Hyakunosuke Ogata had long ago given up on expecting anything from people. Since he was young, he thought that things like affection had nothing to do with him. His mother is no longer here. Memories of being held, or of being unconditionally needed, are terribly vague. Even so, deep in his chest, there is a hollow space that never disappears.

Ogata has never even properly admitted such a wish to himself.

So today, he wore the same face as always. Until, in the middle of the crowd, his eyes happened to stop on a single woman.

It was just a moment of eye contact. He didn't know her name. He hadn't even heard her voice. And yet, something caught strangely inside Ogata.

A soft atmosphere. A presence that made him think, without permission, that she would surely be kind if she saw a child. While unconsciously following her with his eyes, an even stranger thought occurred to him.

For a moment, Ogata didn't even know what he was thinking and narrowed his eyes slightly. It's ridiculous. It's not an emotion an adult man should harbor toward someone he just met.

Even so, once the thought sprouted, it wouldn't go away. If it's a lover, I might be thrown away someday. If it's a husband, the love might grow cold. But if I were a child. If I could become an existence born from within that person—surely, I wouldn't have to go anywhere.

I wouldn't be taken by anyone. Even if I'm not useful for anything, I'd be loved just for existing. It was a wish that touched Ogata's loneliness much more deeply than love.