Chapter 17 - "Milk and Memories"
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I was sitting on the floor of my room, back against the bed, staring out the window like it owed me answers. The countdown was gone now. Four days had passed in a blur of awkward conversations, half-hearted training, and nights where I just lay awake wondering what the hell I was supposed to do next.
Something moved outside.
A small black cat had slipped through the garden fence. She had three tiny kittens trailing her—fluffy gray balls with big eyes. The mother cat settled in a patch of sunlight, rolled onto her side, and the kittens latched on immediately, tiny paws kneading her belly while they drank.
She looked so… content.
Her tail flicked lazily. Every few seconds she bent her head and licked one of the kittens behind the ears. Gentle. Patient. Happy in a way that didn't need words.
I watched them for a long time.
Then my chest tightened.
I remembered my mother.
Not the big dramatic memories. Just the small, everyday ones that hurt the most when you realize they're gone.
I was maybe fourteen. Summer break. I'd slept until noon again. She came into my room yelling.
"Kaito! It's past twelve! Do you plan to sleep your entire vacation away? Get up!"
I groaned into my pillow.
"Five more minutes…"
She yanked the curtains open. Sunlight stabbed my eyes.
"No more minutes! Up! Now!"
I sat up, hair a disaster, rubbing my face.
She stood there, hands on hips, apron still on from breakfast. Mad. But her eyes were soft underneath.
Later that day she came home from the office exhausted. I'd forgotten to eat lunch. Again.
She found me playing games in my room.
"Kaito… did you even eat?"
I shrugged. "Not hungry."
She sighed, disappeared into the kitchen, came back with a bowl of rice and grilled mackerel. Sat on the floor beside me.
"Open."
I blinked.
"Mom—"
"Open."
She picked up a piece with chopsticks and held it to my mouth.
I took it, embarrassed.
She fed me the whole bowl like that—quiet, patient, no lecture. Just making sure I ate.
Another memory. I was sixteen. No girlfriend. Never even held hands.
I sat at the kitchen table while she chopped vegetables.
"Mom… how do I get a girlfriend?"
She laughed. Not mean. Warm.
"Why ask me?"
"You're a girl. You know what girls want."
She set the knife down, turned to me.
"We don't want perfect, Kaito. We want someone who understands us. That's all."
I frowned.
"Just that?"
"Just that."
She smiled and went back to chopping.
I stared at the cat and her kittens again.
The mother licked another tiny head.
I swallowed hard.
*Mom… I'm sorry. I never told you I understood.*
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Somewhere in the past—2025.
A small apartment. Evening.
Kaito's mother sat on the couch, knees drawn up, clutching a photo frame. In the picture: Katio (maybe twelve) and His husband, both grinning like idiots at some summer festival.
She was crying quietly.
Her best friend—Mrs. Sato—sat beside her, rubbing her back.
"They're both gone," my mother whispered. "First him. Then Kaito. Am I… that bad? I gave everything. I fought with my parents. I chose him. And they both left me."
Mrs. Sato pulled her into a hug.
"You're not bad. You loved them. That's why it hurts."
Another friend—Mrs. Yamada—brought tea.
"We're here," she said softly.
His mother looked at the photo again.
Tears fell onto the glass.
Then all three women were crying together—quiet, shared grief. No words needed.
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Sakuragawa High School. A week after the lab accident.
The auditorium was packed. Students in uniforms. Teachers on stage. A big photo of Katio projected behind them—school ID picture, awkward smile.
The principal stepped to the microphone.
"After the tragic accident at the National Temporal Research Laboratory, we must announce that third-year student Kaito Aoyama… is confirmed deceased."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"But Kaito did not die worthless," the principal continued. "He protected another student during the explosion. His final act was one of courage. He will remain immortal in our memories."
A teacher stepped forward.
"We have asked the person he saved to speak."
The side door opened.
She walked in.
Silver hair tied in a simple ponytail. School uniform from another academy. Face pale. Eyes down.
She stepped to the microphone.
The room went silent.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. Voice steady, but small. "Because of me… he died. He was trying to protect me."
She bowed deeply.
No one spoke.
Then she turned and left the stage.
Outside, she walked to the parking lot where Kaito's mother waited with Mrs. Sato and Mrs. Yamada.
Mother saw her.
The silver-haired girl stopped in front of her.
Bowed again.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "He saved me. And I couldn't save him."
Mother stared at her.
Tears started again.
She wanted to be angry. To scream.
But she couldn't.
She just stood there, shaking.
Mrs. Sato put an arm around her.
The silver-haired girl bowed once more.
Then she walked away.
Mother watched her go.
And cried harder than before.
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*End*