s altar and pressed my hands together in prayer.

Kaori had a husband.

A man she loved, a man she had sworn to spend eternity with.

And that man was not me.

I had known this. Over and over, I had told myself I understood.

And yet, every time—every time—somewhere deep inside, I still clung to the illusion that I had a chance.

Even though there was no place for me to squeeze in, I couldn’t bring myself to let go of hope.

Hope…? No, that wasn’t it.

It was complacency. The lazy indulgence of allowing myself to wallow in self-pity.

And I had let myself sink into it without resistance.

“I can never thank him enough.”

In the end, Kaori expressed her gratitude toward her late husband.

I was jealous.

I was jealous of the man Kaori was thanking so deeply.

Realizing the ugly jealousy festering inside me, I wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible.

“…So, um, what’s your old boyfriend doing these days?”

In my confusion, I ended up asking something far too unnatural.

I did want to know. But to ask that now, right after she had just spoken about her late husband—it was beyond inappropriate.

Kaori didn’t ask me why I was bringing it up.

She simply—

“Well… who knows?”

She answered with a troubled smile.

…Something stirred inside me, and for a moment, I felt my blood boil.