Inochihara Kouko could always remember waking up on the living room couch. It was mid-afternoon on a Sunday, it must have been, because she was not in school. She was between ten or twelve years old, still living in her childhood home then. The couch pillow was wet with her sweat, so it distracted her nap and she tossed it towards the hall. Kouko could feel powerful doing things like throwing pillows, so she grabbed the other, despite it being clean, and tossed it far off just like the other. The two pillows quietly thumped together and then lay piled on a cool floor. In such a great mood, and wanting a cold treat to chill her overheated body, Kouko went to find her mother. 

The woman was not in the living room, nor the hallway or kitchen. Kouko went upstairs and knocked on the door to her parents' room. There was no reply. Mother was not in Kouko’s room either, which she was sometimes excited to enter in order to clean or command Kouko to clean. When Kouko closed the bathroom door on the second floor, she heard the side door, which led to the yard, close. She ran down the stairs in her socked feet and turned into the living room with a grin from ear to ear. There was her mother, sitting on the couch with her back to the hallway. 

Kouko ran up and wrapped her arms around her mothers chest, hanging from her over the back of the couch. The older woman laughed in a strange way, taking care to sniffle first. With one hand she held her daughter’s arms to her chest and with the other she wiped something from her face. 

“You surprised me Ko.” 

“I want an ice cream!” 

Her mother laughed again and gently let Kouko onto the floor while she stood. When her mother turned, Kouko could see her eyes were red, and the knees of her pants were dirty. Her long hair was hastily tied back into a ponytail which hung low. Though strands were stray and a few of the lower hairs  on her neck had escaped the binding. Kouko noticed all of this, not because she knew a thing about what it meant, but because it was not what that composed matron looked like. She seemed different. It was like she was younger, or maybe older. Kouko’s little head could not understand and so it tried to not think about it. 

Kouko’s mother took her to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of ice cream from the freezer. The daughter took it and sat at the table, happily eating spoonfuls without a care in the whole wide world. Her mother pulled a chair close to her and sat with her knees touching Kouko’s. The girl smiled, it was nice to eat so close to her mother. Kouko’s mother smiled with strain. After a few moments something in her eyes faltered. Tears came, and soon she embraced her daughter's small shoulders. The ice cream fell to the floor. Kouko was scared, but she returned the hug without knowing why her mother could not wait until she was done with her snack. 

“Ko…papa…he’s not coming back from work.” 

Her father was a cop. 

The pension was good, but since her mother was not working the remaining finances meant the two of them had to move to an apartment not long after. Kouko had to change schools, because they had moved from Yamashima to Shimogyo. Eventually, when she stopped seeing her mother cry whenever she brought up her father, Kouko asked why they had to move so far away. To a child, changing from one school to another meant living on the other side of the world. 

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” her mother said sternly. “This is just how it is.” 

They lived in that apartment for a long time. Kouko grew up and entered high school the same time her mother contracted an illness her young mind could hardly recall. She knew her mother was ill, but too many swirling emotions blinded her from the words, from understanding the exact nature beyond the mere and indecipherable fact that she was, in fact, unwell. She would come home from school and find her mother passed out on the couch, hair thinning from the mysterious treatments they had been giving her. The woman worked a full time job, but after too much time off for her illness she was eventually let go. The severance kept them afloat, and Kouko picked up a part time job as a cashier at a temple nearby. She sold fortunes to people. 

Kouko would save up whatever money that she did not give to her mother for bills. Occasionally the savings allowed her to treat her mother out to a restaurant for her birthday or just for the sake of it. Every time the older woman would laugh and stress how unnecessary it was for the girl to spend her money like that. It would be better spent on nice clothes or accessories that her friends liked. Kouko would still treat her to those dinners. Her mother started to look ten years older at that time. Her face had more wrinkles than it should have, and her remaining hair was white with age. 

“The doctors say you’re doing better lately.” 

Kouko was pushing her mother’s wheelchair through the courtyard of the hospital. She had collapsed a few days before and was in for testing. Her discharge was still a few days away, but despite the lightheaded episode that caused her fall, the woman was in remission. It was such good news that all the hours of work melted from Kouko’s shoulders. She was there, with her mother, and they would be alright. 

“Ko, if…if something happens to me…” 

“Come on, old lady, the doctors say you’ll be fine next week.” 

“But if something does, please tell me you’ll see my sister. Your aunt will take you in. I’ve already called her and let her know. She’s agreed to watch over you until you're out of school. Maybe beyond that, if it's hard on you, me being gone…”

Kouko’s joking banter fell away under her mothers low tone. 

“Okay…” 

The next day Kouko was sitting in class when she caught the eye of a boy near the chalkboard. It was only a moment, when she had looked up to answer a question her friend had asked her, but he happened to be in her line of sight and they locked eyes. Shinamura Koichi, he sat on the other side of the class so they had little reason to ever talk. In that moment, though, and despite both of them being busy with other people, they were utterly transfixed. Koichi was talking to some girl from another class who was wearing glasses. She was talking quite passionately about something or other, but Koichi was looking right past her and directly at Kouko. 

Later that day they sat on a bench outside the school.

“I want to be an engineer. Like, for planes and stuff.” 

“That’s pretty cool, do you think you can do it?” 

“I mean, I have pretty good grades, but it’ll be tough work.” 

“My mother went to college for engineering, that’s where she met my father.” 

Koichi stopped at the mention and flattened out his smile. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s up with your mom?” 

Kouko clasped her hands together in her lap, knuckles white. 

“She’s sick—but she’s getting better! The doctors say she’s in remission!” 

The word hung between them. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Inochihara.” 

“Don’t be, you know how it is, it’s really fine.” For some reason it had become harder for her to see him. Why did it feel like her chest was suddenly so tight? It became harder to breathe. She choked on the air and her hobbled voice rose a pitch until it became indistinguishable from a whine. Her eyes remained dry against the immaterial world that had engulfed her. 

Koichi wrapped his arms around her. 

“It must have been hard, Kouko.” 

The next day she was called from her class by a teacher. He led her to the guidance counselor’s office where a man in a grey suit was waiting for her. She remembered him, he was her mother’s lawyer. He took the glasses off his bald head and cleared his throat when he stood to address her. He took a slight bow and spoke in a low voice that she could almost not hear. If only he had spoken with just a decibel or two less, then his cursed words would not have had to come true on their telling. 

“Your mother passed away last night. The cancer in her lung relapsed, the head nurse couldn’t reach the surgeon because he was with another patient. I’ve already contacted you aunt, she’s on her way to pick you up. There’s no need to stay in class for the rest of the day.” 

There were an odd number of ceiling tiles. Why was that? 

“Inochihara-san?” 

“Oh, you can tell my aunt that’s not necessary. I’ll go pick my things up from home and make it to her place this evening. I have to stay in class, my mother raised me to be shrewd about my studies.” The adults stared at her while she left the room. 

On the way back to her class she pulled out her phone and saw the messages from her aunt. She must have thought Kouko would be mad. She was telling her all about what had happened. What time her mother had pressed the emergency service button on her bed, when the nurses realized it was a relapse. She even recounted how the head surgeon was working on a boy who had been hit by a car earlier in the night. There was nothing they could do as her mother breathed her last in a room full of strangers. Was she afraid? No, Kouko had never seen her mother scared of anything. 

Kouko remembered dropping her ice cream all those years before. 

“Kouko? Are you alright?” 

Without realizing it her mind had wandered while she sat next to Koichi in the burger shop. He had taken to walking her home, and they talked about some of their mutual interests—manga and the like. She was halfway through a cup of french fries when she shook herself back into the present. When she got home she had to pack a bag with clothes for the night. Her aunt would probably already be waiting for her, and they would drive to her place on the other side of town. Where did she live? Kouko only remembered that she would get off at Katsura Station, but her mother led the way and did not spare too much time explaining the logistics. Koichi was sitting close enough that she could almost feel his breath. 

“My mothers dead.” 

Was it her voice that said such a thing? It felt like she was listening to an audio drama. 

“What? How? I thought you said she was doing better?” 

“Relapse. It was so fast they couldn’t even help her.” 

Her body was covered in his warmth as he wrapped his arms around her again. He was so quick to emotion like that. It was cute, in its own way. She did not hate that about him, and she leaned into that warmth. Her mother’s face that summer day came to her through the glass storefront, and the entire world collapsed as she fell into herself. 

Kouko and Koichi passed the entrance exams for the Osaka Institute of Technology. Kouko on the basis of her studious nature, and Koichi by the talent of his profound interest in the fields he would be able to learn there. They got an apartment together near the campus and were eager to pursue university to the fullest. A year and a half in, and Kouko waited for Koichi on the couch with a small pink stick. Two lines pleaded with them to consider their future, and the discussion was far from reasonable. 

Kouko had no clue what to do. The thought alone was so unapproachable that her immediate instinct was to disregard the matter entirely. It would be possible that they qualified for the procedures based on their economic situation. They both worked part time jobs, but with classes being so demanding, most of the rent for their apartment was paid for by a split between Kouko’s aunt and Koichi’s parents. The money for the actual procedure would have to come from their own savings. Koichi argued against such a thing. Perhaps they may not have qualified and, even if they did, why should they? A life of their making would be brought into the world. Surely that was something to celebrate, not fear? 

The argument continued for the following week. Kouko decided to leave school and have the child, but Koichi would also need to drop out of his classes and get a full time job as soon as possible. Before those nine months were over, he would have to make enough money to pay for their apartment and all of their bills. Rather than lament his responsibility, Koichi hugged her with his full weight and a smile as broad as the horizon. 

“We can do this together,” he whispered. 

Kouko could almost feel her heart turn inside out. Just like that he had given up on his dreams. Just like that, nothing else mattered to him but her and that life. The singularity she felt at that moment was too much to comprehend. The world fell away and she loved him all the more. A child? She would have a child, and Koichi would be there with her. 

She did not hate the idea of motherhood, and he was so cute when he got emotional about stuff like that. They were married the following month. When the time came Koichi ran from the office and emerged into the hospital room in time to hear his daughter's first cries. Kouko remembered his disheveled hair as he heaved from the sprint. Her name was going to be Yasuko, after Kouko’s mother. Koichi had actually come up with it. 

Yasuko took her first steps while Koichi was in Taiwan on a business trip. Kouko made a video call with him and the little Yasuko was enthralled that her father was so small. She tried to run from one side of the room to her mother’s phone, but she fell on her own feet and crawled over instead. Her parents laughed with glee at the little blunder. He took time off to be there for her third birthday, and her fourth, but on her fifth he was getting ready for a promotion so he had to go where he was told. He called from Vancouver when it was already midnight for Kouko. She grilled him for it, for not calling earlier or stepping away at some point. She could almost hear him bowing in apology over the phone. He really did sound sorry. 

“Oh, fine, you win. I can’t stay mad if you’re just going to apologize like that.” 

“I am sorry, Ko.” 

“I know you are, shut up already.” 

The receiver was quiet while they listened to each other's breath. 

“I feel like I’ve made a lot of mistakes. When I get back, you know, I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Okonomiyaki!” Kouko declared. 

“So it shall be!” Though she could tell he was laughing off the statement. He did not even question why something like okonomiyaki was what she wanted as payment for the stress of raising their daughter half-alone. Her aunt could babysit, but the woman was getting older and Yasuko was getting a bit energetic for her. 

“I wish you were here…” 

Koichi did not answer her plea. 

Around seven the following morning Yasuko was horribly dismayed. She woke up and ran into her mothers room shouting for her father. She had to speak with her father. It was urgent, she had to talk to him. Kouko knew it was probably nothing serious, she was likely just missing him and wanted to hear his voice. It would already have been just after midnight for him then, but he was known to keep late nights and, even so, he was enough of a light sleeper that the phone would probably wake him up. 

But the phone rang for a long time before it was picked up. 

“What?!” 

It was a woman’s voice. 

“I’m sorry, is Shinamura there?” 

“Eh? Shinamura? This is Koichi’s phone if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Kouko gently put a hand on Yasuko’s shoulder. The little girl looked up with wide eyes.

“I’d like to speak with Koichi if he’s there.” 

“Who’s asking?” 

The tone of agitation felt like sandpaper in Kouko’s ear. 

“This is his wife.” 

Silence fell on the other side. A moment later, the woman hung up. 

He tried to make excuses. When those failed, he made accusations. It was her fault he had done those things—after all, that was not the first time by any means. He wanted to become an engineer. All that time studying and trying so hard to get into university, and she had to go and ruin it. He hated his job. He hated traveling all over the place and placating managers and clients. What about him? What about what he wanted? When his prosecution was not met with a similar passion, he grew cold and turned his back on her. His family would take him in until he got his own apartment, and their lawyer would make sure he did not suffer too much from the divorce. As for the girl, that was no longer something he wanted to waste his precious life on. When he finally left the apartment for good, Kouko was sitting on the couch with her daughter. 

Yasuko was sleeping gently in Kouko’s lap. The air conditioner had broken the day before, so it was uncomfortably warm. Kouko could feel her daughter's sweat seeping through her pants. Laundry was due anyway, so she brushed Yasuko’s hair with her fingers, pulling it from the girl's shut eyes. A breeze came in through the open patio door. The sudden gust of cool air must have disturbed her, because Yasuko slowly opened her eyes and tightly grasped her mothers leg with both hands. 

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” 

“I want to see papa.” 

Kouko could remember waking up on the couch that fargone summer day. 

“There’s nothing we can do about that now. He isn’t coming back.” 

“Why? Did I do something wrong?” 

Kouko looked at her daughter in awe. She pulled her up and hugged her tightly with all the strength in her tired body. Why was it always like that? When the needle struck the fated time, she was left with nothing but the result of her actions. The sum of others. An unfamiliar moisture welled within her throat and her eyes began to hurt. She choked on her own breath. Yasuko hugged her mother. 

She was too young to understand anything that had happened. All she knew was that what was done, was done. The apartment was different, that image of it filled with the laughter the three of them shared was now far away in some other place called memory. That was just life, and there was nothing either she or her mother could do about it. Yasuko could not understand why her father had left, or why her mother suddenly hated him so much. She could not understand that Kouko did not hate Koichi, and that her love for him remained as strong as it had been all those years before when he agreed to work for Yasuko’s sake. What mattered was not whether she loved him, or if she hated him. Kouko loved Yasuko. 

Wrapped around each other in the growing dusk, mother and daughter cried silent tears.