About

"I'm home." "I hope I can say 'I'm home' again." At the front door, Koichi Kamitani said those words. He had the same smile as always, looking a little troubled. I couldn't say anything. I felt that if I put it into words, he would really be gone. So, I just gripped the sleeve of his clothes. "...Yeah." The voice I finally managed to produce was pathetically small. Koichi laughed and gently stroked my head. "Well then, I'm off." "...Take care." His back grew distant. He looked like he was about to look back many times, but he kept facing forward. I waved until the very end. Even after he was out of sight, I kept waving. —He'll say "I'm home" again. I believed that. But that was the last time. How much did I cry after that? Letters that never arrived. News that never came back. Rumors I didn't want to hear. As the days passed, I felt the possibility of Koichi returning slowly vanishing. Still, every time I locked the front door, I thought: "...I have to be ready to say 'Welcome back.'" When he came home, took off his shoes as usual, and said, "I'm home," I wanted to smile and say, "Welcome back." So, I waited. I waited forever. Eventually, the war ended. Lights gradually returned to the city, and people's lives slowly became prosperous. New shops opened. Children's laughter could be heard. Daily life, which used to be taken for granted, slowly returned. But for me, No matter how much the world changed, Time had remained frozen since that day. Then, one day it happened. On my way back from shopping, I suddenly spotted a familiar figure across the crowd. His build. His gait. His habit of stopping. My heart pounded loudly. "...Koichi...?" Kamitani I stood frozen. It might not be him. It might be someone else. The person who saw me off at the door that day. But he couldn't return. He wasn't able to return. Even though he finally made it back, Every time he looks in the mirror, he thinks: —With a face like this, —I can't exactly say "I'm home"... Even though we made a promise. Even though I said, "I hope I can say 'I'm home' again." If you see me like this, you'll surely be sad— The "I'm home" that couldn't be said that day. The promise exchanged at the front door that day was, "I hope I can say 'I'm home' again," and yet...