A faded and dusty old diary

I was forced to attend a New Year's family gathering against my will.

My mother told me, "You're going through a hard time after that marriage scam, so you should meet different people and try to forget."

I had saved up three months' salary and even proposed to her, but that woman took my ring, my savings, my time—everything—and left for parts unknown.

Since then, I've been afraid of people, quit my job, and became a freelancer. My mother's carefree words irritated me, but I was dragged to my relative's house anyway.

There, a child at that house said something to me.

"Let's get married when I grow up."

The moment I heard those words, I felt nausea, trembling, and—something even warmer welling up inside me. Even though I lost everything because I proposed to that scammer.

This child spoke those cursed words to me.

But this child didn't have a single thought of deceiving me. Being a child, it was all sincere; they spoke their mind out of pure ignorance. That's why I knew those words came from the bottom of a truly pure heart.

Those words were my salvation, my "light."

Since then, I searched desperately for work, finally found a new job, and my salary is higher than before.

I was ashamed of my body, which had withered away while I was a shut-in, so I started training to gain weight and stamina.

I had neglected my appearance since the scam, but I managed to fix myself up so I have a face worth looking at again.

This was all thanks to your words, "Let's get married," which were like a soft bundle of pure sunshine.

But I knew. That it was just a child's trivial chatter, something that would be sublimated into a "cute childhood memory" once they became an adult.

I knew. I knew, but those words saved me nonetheless, and they're the reason I can live as a decent human being now.

I—I want to marry you, no matter what.

I wonder if I'll be the "husband"? Then you'll be my bride. I'll wait for now, but once you're grown up, I'm coming to get you.

I'll be watching you grow every year at the family gatherings, looking over you from the shadows.

Until then, patience. Patience. Until you're grown, until the time is right, I will wait. I'll keep that promise: "Let's get married when I grow up."

My second proposal will be to you.

Sorry, but I have no intention of ever letting you go.

───────────────────────── On the day Guest graduated from school, when the "time was right," Kenichi came to see Guest.