kscans

Chapter 19 - To the Girls Who Lived to the Fullest That Day

After her father's funeral, an elderly woman came to visit Tsukie.

She said she had seen the obituary in the newspaper and, after some hesitation, had come because there was something she absolutely had to tell her. The woman introduced herself as Saito Akemi. She was Akina's mother.

"She said she didn't get to see her papa, but that the train trip was fun."

Akemi relayed Akina's last words.

"What? She didn't see him?"

"Yes. That's what she said. But when she passed away and I contacted my ex-husband, I found out that they had actually met. To think he wouldn't even hug his own daughter who had come to see him in such a snowstorm... But Akina never said a word about that. She just said it was fun. She kept wondering when Tsukie-chan's cold would get better. And how she wanted to play together soon. Right up until the end, that's all she repeated. You see, since she was born, she spent most of her time in the hospital and never had any friends her own age. You were her first and last friend. Every day, Akina would talk about nothing but you... No matter how painful the tests or how hard the treatments were, she did her best for those moments she could spend playing with you. I think in those few short months she got to know you, she received a lifetime's worth of happiness."

Had thirty years finally allowed Akina's mother to speak calmly about her daughter's final days? Akemi, who had hesitated to visit, and Tsukie, who had sealed it away in her heart, had both carried the same pain that would not easily heal.

Akemi probably hadn't wanted to see Tsukie. It must have been painful to see a healthy Tsukie. Knowing this, Tsukie couldn't help but apologize.

"But if I hadn't pushed her so hard that day, she wouldn't have passed away so suddenly... She wouldn't have had to feel so sad, and she could have gone on believing that music box was a present from her father... I'm so sorry. I did something unforgivable."

Akemi quietly shook her head.

"It was a miracle that she lived as long as she did, that she could walk on her own two feet and live like a normal child. By then, signs of leukemia were already showing, and it was only a matter of time before she wouldn't be able to leave a sterile room. For her, I think the most painful thing would have been not being able to hold hands or hug you anymore. So, maybe it was a blessing that she was able to pass away without much suffering, with only happy memories in her heart."

"I didn't know any of that... Akina-chan was always smiling, so I had no idea she was going through something so difficult... That's why I so easily took her out into the snow..."

"Don't blame yourself or apologize to me. I came here to tell you the words I couldn't say to you thirty years ago."

Akemi took Tsukie's hand.

"Tsukie-chan, thank you for treating Akina as an equal until the very end. Thank you for being her friend. Thank you for creating one last memory of the outside world for her."

"An equal?"

Tsukie murmured, stunned.

"Yes. Because she had an incurable disease from birth, she was always treated specially, wherever she went. She was always surrounded by adults, and even when she played, the other person was always being careful around her. But you were different. If Akina was being selfish like she usually was, you would stop talking to her, wouldn't you?"

"Ah, well..."

Tsukie gave an embarrassed smile. Akemi smiled too.

"That's how it should be. That's how you become friends. You two fought a lot, didn't you? On those days, she would worry until late at night that you wouldn't come back anymore. But the next day, you'd come with a cute notepad or some stickers, and Akina would fall asleep hugging them... She was happy, in her own way. And you were the one who gave her that happiness."

She was happy, in her own way... Those words resonated deep within Tsukie's heart. Was Akina happy, really? Is it really okay for me to believe that...?

"Um... about the music box..."

Tsukie began hesitantly.

"I broke the spring... I promised Akina-chan I would fix it for her, but I didn't make it in time... I buried it along the abandoned tracks of the Yubari Railway we traveled on together. Actually, I went to look for it, but I couldn't find it anymore..."

"Is that so... But that music box was a treasure for the two of you, wasn't it? If you buried it in a place full of memories, perhaps that's for the best."

With a distant look in her eyes, Akina's mother said this and then left. She, too, had probably come to find some closure for her own feelings. To confirm that her daughter's life had not been in vain.

That was how much of a continuous struggle living had been for Akina. No parent can bear to watch their child suffer. Now a mother herself, Tsukie could understand Akemi's feelings as a mother.

How much must Akemi have envied Tsukie's health? How much must she have wished for her own child's recovery? Even knowing it was a wish that could not be granted, she must not have been able to stop wishing.

That mother would probably live the rest of her life thinking of her deceased daughter. Just as she had done until now, she would continue to do so.

Tsukie felt that she would probably never see her again.

Tsukie wondered if, someday, when Mayu lost her way in life, she would be able to tell her the story of those two girls. How strongly they had been connected, how earnestly and straightforwardly they had lived.

And yet, how that single-mindedness had led to such an irreversible tragedy.

And about the boy who had helped her bury the music box. Surely her daughter would also be able to glean something from that story.

Tsukie gently stroked the head of her daughter, who had come to cling to her waist. She was about to start elementary school, the same age as the girls on that day.

"Mama, it's a sunset."

Mayu pointed at the sky.

Looking up, she saw a deep red sunset, the same as on the day she had cried while chasing the train to heaven, staining the western sky.


Curtain