The living room was dark.
Quiet.
Just the sound of the wind tapping against the window and the faint glow of the computer screen still left on.
Harumi woke up half-dizzy, her head heavy from whatever ridiculous dream she'd been having.
"…I got defeated by a traffic light…"
Behind her, Takeru was still awake, sitting on the floor playing some video game.
"You said that in your sleep."
"DON'T COMMENT ON IT."
Silence.
Harumi sat up on the futon and rubbed her face.
"Okay… forget that. I still need to figure out where your mom worked, but I can't even get into the stupid website…"
Takeru looked up from his phone.
"I'll handle that part. What exactly do you need?"
She blinked.
"I just need… her last name. Or where she worked. Anything. If I can talk to her and explain the situation… she'll probably agree."
"Agree?"
"If it means taking responsibility off her name… she'll want that."
"The hard part is just… actually finding her."
Takeru went quiet for a moment.
Thinking.
"…I remember where she worked."
Harumi froze.
"…What do you mean you remember?"
"I don't remember the name. But I remember roughly where it is. I can take you there tomorrow."
Harumi's eyes widened.
"HOW DO YOU REMEMBER THAT?! DID YOU LIVE THERE?!"
He shrugged casually.
"For a little while."
Silence.
"My grandpa used to tell me that when I was born, the women there took care of me. They worked there, but… they kind of raised me too."
His voice was calm.
Natural.
Like he was just talking about some ordinary memory.
"There were small rooms above the workplace. Everybody was poor, so they took turns watching me."
He smiled faintly.
"I wasn't much trouble. So everybody liked me."
"…Those women were lucky."
"…Are you implying I'm trouble?"
"No…"
Harumi had already pulled out a tissue because she'd decided this was officially a sad story.
"I remember them being… nice."
Sniff.
"…Keep going."
"My mother still worked there back then. She fed me, took care of me when she could… she wasn't…"
He paused to think.
"…she wasn't a good mother. But she also wasn't horrible."
Harumi got even more emotional.
Then she processed what he had actually said.
"…NOT HORRIBLE?! Takeru, your standards for GOOD PEOPLE are WAY too low."
Takeru pretended not to hear her.
But he kept going.
"Then… after Mei was born…"
He took a slow breath.
"She started having serious problems. She couldn't work anymore. Eventually she lost her job because of it."
The room went quiet.
"That's why… she doesn't really like Mei very much."
Harumi lowered her eyes.
"The women there couldn't take care of her. The boss stopped allowing children there, and my mother didn't work there anymore anyway."
He leaned back against the chair.
"Since we still had one relative alive… my grandpa… we ended up going to his house. I was almost four."
"…And you never saw your mother again?"
"No."
He answered simply.
"Neither me nor Mei."
Harumi bit her lip.
"…Mei really never saw her?"
"No. When Mei was born… my mother was unconscious."
Then he suddenly remembered something.
Something one particular woman used to tell him.
"I remember one of the women saying to me, 'You got to see Mei for your mother, so treasure that memory and tell her about it someday.'"
Harumi was already completely invested in the story.
Fully emotional.
Then she processed the information.
Again.
"…You SAW Mei being born?"
"I did."
"And you DIDN'T pass out?! Or faint?! Or die emotionally?!"
"No. I was helping one of the women assisting the midwife."
"…."
"…Takeru, you've been emotionally thirty-five years old since age four."
"Thank you."
After that brief destruction of the emotional atmosphere, he continued.
"Mei stayed in the hospital for a long time… I don't remember everything clearly… but people kept whispering that she was going to be difficult."
He frowned slightly, trying to remember.
"My grandpa's caretaker was always busy with her. People said she was a troublesome baby."
Harumi stayed quiet.
Processing.
"…I also remember…"
He paused.
"A folder."
"A folder?"
"Yeah. A folder full of papers. My grandpa said it was important. I didn't know why… but it felt kind of… mysterious."
The room fell silent again.
Harumi stared at him.
Tissue in hand.
Eyes watery.
Takeru tilted his head.
"…Why are you crying?"
"BECAUSE YOU SAY ALL THIS LIKE IT'S NORMAL."
"…But it's just my life."
"THAT'S EXACTLY THE PROBLEM. THIS ISN'T NORMAL. THIS IS A REAL-LIFE HORROR STORY."
He stared at her, completely confused.
"…Do you always get emotional about this stuff?"
"ALWAYS."
Silence.
She sniffed loudly and wiped her face.
Then took a deep breath.
"Okay. Then tomorrow we go there."
"Tomorrow we go there," he confirmed.
He put away his phone and stood up.
"Mei's going to the garden anyway. We can handle it quickly and come back."
Harumi nodded.
A little nervous.
A little hopeful.
"…Takeru?"
"Hm?"
"I LOOOOOVE YOUUUUU THANK YOUUUUU—"
She launched herself directly at the poor boy.
He shrugged like it was nothing, but his entire face turned bright red.
"Go to sleep already. You need to stop fighting imaginary robots."
"I AM NOT A ROBOT!!!!!"
"Sleep."
"I'M GOING."
The lights went out.
And for the first time…
since all of this had started…
they finally had…
a path.
Small.
But real.