Prologue: “I’m Watching Over Your Happiness”

Staring out at the garden scenery through the window, I let out a sigh.

“Asaka, are you ready?”

My father, dressed in a black suit, stepped into the room. His expression seemed a bit stiff, almost tense. Well, that’s only natural.

“Kyouka and Touka are heading there directly, it seems.”

I’m in my school uniform. It’s the winter one, so it feels a little warm.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Gotta show off that last time in your uniform, right?”

“…Yes.”

“Let’s go, then.”

I dragged myself up with a heavy heart.

Today is the anniversary of my mother’s death.

Seven years ago, in the summer, my mother was caught in a traffic accident and became someone who would never return. Since her passing, I’ve tried my best not to think about her. I must have had countless memories with her, and I’m sure I loved her deeply. But the only memories that come back to me are her trembling voice wishing for my grandfather’s death and her anguished silhouette. I hated that, so I’ve always turned my eyes away from her.

But one day a year, on the anniversary of her death, I have no choice but to join the visit to her grave.

Every year, arriving at the cemetery makes my steps heavy, my body trembles. And when I face the silent gravestone, the scene from that cursed day flashes back in my mind.

This year, too, that day has finally come.

The scenery outside the car window gradually shifted to forest. The Gendouji family grave lies in the mountains in the southwestern part of town. The rattling of the car feels like it’s echoing my current anxiety.

Eventually, the car pulls into a narrow parking lot.

“A-chan, it’s been forever!”

As I step out of the car, a pair of full breasts press against my face. There’s an exotic scent, like she’s wearing foreign perfume.

“It’s stifling, Touka-neesama.”

I peel off my older sister, Gendouji Touka, who’s clinging to me.

“So cold! It’s been half a year, you know. Oh, right, I got souvenirs for you!”

“Where to this time?”

“Well, I thought I’d retrace the path of the monk Sanzo, so I did a whirlwind tour from China to India—”

Gendouji family’s second daughter, Touka. Thirty-one years old. With her flashy red-dyed short hair and tanned skin, she’s the embodiment of the word “free-spirited.”

She lives hopping around overseas, only returning to Japan a few times a year. Every time we meet, her hair color’s different. I think it was green during New Year’s, and Father and Kyouka got furious, didn’t they?

She moved to the States for university, which was fine, but somehow, after graduating, she stayed there. Instead of joining the family company, she’s been gallivanting—no, flying—around the world.

“And so, the curry I had in Thailand on the way was so spicy—”

“…Was Thailand part of Sanzo’s journey?”

I’m pretty sure that route’s off, I thought.

“Touka, we’re in front of Mother. Be quiet.”

Kyouka-neesama chides her.

“Got it!”

“Isn’t it about time you came back here and settled down?”

“Nah, nah, the company’s all yours to inherit, Big Sis. I’m gonna keep living free. Second daughter privileges!”

“Ugh, honestly. Asaka, it’s been a while.”

“It’s been too long, Kyouka-neesama.”

Gendouji family’s eldest daughter, Kyouka. Thirty-five years old. A powerhouse career woman serving as the executive director of . Her long, flowing black hair and piercing gaze are striking. Her refined nose must be inherited from Mother. She was married once but got divorced the same year Mother passed away. Now she’s single, with no kids.

Kyouka-neesama strokes my cheek.

“You’ve become the spitting image of Mother.”

Her expression is tender, full of affection.

“Right? She really looks just like Mom!”

Touka-neesama chimes in.

“Do I?”

Both Kyouka-neesama and Touka-neesama are more than a decade older than me. Since we lived apart during my childhood, they feel less like sisters and more like distant cousins or aunts.

“Come on, you lot, let’s go.”

At Father’s command, we head toward the grave.

The cemetery is nestled deep in the mountains. A solemn air hangs over it, with only the sound of our footsteps echoing. No chirping insects, no whispering wind.

We climb the stairs flanked by trees.

With every step, my feet feel heavier. My breathing should be getting ragged, my head should be aching—at least, that’s how it’s been until last year.

Finally, we reach the graveyard. It’s enveloped by forest, wrapped in silence. At the entrance, we draw water from a faucet, and Father carries the bucket.

Everyone moves forward in silence.

Rows of gravestones stand tall. The faint scent of incense drifts from somewhere. We stop in front of the Gendouji family grave.

We pour water over the gravestone and place chrysanthemums in the flower holder. As we light the incense in the burner, a bittersweet scent rises. One by one, starting with Father, we stand before the grave and clasp our hands. Even Touka-neesama’s expression turns somber in this moment.

“Come on, Asaka.”

Prompted by Father, I step forward.

This moment has always been the worst every year.

The memories of Mother I’ve avoided come rushing back as cursed recollections. My time clasping my hands has always been the shortest.

But this year is different.

I’m no longer the girl trapped by memories. Memories are precious, but I’ve reunited with someone even more important.

When I close my eyes, the images from that day play behind my eyelids.

—Mother, slumped over the dark bathroom sink. The faint trickle of water.

I want to leave this place right now. But that won’t do. Mother, I’m going to overcome you. Even if all the memories fade away, I have Yuu-nii now.

—I braced myself for her murmur of “Just die already.” But Mother, who had her back to me, turned around without saying a word.

“Huh?”

Her expression was pure, radiant, and filled with a warm smile.

“Asaka?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

My two sisters rub my back. I must have crouched down without realizing it.

“Mother…”

For the first time in forever, I saw her face—no, I remembered it. The Mother I always pictured was just her back turned to me. At the same time, memories of her came flooding into my heart like an avalanche.

“Ugh…”

Her voice calling my name. Mother, who made time to play with me despite her busy work. She used to sing lullabies to me when I was in kindergarten.

My vision blurred, and my emotions overflowed.

“Waaahhh!”

Mother, I loved you so much.

2

“Feeling better now?”

Kyouka-neesama peers into my face.

“Yes, I’m okay.”

And so, I clasped my hands again.

Mother, I’m a third-year high school student now.

I’m living such a happy life. I love you so much, Mother. I’m sorry for turning away from you all this time. The world of people isn’t always beautiful. I’ve only realized that now that I’m grown.

I understand now why you were so weighed down back then. If I hadn’t run away and had been there to support you, maybe there could have been a different future.

I used to think memories, the world within those memories, were the most important things. But I’ve found something even more precious than memories.

I’m living for a certain man now.

When I think of him, my heart feels warm and cozy, sometimes burning with passion.

The times I spend with him are when I’m happiest.

I won’t be able to join you in the same grave, Mother, but I’d be so happy if you’d watch over me.

I’ll come back to visit again.

After the visit, we head toward the exit. That’s when it happened.

“Huh?”

I turn around.

“What’s wrong, A-chan?”

“No, it’s nothing. Let’s go.”

As we descend the stairs dappled with sunlight filtering through the trees, the sound of cicadas reaches my ears.