Days passed, one after another—weeks rolled into weeks, months into months… until five full years had gone by since Haruki's birth.
Nyoko's condition had worsened with every passing moment.
Her ability to move had become limited, and smiling—once a natural part of her daily life—was now something she could hardly manage.
She was no longer the vibrant woman who used to plant flowers with her smile wherever she went.
She had become someone nearing death, and even if she were to stay alive… she would never return to the person she once was.
And the weight of it all fell squarely on Nagisa's shoulders.
On one hand, he worked three jobs a day to cover the monthly cost of Nyoko's treatment, handling all expenses entirely on his own.
By the end of each month, his wallet would be completely empty, as if the only thing left inside was a single, restless fly—the only creature that found any reason to stay.
On the other hand, there was his wife… the love of his life, whom he watched wither away day by day, grow weaker and frailer… while he remained powerless to ease her pain.
He felt like a failure—incapable of doing anything.
He couldn't give Nyoko the happy life he had once promised her.
He couldn't even let her clearly see their son growing up before her.
All Nyoko could now see of Haruki was a small, blurry figure running toward her every.
Saturday, eager to tell her about his week, rambling on until visiting hours were over…
And she'd bid him farewell without even being able to make out the features of his face.
As for Haruki, now four years old, he spent most of his time with his grandmother, who looked after him and cared for him.
He only returned to his father when she was too tired or when Nagisa happened to have a rare day off.
But even on those days, Nagisa would spend his time either calculating bills or buried in heavy sleep, trying to recover from the exhaustion—rarely able to give his son the attention he deserved.
Then came October 12th.
To Haruki, it was just another Saturday—another visit to see his mother, something he always looked forward to with joy and excitement, ready to share his week with her.
He sat on the doorstep, struggling to put on his tiny shoes.
With the growing chill in the air, his grandmother had dressed him in a puffy purple jacket, placed a bear-shaped wool hat on his head, and wrapped a red scarf around his neck.
He looked like a little ball of yarn, clutching his stuffed bunny in one hand, his expression radiating the pure innocence of a child blissfully unaware of the world around him.
For Nagisa, however, this day was unusually joyful.
He had finally managed to gather enough money for Nyoko's spinal surgery—the operation that might allow her to walk again.
His eyes gleamed with hope, determined to do whatever it took, no matter the exhaustion or the sleepless nights, to bring his wife back into their lives, back to the simple happiness they had before Haruki's birth.
But suddenly, his phone vibrated.
Nagisa set the stack of cash—worth a full million yen—beside him and picked up the phone.
The number on the screen was unregistered, yet somehow felt strangely familiar.
He pressed the green button and was the first to speak.
"Hello, who's calling?"
When a voice came from the other end of the line, it triggered a wave of déjà vu in Nagisa's mind.
"Hello, Mr. Nagisa."
It was a gentle, feminine voice—one he had heard before, a feeling he had felt once—but his mind couldn't retrieve any memory of who the caller was.
Nagisa glanced at Haruki, standing by the door, waiting.
He took a deep breath and responded.
"Yes, what is it?"
She spoke with a trembling tone.
"We urgently need you at the hospital. It's about your wife… I'm so sorry."
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