Please Give Me Love c3

I’ve started to feel lately like using a phrase like “dispensing with the preliminaries” isn’t so fitting anymore so I tried to begin the letter like so. What do you think? Now that your name has started to drift to mind naturally, I felt like “dispensing with the preliminaries” wasn’t quite right.

I was a bit scared to ask you about what’s happened since with regards to that, so that’s why I didn’t write any letters to you for so long. Don’t laugh, okay? It’s not that I’m in love with you, but this feeling of loneliness grabbed ahold of me, and the inside of my heart was wracked with a storm of jealousy.

I’m still not sure though whether this should be called love. It’s just, I want to stay true to the promise I made with you in the very beginning and tell you only the truth. Remember how we made the promise that in this letter correspondence, we would open up to each other everything that we can’t to others?

I wondered just how much I should tell you, but I don’t have anyone that I could seek advice from other than you, Motojirou. That’s why I’m going to muster up the courage to tell you the truth, okay?

It’s just…my desire to be treated kindly by him is, all in all, strong. I know this is a strange way to put it, but there is a part of me that is one-sidedly seeking from him the fatherly magnanimous quality that I get from you, Motojirou. And plus, I still don’t really know what “love” is since I’ve yet to love anyone–no, perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I’ve never trusted anyone–at any rate, I’ve lived my life without knowing how to love or be loved.

He’s the father of one of the preschool children whom I am in charge of looking after, and I mentioned him briefly in a previous letter. He’s the father who always comes to drop Kazu-kun off at the preschool—in other words, this is what society would call an affair. Are you surprised? You think less of me now, don’t you? I am writing this letter after having prepared myself for the possibility that you might stop writing to me. It takes courage to write the truth. If I lie, it’s beautiful on the surface, but our letter correspondence was one that we started to share with each other the truth, so that’s why I’m writing all about the truth.

It was my first time entrusting my body to a man and although I’m almost nineteen, it was what you could call, a belated loss of virginity. It was that my distrust in humans was just too strong, and there was that reason I’d never fallen in love with someone before, but I hadn’t had any sexual relations previously.

I do think that I like him— at the very least, I have feelings of admiration for him. But I don’t love him. There is no love. There is definitely no love. Since I’ve never experienced love, I can’t say so with conviction, but I know what I was looking for from him wasn’t love or affection. Without knowing where my heart lies, I clung onto him as if my life depended on it.

And as for him, when he found out it was my first time, he was really shocked. From my point of view, he looked dismayed. He gazed down at me and when he finally found his voice again, he told me to go and take a shower and I ran into the bathroom without a word. While the hot water poured down over me, I cried. It wasn’t because I was sad…I don’t know how to describe it, but the tears just came streaming down on their own. I hated my own body. I hated that I was alive—that I existed on this Earth.

We slipped into the nearest underground bar, as if we were running away from the line of sight of those around us, and there, we gazed at each other. Kiba-san cracked a lot of jokes, and he was trying his hardest to put me, who was a bit tense, in a more relaxed mood. It was probably that both of us had thoughts of Kazu-kun cross our minds, but our laughter was a bit awkward, and our words trailed off often. However, we tried our hardest to brush away the nervousness that threatened to close our mouths, and we continued to talk.

I think what I was looking for from him was the sense of security I felt from his outer appearance. It’s not that I fell for Kiba-san himself— I think what I wanted was Kazu-kun’s father. I wanted a father so much that I offered my body to him, because I wanted to draw him closer to me.

After we ate, we drank some alcohol, and before I knew it, I was standing at the entrance of the hotel district after being led there by Kiba-san. When I looked down at the neon-filled road, I thought: there is one more entrance here. I felt that if I passed through this entrance, I would be stepping into another world, and I would no longer be able to turn back. I felt that in front of me was a world mixed with fear and desire.

Being embraced by his thick arm, I slept until our time was up. I felt as if I reverted back to being an infant. As for Kiba-san—I don’t know if it was because I was a virgin, but he kept apologizing to me. Although I kept wondering why this person was apologizing to me, his voice eventually became like a lullaby, and I was able to feel at ease. While in his embrace, I was able to feel like all the pain and suffering I had endured in my life had been cancelled out. I thought: Oh, this is it. This was the smell of this being called “father” whom I had been searching for all this time. Thick arms, kind eyes, the smell of sweat and low voice. As I caught the sound of his heartbeat with my ear, I reverted back to being a child, to the pureness I had then.

Only after I had left the hotel did I realize for the first time the gravity of the sin I had committed. I stole from another person’s family what I didn’t have—the happiness that wasn’t distributed to me at birth. Despite the guilt I felt from my actions for doing something like this to Kazu-kun and Kiba-san’s wife, at the same time, I felt elated at having been able to take a whiff of happiness. As it turns out, happiness and unhappiness are two sides of a coin; I didn’t know that. Although I was frightened by it, on one hand, I felt comfort in being dragged gradually into the darkness.

Motojirou, I don’t mind if you break off your relationship with me. I don’t mind if you give up on me. I don’t mind if you don’t send a reply. Just being able to tell you the truth like this has made me feel a little better. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t stand it.

Also, I think this experiment will continue for some time yet. I think that I’m trying to attempt to search for this happiness that people who live normally have at their disposal by observing the happiness of the Kiba family. Happiness, huh? It feels like something far away.

I wrote this all out in one sitting, but I’m afraid to read it over. Am I really going to send this? And when I imagine the look of pain on your face as you read this, I wonder if this is what a terrorist who has succeeded in detonating a bomb feels like. It might just be that I’m trying to get a taste of the feelings of what it’s like to be an evil villain by having you read the minute details of this play of revenge. I don’t know, I’ve yet to figure out my feelings on this matter.

I’m sorry that the contents of this letter turned out like they did.

May 6th.

It’s true that you opened up to me about the truth. I do think it takes courage to tell someone about the truth. Not only that, but the truth hurts, and the person on the receiving end feels just as much pain. That’s why this thing called truth is practically like the edge of a sword.

The issue at hand is what love is exactly, but, like you, I don’t know either. I’m still a virgin, and like you, I’ve never truly fallen for anyone before. But in this day and age when people fall in love so easily, I don’t think there’s anything at all wrong with not falling easily for others. In this world overflowing with “love,” I think it’s right of you to try to sincerely face love.

If you are not regretting losing your virginity so casually, then I think that that’s fine. If I had to give you one word of warning though, I think it’s better for you to cut ties with that person before you become too deeply involved. If you have genuine feelings for him then I won’t try to stop you, but if it’s a relationship that you have only because you wanted to take a peek at happiness, I think it’s definitely for your benefit to end this relationship. You should try and find your own happiness. I have no intention of lecturing you about something obvious like what a terrible thing you’re doing to Kazu-kun and Kiba-san’s wife—but I have to tell you: what you’re seeing is nothing more than a mirage. I think happiness is something that exists in numbers as many as there are humans on this Earth, and what you saw was nothing more than one happiness of many, and you have your own happiness out there that is perfect for you.

I think that you need to treasure yourself more. I don’t know what reasons he has for seducing you so I’ll be careful about commenting based on my imagination alone, but in the case that he truly falls for you, I think you will be the one who will end up suffering. Why, you ask? Because you don’t think anything of him. You won’t be able to just say that it was only fun and games. You won’t be able to say that you only wanted to take a whiff of another person’s happiness. I have a feeling that it would be more dangerous for you if he is the one to become serious about you—because if you think about it, he has a family and he probably has circumstances of his own.

It seems it wouldn’t be a good idea to search for opportunities to meet people in the preschool or other narrow places like that . Now that you’re out in society, why don’t you try going out a bit among the people? In addition, I think it’ll do you good to fall in love. Well, love can come later, so first you should try feeling genuine affection for another.

Humans aren’t tools, after all. You need to have some feelings invested, don’t you think?

As for who this woman is, as I mentioned to you in a previous letter, she is someone I met at the hospital which my mother frequents. We’re only casual acquaintances who make small talk in the waiting room while my mother is having her examination done. It’s still not at a stage in which I can say for sure that this is love—but I don’t know if you could call this love at first sight, but it was the first time I’ve ever felt this way, so there’s a part of me that wants to wait and see how I should treat these feelings.

She’s always looking down, so she does give off a bit of a sombre atmosphere, but I guess it’s her side profile, but she gives off the aura like you’re looking at an image of the Virgin Mary and I can’t help but be curious as to what is at the end of her gaze that is always downcast—as to what is inside her heart.

With regards to the matter of you and Kiba-san, I know it’s not for me to say this and that, but if you want to attain true happiness, I think you need to experience what it is to feel affection for another first. It’s the same for me—that’s why I have a small bit of hope in this encounter that has moved my heart.

Please don’t get too deeply involved with Kiba-san. You’re better off reeling in the line that is tied at the end of your feelings, and you should try going out into town and finding love.

I’m sorry that this is a postcard instead of a letter.

Oh right, switching topics here, but don’t you think there are an unusually large number of things that bothers one but that you just always keep neglecting? Like me, I have many things like that. For example, like how I haven’t shown up to tennis class in a really long time, or like things like the bicycle that I never ride that I just leave outside to get hit by the rain or the bank account that I don’t close despite never using it, the photo book I borrowed but have yet to return, and the cavity that I keep thinking I have to get fixed but never do.

Ririka.

My Dear Ririka-sama,

I also have many things that bother me but that I leave off to the side. One of them is the promise I made with a friend that I’ve yet to fulfill. This is something that took place quite a long time ago, but back in high school, I made a promise with a classmate that we would make a round of Hokkaido by bicycle. Although we were emphatic that this was a man-to-man promise and that neither of us could back down from it, we haven’t done anything about it since. He’s currently working in a place called the department of continuing education at the municipal office, but since this is a small town, if we really wanted to we could see each other any time we’d like, but maybe that is the very problem—that we live so close? At any rate, we still haven’t been able to fulfill that promise.

Postcards aren’t bad, don’t you think? But it’s crammed with words.

Motojirou.

P.S.

From Moto.

My Dear Ririka-sama,

Just a note: I just sent off a postcard to you, but I suddenly had this urge to write you another letter so right now I’m writing this in a rush. I think these two letters will arrive there at the same time.

I think he’s about five or so years older than me, but he was an interesting person whom I felt at ease talking to as if he were a fellow classmate of mine. We ate lunch together during the break and he told me about Osaka and the different places he’s been travelling around for a long time such as Europe and Africa. I was touched. My imagination opened up and I was able to feel as if I was the one who had gone vacationing overseas.

Several weeks passed and I received a phone call. It was from a classmate of mine from back in elementary school and she was a girl named Ayako-san who attended the same school as me. She suddenly asked me: Is someone named Snuffkin-san a friend of yours? I was surprised and asked her to repeat the question, and as it turned out— you know how you often hear how a friend of a friend gave birth or how a friend of a friend of a friend won $100,000 in the lottery? It was something like that. It was something like a game of telephone, and as it turned out, Snuffkin’s friend of a friend of a friend of a friend was Ayako-san. Do you get it? It’s complicated, huh?

Rather than calling you directly, I call a friend who lives as close to your town as possible. Since I don’t have any friends in Shimokitazawa, a friend who lives in the suburbs of Tokyo will do. Next, that friend who lives in the suburbs of Tokyo will call his friend who lives in the Setagaya district near Shimokita. Then, that friend in Setagaya will search for a friend in Shimokita and call him. Bit by bit, it’ll get closer to you, right? Next, that friend will try and call a friend who is likely to know you—of course, that will have to be on a guess. That’s how the circle of friendship gradually gets narrower in your direction. That’s how, after a number of people, the call will definitely get through to you. You might not believe me, but this is magic in which it will always lead to that person.

His message went: Yo, are you doing well? See, I told you—it’s a small world, right?

Motojirou.

P.S.

Your story of Snuffkin was really interesting. I can imagine that there is quite a bit of linkage between friends of friends. When I think it like that, I do feel that the world is one.

Toono Ririka.

P.S.

In some ways, I feel like I’ll be able to get back on my feet soon enough (a good point about me is that I’m quick to get back on my feet).

Thank you for always being there for me.

To My Beloved Riri,

Lately, I’ve been devoting my time to cooking. Not only that, but I’ve opened my eyes to Italian food, and it’s been no joke. I’ve never learned how to cook Italian food though, so if I were to say it properly, I guess you’d call it creative Italian cooking. Since a long time ago, I’ve hated reading manuals and guides, let alone learning something from someone else, so this cooking of mine is completely self-taught, and not a single bit of it has been learned from someone else. I’m better at discovering things than learning things. I guess you could say I’m a genius that way.

What I did first before I started cooking was to think back to the taste of the risotto that I had tried once before. It’s the same with any kind of cooking, but ahem, a good chef is someone who can imagine in his or her mind the completed dish.

First, you boil a moderate amount of water in a smallish pot. You then put Western-style powdered soup stock into the boiling water, and a tiny bit of sugar. Then, when the broth is ready, you put in a moderate amount of rice and you let it simmer until the rice soaks in the flavour. It’s best if you prepare the rice to be a bit on the firm side. Next, you put in a dash of white wine, olive oil and balsamic vinegar and you let it simmer once more. When the broth begins to disappear, you sprinkle on a generous amount of powdered cheese. If possible, put in egg yolk and mix it up. There! It’s starting to look more like a risotto. When you get to this point, you quickly mix in thinly sliced pickles. Then, you serve it in a bowl, and for a finishing touch, you sprinkle it with parsley and you’re done! The Nagasawa-style risotto is complete. The tricky part is how you interpret the meaning of a “moderate” amount. The proper amount of “moderate amount” is what decides whether you are a genius or not. Were these instructions clear? Bon appetit! Try it out next time, won’t you?

May 23rd.

I have a feeling like I’ve gotten a glimpse of your talent at cooking from your comment that I should try imagining the food in its completed state. After I was finished eating it, I thought how it might taste even better if you put plenty of seafood in it. Well, bye. May 27th. I apologize that this is a postcard.

From Ririka.

Hello, Motojirou.

Are you doing well? Your Nagasawa-style risotto recipe has been a big hit for me personally.

I thought you would look down on me for what I did with Kiba-san, but to the contrary, you were really worried for me—thank you for that. Love, huh? I know it’s something important, but…

But as for the result, I haven’t really been able to follow your advice of not becoming too deeply involved with Kiba-san. I even went to a hotel with him again last night. On the morning of that day, he came to drop off Kazu-kun. He asked me if I was free that night and before I’d realized it, I had nodded my head. Around the time I finished work, he contacted me on my cell phone, and asked me if I could come out to Shibuya. Although your warning kept on flashing through my mind during work, once I heard Kiba-san’s voice, I was a goner. When I thought of how he would gently embrace me like a father would, my body moved on its own.

My skin was against his skin, and I took in the scent of a man’s chest. I kept on calling out inside my heart so Kiba-san wouldn’t be able to hear: “Father, father.” Every time I called out “father” though, my heart would squeeze painfully, and tears threatened to fall from my eyes. But this wasn’t my heart being moved; it was more like my emotions had gone into overdrive. I think the same thing would’ve happened with anyone—it didn’t have to be with Kiba-san. It was like it didn’t matter as long as there was the broad chest of a man.

Kiba-san, noticing me like this, asked: “What’s wrong?” and without meaning to, I blurted out: “Daddy, why did you throw me away? Was it because Ririka was a child you didn’t need?”

I want to go out into town and fall in love. But I’m just not convinced that what I’m searching for can be found in this city. What is it that I’m really searching for? I have a feeling that my relationship with Kiba-san will become even more deeply rooted. Motojirou, what should I do? How can I make true happiness mine?

As well, it feels like the more deeply involved I become with Kiba-san, the more aggressive the bullying I am experiencing at the pre-school is becoming. Inohara-sensei seems to have begun to entertain suspicious about me and Kiba-san, and she pointed her finger at me in front of the other teachers at the meeting held after parents’ day and said:

When I shot back: “What do you mean by that?” She said that the fathers who come to the pre-school are always staring at me. When I replied: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s not my fault,” one side of her mouth lifted up into a nasty smile, and she said to me: “Maybe you’re subconsciously looking at the fathers of the pre-school children in a manner that could be misunderstood.”

There are times I wonder whether I can continue working here because there is also that issue of Kiba-san. I can’t help but think how relieved I’d feel if I could quit this place. But it’s not like I’d be able to find a job easily, and there are a mountain of various challenging problems.

As I was peering into the play area, Mihara-sensei came up behind me and greeted me. She was very happy to see me there, but I was troubled by it. I couldn’t help but hate the self that made my feet head to the Light of Stars orphanage. She dragged me into the orphanage in a pushy manner saying I should drop in, and although I resisted, it seems my heart had already accepted her suggestion. She took me to the reception area and served me tea. As luck would have it, the director of the orphanage was away on a business trip so he was absent. Not many of the other teachers were there either, and it made me feel a little more at ease.

At first, I didn’t understand what she was saying. When I realized it was my father she was referring to, my heart began to beat rapidly, and it became hard to breathe.

As it turns out, a little while ago—it turned out to be about a week ago, the man who had dropped me off at the Light of Stars orphanage came to pay a visit to Mihara-sensei. He’s the brother-in-law of my father’s, and he was someone who had raised me for a short period of time. He seemed to have come down with a serious illness, and she told me that he was worried that if something were to happen to him, I might never have the chance to see my father. It seems that my father was visited by two misfortunes soon after my birth. One was the bankruptcy of his trading company, and the other that happened during the same time period was the death of his wife, in other words, the mother who gave birth to me. And my father, who had two sources of suffering in the form of debt and the death of his wife, decided to leave me in his brother-in-law’s care and went into hiding in Kyushu. But that brother-in-law who took me in temporarily ran into a difficult situation when he and his wife divorced shortly afterwards, and it became very difficult for him to continue to raise me. And after much thought, he ended up leaving me in the care of the Light of Stars orphanage. At that time, my father was in a situation in which he had finally been able to begin to somehow support himself, but because he was still carrying an enormous amount of debt and he was still living a life in hiding, it wasn’t a situation which allowed him to take me back by any means. Well, I don’t really care about their excuses, but as a result, I ended up at the Light of Stars orphanage.

But it’s like, really—stuff like circumstances and emotional preparation? I didn’t have any of that. To the contrary, I was thrown away before I’d even realized what was happening. It’s not like I want to see him anyway. Even if I saw him now, I probably wouldn’t even have a solid sense of him being my father.

Although it pains me to write this letter today, it must be just as hard for you to read this; I’m sorry. But because I am able to jot down my feelings like this, I feel a little better. You really are a support line for me, Motojirou. I want to be scolded by you. I want you to scold the stupid, ugly, boring me. I’m sorry I’m always relying on you like this. I know that you must have problems of your own too.

Toono Ririka.

P.S.

I’m sorry that my reply comes so late. There were quite a few things going on in my life as well, and I couldn’t write a reply to you right away.

I can understand about just wanting to be scolded. At times, I think that’s important. But just because you’re scolded doesn’t mean it will cast a light on the darkness of your loneliness that you carry within you. There probably isn’t any other way but for you to figure out on your own a way out of the pit of your suffering.

That’s right. To the current you, the words I want to send to you are that you don’t need to try your hardest. I can’t help but feel that you’re veering off into a different path or world. If you can think that you DON’T have to try your hardest, it puts your mind at ease, doesn’t it? In truth, humans have no need to try their hardest. When you think of it that way, strange as it may be, it actually gives one power. I think those who are unsuccessful in life are those who put too much pressure on themselves. You don’t always have to try your hardest– you can just move ahead at your own pace.

The vital force works in mysterious ways, don’t you think? I think that if it’s art that throws something at the patient, he or she gets their mind going to try to find something like a hint to live or the thread of hope, and they try to look forward.

This is something that happened about ten days ago, but I went out on my first date with that woman I told you about whom I met at the hospital. We went together to a restaurant that’s right near the Hakodate harbour and we ate dinner. And while were at the café, the second place that we went to, I asked her if she would be willing to become friends with me. This was my first time making a love confession to anyone, and it was a big gamble on my part because I was so nervous that if this was unsuccessful, I seriously doubted whether I’d be able to fall in love with anyone ever again. As for the result, that request ended with her rejecting it all too soon.

It’s hard to describe…but I felt as if I was being placed on a scale. Although I didn’t understand right away what kind of stage she was referring to when she said “in the end,” it gave me an awful feeling.

I didn’t know much about it so I did some research, and it’s a frightening disease. It’s one where the person’s muscles gradually weaken to the point that they become unable to move. It seems that although the person can lead a normal life for a short while after diagnosis, gradually they become less and less able to move, and hospitalization becomes unavoidable. Before long, the person’s legs and hands stop doing as they tell it, and they even lose their ability to speak. They even come to a state where an incision needs to be made in their throats just so that they can breathe, and in the end, the only thing left to do is wait for death. It is a disease without a cure, and apparently it is a intractable disease that no one knows the cause for.

I wracked my brain about it. In any event, I just wracked my brain about it. Every night, I couldn’t sleep, and I even ended up taking two to three days off from work. But now, I have been able to somehow get back on my feet again, and I have even been able to write a letter to you like this.

As expected, I didn’t get a reply right away. During that time, I put in numerous phone calls, and I kept conveying to her that there was no lie to my feelings. This isn’t volunteering, it’s love; that’s what I told her. Then, one day, I received a call from her saying: “I look forward to it.”

Last night, I kissed her for the first time. But— I wonder if we’ll ever get any further than that. Right now, I can’t imagine anything. I’m scared to. Everyday passes in pain. At any rate, we just take it one day at a time, and currently I am just in a state in which I am praying to God to let me see her again tomorrow. The reason why I’m saying this is because this disease has cases where the heart just suddenly stops beating.

But the one saving grace in all of this is that she is upbeat. She’s been blessed with being born with a cheerful personality. Although she knows that her own future is extremely limited, she doesn’t try to take it out on those around her. She has an attitude like that of a trainee monk, and she has come to accept her condition.

Motojirou.

P.S.

If you can understand the circumstances that didn’t allow them to raise you, I think this will lead to you being able to forgive them. It’s easy to hate, but difficult to understand. There’s no way the person who gave birth to you would forget about you. I think they probably did have their reasons for doing what they did. There’s no need for you to come to a decision right here, right now, but if you have the chance, I don’t think it would hurt you to try seeing him.

Hello Motojirou,

After reading the letter I received from you, I finally realized my own foolishness. I was even jealous of this person named Kunitani Fukino who is battling a serious illness, after all. Because you had become the lone source of emotional support on this Earth by the time I had realized it, I had become incomprehensibly jealous at the thought of you tending to Fukino-san day and night, Moto. Although we’re supposed to be true pen friends who made a promise never to meet, it felt as if I was watching a lover walk away— as if you were leaving me for someone else. I was even jealous of someone who is suffering from being face-to-face with death. Just imagining you taking kind care of her makes my heart contract with pain.

But somehow, I was able to realize my own foolishness. I’ve been able to recover to the point that I am now able to accept that you have a girlfriend. I have finally come to the point in which I can feel happy for you. Oh, what a strange story. Jealousy really is an ugly thing. The part of me that felt jealousy towards a sick person who has an incurable illness…when it comes to extremes like this, it really can be a frightening thing.

But the moment I told him that I wanted to break things off between him, his behaviour changed drastically. I told him of my intentions the end of last week, but from the very next day, I began receiving strange phone calls, and I kept my cell phone turned off on purpose because of it. But next, he began to lie in wait for me in places like the return route from the pre-school, and what really surprised me was when he was waiting for me in front of my house despite the sky still being light. I asked him “what about work?” but he yelled at me saying that didn’t matter. The look in his eyes was different—it wasn’t normal. He’s usually a mild-mannered person, but that time, he was someone who fit the expression of a “drastic change in character,” and I was scared.

I didn’t want though for us to just continue dragging this sexual relationship on, and I answered back that I wanted to have some space and time to think. That’s when he snapped and started screaming that he didn’t care if he had to throw away his family. I didn’t think he was someone like that—I thought he was much more mature and reasonable than that. I was somehow able to shake him off and return home, but he went so far as to go up to my apartment and continued banging on my door.

I didn’t start a relationship with him because I wanted to destroy that person’s family. All I wanted was warmth. I was never looking for anything more than that; I thought he knew that too. It was unexpected that he turned out to be much more childish than I ever thought. Just as you warned me, this has turned out to be quite a mess. I don’t know what I should even do. This must all be punishment for the sin that I engaged in. That’s right, this is divine punishment.

The words that there is no God or Buddha are to words of encouragement to me. However, I don’t want to become someone who relies on something like words of encouragement to live. I can live without God or Buddha. I’m not afraid of divine punishment. I also have the right to experience warmth. As long as I am alive, I have the right to take a whiff of happiness. I’m not scared of anything— even if I were to fall down to Hell, I’d be fine with that.
Yesterday on a Friday, after I had dinner with Mimei after finishing work, I went along with your recommendation (I’m sorry to put the blame on you) with a bit of alcohol to lend me some strength, and I secretly went to observe a certain person’s (I don’t want to call him my father) house in Umekaoka. That person was living with his family in a quiet residential area a seven or eight minute walk from Hanegi Park. And you know what I found? I almost felt disappointed at the cute house, and my initial reaction was surprise at the appearance of the house. The house itself wasn’t very

Chapter end