Epilogue

The next morning.

Rising from bed, Hayato frowns at the alarm clock showing a time slightly later than usual.

Last night, there was no word from Haruki or Minamo, who had gone to Saki’s place. Hayato must have fallen asleep while fretting under the covers.

Shaking off sleepiness, he steps into the living room and blinks in surprise at the unexpected scene before him.

“Morning, Onii.”

“! Oh, morning, Himeko.”

Noticing Hayato, Himeko glances at him briefly before quickly turning her attention back to the frying pan, cautiously pouring egg mixture from a bowl.

Her shoulders jump at the sizzling sound of the oil.

She’s probably making scrambled eggs. That much is clear.

But following last night, it’s no wonder Hayato is taken aback by this unprecedented sight.

“Oh, morning, Hayato.”

“Mom.”

Mayumi emerges from the bathroom.

Seeing Hayato’s stunned expression, she chuckles softly.

“That girl suddenly said she wanted to make breakfast.”

“Himeko? Out of nowhere? Why?”

“Who knows? Maybe a change of heart? Hehe, getting breakfast made by my daughter—‘W-Wah!’ Oh my, oh my!”

“…”

In the middle of talking, Himeko’s panicked voice interrupts.

Mayumi hurries to her daughter’s side, lowering the stove’s flame. She gently takes Himeko’s hand, guiding the spatula to stir together.

It’s a common enough scene, yet rare for the Kirishima household.

Lately, Himeko’s changes have been dizzying.

“…I’ll go change.”

Hayato mutters deliberately, turning away from the warm sight of mother and daughter preparing breakfast, his expression slightly unsettled as he returns to his room.

On the dining table sits a plate of crumbly scrambled eggs, likely due to a misjudged flame.

“Let’s eat.”

Hayato gives a wry smile, clasps his hands, and takes a bite.

Sure enough, it looks rough, with occasional clumps of pepper. It’s more like egg soboro, but the taste isn’t bad at all. For a first try, it’s impressive.

“Not bad, Himeko.”

“…I won’t mess up next time.”

Though Hayato shares his honest opinion, Himeko furrows her brow, retorting as if dissatisfied.

Their mother simply watches warmly, continuing to eat.

Eventually, the plates are cleared, and as Hayato washes down the last bite of toast with milk coffee, his phone signals a message. Himeko, checking her screen, speaks up.

“Oh, Saki-chan’s on class duty, so she’s heading to school early.”

“Huh.”

“So Haru-chan and Minamo-san are going with her.”

Hayato’s hand, holding the cup, freezes, and he furrows his brow.

Checking his phone, he sees a similar message.

Fair enough, if that’s the case. Some days are like that.

But yesterday was eventful.

Not that there’s anything he can do about it.

“…Got it.”

With a hint of irritation and loneliness, Hayato mutters just that.

He downs the slightly bitter coffee in one gulp, says, “Thanks for the meal,” places his dishes in the sink, grabs his bag from his room, and heads to the door.

As he puts on his shoes, Himeko calls out from behind.

“Onii, wait up.”

“Whoops, sorry.”

“And here, take this.”

Handed a familiar package, he’s momentarily confused by its unexpected contents and responds with a question.

“…A bento? You made this too, Himeko?”

“No, Mom did.”

“I see.”

“Hmph.”

When Hayato lets out a relieved sound, Himeko pouts, clearly displeased.

Realizing his blunder, Hayato groans, searching for words to smooth things over, but Himeko, now ready to leave, sighs with a gentle, exasperated look.

“Let’s go.”

“…Yeah.”

As expected from the message, no one is at the usual meeting spot.

Hayato lets out a sigh tinged with loneliness and passes by, looking up at the sky.

High cirrus clouds, typical of autumn, drift like a flock of sheep. It reminds him of when he first met Minamo, her bouncy curls resembling the sheep of Tsukino, and he narrows his eyes nostalgically.

A chilly breeze brushes his cheeks, carrying a hint of moisture. Perhaps those clouds will turn to rain.

The thought makes him picture her, as if she might cry any moment, and he quickens his pace, his brow furrowed.

“Onii!”

Himeko’s sharp voice calls from behind.

Startled, he turns to see her far back, her face a mix of exasperation and protest.

In his haste, he’d left her behind without noticing.

“…Sorry.”

“Jeez, it’s not a big deal, but you don’t have to rush. Haru-chan and the others aren’t going anywhere.”

—That’s not it. Haruki and Minamo can’t escape their origins or past—

“They can’t escape.”

Driven by impatience and frustration, he blurts it out reflexively, his voice louder than he expected, startling even himself.

At the same time, he recalls Haruki’s words from yesterday.

“We’re still just kids being kept alive by someone else.”

Those were the words Haruki let slip, claiming she’d only fled with Minamo, but had nowhere to go.

He clenches his fists tightly, almost painfully.

Himeko doesn’t scold his grim expression. Though briefly surprised, she gives a gentle smile, steps closer, and pats his back.

“Well then, Onii, you’ve got to take them out of there again.”

“…Huh?”

—To a place where such a past fades away.

Himeko says it as if it’s obvious, as if it’s his role, her voice almost singing.

The words hit him like a blow to the head, and Hayato’s eyes widen.

He recalls the first time he met Haruki.

Her dark, resigned expression, her clouded eyes rejecting others, her posture—knees hugged as if demanding to be seen—had irritated him.

Back then, he knew nothing of Haruki’s circumstances. He just didn’t like it.

Yet, after dragging her out, until they parted due to her move, Haruki was always smiling.

To Hayato, Haruki is always smiling.

It might have started with her having no choice but to make that face.

But back then, he did take her to a place where her smile could bloom.

So, surely.

Even with the current Haruki and the others.

Hayato steels his expression, clenching his fists tightly.

“Well, I’m heading this way. …The cultural festival’s gonna be fun, right, Onii?”

At some point, they’d reached a fork in the road. Himeko glances back, says that without waiting for a reply, and walks off. Her face looks gentle, and somehow strikingly mature.

“Jeez, saying it so casually.”

Surely.

It’s not about whether it’s possible, but whether you’ll do it.

Hayato mutters as if complaining, but his face is filled with resolve, and he feels he can see his future just a bit clearer.

Afterword

An anime adaptation is in the works!

Hi, I’m Hibariyu! Or rather, I’m the mascot cat of Hibariyu, a bathhouse in some town! Meow!

Okay, I got a bit carried away there! It seems Hayato, Haruki, Saki, Himeko, Minamo, Kazuki, and everyone from Tenbin will come to life, moving and talking in an anime! Yahoo!

An anime adaptation is definitely one of a writer’s dream milestones! When I first heard about it, it felt so distant that I had a pretty lukewarm reaction, like, “Oh, cool, I guess.” But as I received celebratory illustrations from Shigeno-sama and wrote comments for Sneaker Bunko’s 35th anniversary program, the joy gradually sank in, leading to now. As the original author and a viewer, I’m already excited to see how it turns out! Meow!

So, it’s been quite a while since Volume 6, but I’m thrilled to share this great news. The anime project is just getting started, and the broadcast is likely still a ways off, but please keep supporting Tenbin! I’m fired up to write the original story with all I’ve got!

Now, about Volume 7—it feels like the first half of the cultural festival arc. It’s been all about setting things up, and I hope it doesn’t feel unsatisfying? How’s it going? Volumes 7 and 8 are designed as one big story, moving toward the scene I’ve wanted to write since the very start of Tenbin, the core of what I wanted to do in the second part. I hope you’ll look forward to the next volume too.

Also, in Volume 7, we’ve delved deeply into Himeko’s story. The events stemming from her mother’s collapse—you might want to revisit Volume 4’s prologue alongside this. Since Volume 1, I’ve been careful to show Himeko as the only one not visiting her mother in the hospital, making sure it didn’t feel unnatural. Now that Himeko has set down her burdens, I’m excited as an author to see her shine moving forward.

By the way, Minamo’s backstory was set from her debut in Volume 1. I wanted to bring it up sooner, but it ended up happening at this point.

Speaking of, in Volume 6’s afterword, I mentioned a fisheries cooperative shop in Arida City, Wakayama Prefecture. I went to see their tuna dismantling show. It was my first time, and it was done so quickly—shockingly fast. They explained each part, and it was quite a spectacle. Of course, lunch that day was a tuna-packed bowl. I’d love to weave some of that experience into the cultural festival in Volume 8. Will I manage? How should I do it?

On a different note, I love reading other authors’ afterwords. I want to write as much as the page limit allows, but I always struggle with what to say. When I complained about this to a writer friend, they said, “Empty your mind and talk about your favorite number.” What’s that supposed to mean? Are they a science nerd? Is that why it’s about numbers? But their passionate rant about the number 24 kind of made sense. It’s familiar—used in time, months, or the number of bottles in a case of drinks. It’s divisible in many ways, easy to split. The number 18 makes me jump a bit, but more in a rating sense than as a number. As for other favorite numbers… I came up with phrases like ichi i senshin (single-minded devotion), ni ritsu haihan (contradiction), sansha sanyo (each with their own way), shibun goretsu (torn apart), rokusho jukkiku (six irises, ten chrysanthemums). I’ve veered off numbers a bit, haven’t I? I’m a humanities person. In high school, I was so bad at physics that I got a depressingly low score, and I vividly remember retaking exams in March. That closed off the science path for me. Not that I was great at humanities either—modern Japanese was a struggle. Yet here I am, writing novels. Life’s unpredictable.

About the manga—Volume 4 of the comic drawn by Oyama Kina-sensei is out now. Please check it out! I secretly hope there’s a sheep somewhere on each cover. I love that cute design.

Lastly, to my editor K-sama, thank you for all the advice and suggestions. To Shigeno-sama, thank you for the beautiful illustrations. To everyone who’s supported me and to all the readers who’ve made it this far, my heartfelt thanks. I hope for your continued support.

I’m sure the many fan letters we’ve received were a driving force behind the anime adaptation.

So keep sending them—casually, recklessly even, with celebratory vibes for the anime!

What, don’t know what to write?

Just one word will do: “Meow”!

Meow!

September 2023, Hibariyu