I opened the door to my home with a loose grip and kept my eyes down towards the floor as I entered. I took my coat, now dressed in a light layer of snow, and put it on the nearby rack while using my feet to remove my shoes.

Tired.

It was the only thought I could muster after biking back from the hospital. Using my foot to push my shoes to the side, I made my way towards the stairs that led to the bedrooms, but stopped short of the first step when I noticed the door next to the steps that led to the living room was wide open.

Did I leave that open?

I kept my eyes on the open doorway leading to the dark room for a minute before my body turned towards it and I passed through it. After entering the room, I reached for the nearby light switch and flipped it. I stood there and stared with half-lidded eyes as light filled the empty room. The emptiness itself was nothing new to me, as I tended to be the first one home even with my club activities, but tonight that emptiness felt much more discomforting than usual.

I want to sleep. I just want today to end.

Even in the company of silence, I felt like I was coming home to an unwanted guest rather than an old friend. It wasn't like I didn't know why I'd suddenly had a change of heart about my state of loneliness here; why I suddenly didn't feel comfortable with the lack of activity in the house I was always so quick to cling to when the possibility of going out for a day off came around. It was because it was always going to be this way now.

As a sick feeling began to take root in the pit of my stomach, I turned to flip the light switch back off and make my way up to the bedrooms, but something caught my eye before I could. Looking at the couch, I could see a small rectangular device sitting atop one of the cushions and walked over to investigate it. I picked up the object and flipped it over in my hand. The familiarity of the weight in my hand allowed my exhausted mind to register that I was, in fact, looking at my own phone. But just as the weight of it in my hand was familiar, so too was the weight I could feel in my pocket. Confused at the contradiction, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a similar yet not as familiar device and looked at it in my other hand. It was Komachi's phone. I could see my reflection stare back at me the dark screen and, as I looked at my own tired face, I recalled the events that had occurred earlier that night.

It wasn't long before the doctor and his team rushed through the door. The nurse who I'd spoken to earlier urged me to move back and I did. I tried to watch what they were doing at first, but in between the movements of the nurses, I caught glimpses of her face and would have to look away to keep the contents of my stomach in check. Eventually, I just turned around completely and put my arm up against the wall to support myself as tears streamed down my face. With my vision cleared of all the commotion behind me, however, the image of her lifeless face forced itself into my mind.

Why…? Why her?

I asked internally, not knowing who would answer or who could answer.

Why? Why does she have to go? I disappear all the time, so why not me? No one would even notice… but her…

I shut my eyes tight.

No. It's not about them, it's about me. What am I going to do without her? What am I going to do if she's not-

I jumped a bit as a hand gently grasped my shoulder. I looked up from my hunched position to see the doctor standing behind me with his eyes cast down. His face was different from when I saw him earlier: it was still sad, but it was like he was actually sad himself rather than just for my sake. I knew why. A professional only had one reason to be sad themselves: they couldn't complete their job.

"I'm sorry."

I wanted to tell him not to apologize. To tell me what could still be done, but I knew better. People don't apologize for something that's going to happen; they apologize for things that have already passed. I looked back towards the floor and felt his hand leave my shoulder as he turned to leave. I heard the nurses all shuffle out of the room along with a couple of the machines rolling out beside them. I just stayed in my corner, hoping that if I avoided it long enough, the reality behind me would change.

I don't know how long it was before I heard the door open again, but, figuring it was another nurse coming to collect equipment, I didn't bother to look up at whoever had entered.

"Komachi…?"

It was spoken at just above a whisper, but it still echoed in my ears. I may not have talked to her much in recent years, but I could still recognize the voice of my own mom. I turned to look at the doorway and, sure enough, both my parents stood just barely inside the room with their eyes locked on to the bed.

"Is…" She swallowed before turning to meet my gaze. "Is she…?"

I looked away. My parents and I hadn't had a real conversation in nearly four years. How was I supposed to say anything to them now? I didn't blame them. I could never blame them for trusting me to be the older brother of the house while they worked, but that was exactly why I couldn't look. I was supposed to protect her. It was my only job at the house and I couldn't even do it. So how could I say anything now?

Still, my parents understood what my silence implied and they both moved to the seats next to Komachi without saying another word. I was still terrified of facing them, so I remained where I was.

They probably can't stand to face me either…

I should go.

I stood up from leaning against the wall and moved towards the door, but before I stepped through it, I turned back towards the middle of the room. My dad was holding my mom in his arms as they both cried beside the bed, but they did so without making any noise as if they were trying to hide their grief despite no one being around. My dad looked towards me and, seeing that I was poised to leave the room, gave me a nod before turning back to look at the bed. I looked at it too for the first time since the doctor's team had left and saw Komachi still lying in it. Her eyes were closed now, but she was still unnaturally motionless. I looked at the rest of her face and saw something that shouldn't have been there. With the mask removed, the rest of her face was much easier to see and the spot that caught my interest was her mouth, specifically her lips that were still maintaining a shape despite the rest of her body looking entirely relaxed.

She's smiling?

It wasn't a huge grin, but I could've sworn I saw the slightest curve in her lips not unlike the smile she'd shown me earlier.

What was that?

I turned away and quickly left the room.

Smiling? What, you think she's happy that she died? Is that what you want?!

My pace quickened as I continued down the hallway towards the hospital's exit, keeping my head slightly lowered.

This isn't a fucking novel! It wasn't some heroic play! She died…

I weaved around the other people in the lobby and made my way through the entrance into the freezing night air.

She died… because you let her.

I stopped spacing out when I saw my reflection distorted by a single droplet on the screen. At this point, my tears already had a set path to follow from my eyes and down my cheeks. I looked up at the ceiling and quickly wiped my cheeks with my sleeve before looking back down and wiping the screen as well. My grip on her phone had gotten tighter without me noticing, but rather than loosening it, I clutched it even harder and brought it close to my chest.

You should have just gone out to meet her. You could have stopped her when she stepped out into the street. Why didn't you just meet her on your way back? Why didn't you know something was wrong when she wasn't home?

My vision became unfocused as I questioned myself; wondering why I didn't care enough to get worried before it was too late.

Is that it? Did you just not care enough? No…You've always cared. So why? Why didn't you worry?

I could feel my heartbeat in my head and another sick feeling take root in my stomach. These sensations urged me to go lie down, so I flipped the light switch for the living room back off, closed the door behind me, and made my way upstairs towards the bedrooms.

Why?

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and opened the door to my room. With the moon covered by the remaining clouds in the sky, the room was dark and hard to see in, but I didn't bother with the light switch. Instead, I just slowly walked towards my bedside. Noticing I was still clutching Komachi's phone, I put it down on my desk and then reached into my pocket to put my own phone next to it. I still couldn't see very well, but I stared at the spot where I'd put the two phones for a while before getting into bed. Despite the heater in my room keeping it at a comfortable temperature, I immediately felt cold as I laid down and pulled the cover up to my neck while laying on my side.

I wish it was just a dream. I want to wake up tomorrow to the sound of her yelling from the living room that breakfast is ready.

I closed my eyes as the memories of all the times those events played out on a school morning came back to me. I recalled the slightly whiny tone of voice she used when calling for me, much like a mother might use with their lazy kid.

Only she could be that annoying so early in the morning.

I smiled at the thought, but that smile quickly turned into a pained one as tears began building up in my eyes again and my breath got stuck in my throat.

I'd give anything…anything to hear her again. To see her again…

Why couldn't you have just traded yourself for her? Why didn't you do anything to protect what you had with her?

This time, the tears found a new path across my face.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

My eyes shot open at the blaring noise coming from beside my bed. I didn't feel rested in the least and that fact combined with the rude awakening made for an awful start to my day.

Feels like my alarm is even louder than usual. It's definitely more annoying than usual.

I blinked slowly, but my vision was still a bit hazy from having just woken up. After a moment of lying there, simultaneously trying to get my tired mind into gear and hoping that the alarm would silence itself somehow, I heaved a sigh and propped my torso up on one arm while reaching over to my phone with the other. I felt around my desk before my fingers touched the familiar texture of my phone screen and I grabbed it. As I adjusted my grip on the phone to use it, however, something felt off.

*BEEP* *BEEP*

It's not my phone?

As I held the device in my hand, I noticed that neither the volume nor the direction of the sound had changed. With my vision and mind cleared a bit more, I looked over towards my desk to see another phone with its screen lit up and a small, animated alarm clock jumping up and down on the screen.

Her phone? What's that doing…?

My thoughts came to a halt as I realized the meaning of the phone sitting on my desk.

Not a dream, huh…

I was still a bit drowsy, but that didn't stop the memories of yesterday's events from clearing up and coming to the forefront of my mind. I sat there with my eyes unfocused while I thought about yesterday and all the emotions I'd experienced in the span of four hours.

*BEEP* *BEEP*

Luckily, I didn't have time to relive every moment of yesterday since the alarm still going off in front of me demanded my attention. I reached out and replaced my phone with hers before bringing the screen in front of my face. I hit the "Dismiss" button beneath the alarm clock which caused the phone to go to the lock screen. Something else on the screen caught my eye before I could put her phone back on my desk however.

6:45?

The time displayed on screen was one I hadn't been awake to see in a long time. Even on days where I actually got up at the sound of my own alarm rather than silencing it in an attempt to enjoy some more time in the comfort of my bed, I still got up at 7:30 and would have plenty of time to make it to school as long as I left my room within ten minutes. She may not have had a bike to get to school like I did, but her middle school was close enough to the house that her commute shouldn't have been that much longer.

So this is how early she had to get up to make breakfast.

I thought back to all the mornings I'd lazily walked to the dining table and just plopped myself in my usual seat without a thought for what was going on in the kitchen.

I wish I could go back and punch that idiot who let his little sister be his parent.

My eyes began to sting and I clenched my teeth as the frustration and anger I felt threatened to explode, but the anger soon gave way to sadness as I thought more about the mornings I'd gotten so used to.

I wish I could go back.

I turned the phone's screen off and put it back on my desk before turning away from it and pulling the covers back over me. It wasn't the time I normally woke up anyways, but I couldn't find the energy to move my body off of the mattress at all. It was Wednesday, which meant that school would be an issue, but the worry over my attendance record felt stupidly small.

Can't even get out of bed properly without her help, so why bother?

At that thought, I flipped back over in my bed to face my desk and reach towards it again. This time, however, I grabbed my own phone and navigated to the alarm tool. I turned the alarm that was set to ring at 7:30 off before returning the phone to my desk. With my task accomplished, I turned back away from the desk and closed my eyes, hoping to hold back the tears that had been trying to come out for the past few minutes.

I wish I could go back…

I woke up again sometime later, but I was still just as tired as before. This time, however, I felt inexplicably thirsty on top of feeling groggy. With my thirst eventually overwhelming my lazy desire to stay in bed, I got up and made my way out into the hallway and towards the washroom.

I'll just drink some water from the sink there. Maybe washing my face will help clear my head up too.

As I slowly walked down the hall, I heard a noise come from downstairs before I turned away from the stairs to head towards the washroom. Once in the washroom, I turned on the faucet and cupped some water in my hands to splash my face with and then used the nearby cup that was normally used for rinsing after brushing my teeth to drink some water from the tap.

Still feel out of it… Maybe I should just go back to sleep?

I stepped out of the washroom and walked back towards my bedroom door. Just before I could reach out for the doorknob, I heard another, now distinctly metallic, noise come from downstairs and this time it got my attention.

Is someone cooking?

I stood there for a moment and then heard a couple more noises that I recognized as the sound of some sort of cooking utensil and a pan being used. The noises confused my still muddled head and I tried to sort out their meaning in my thoughts.

Those two barely cook… even when they do, it's on weekends or holidays. Today's… Wednesday? I think? So who's…

My eyes widened before I could even finish the thought and I bolted away from my door towards the stairway. My mind felt much sharper now and I was pushing it and my body as hard as I could despite the short distance I was traveling. I almost jumped when I reached the last step and grabbed the handle for the door to the living room to yank it open. Apparently doing even this much so early in the morning was hard on me because I had to hunch over a bit to catch my breath. It also may have caused too much blood to flow to my head because even my ears had begun to ring from it. My breathing almost stopped, however, when I looked up towards the kitchen and saw someone standing there.

It was a girl about a head shorter than me wearing a sailor school uniform under an apron. Her back was to me as she was cutting up some vegetables on the counter opposite the stove, but I could still see her dark-colored, shoulder length hair with a single strand sticking out the top in an unnatural way. There was no mistaking who I was looking at, but I still had to confirm it.

"Komachi…?"

I stared at her, hoping for a reaction to prove me right, but while I thought I could see the side of her face move like she was talking, I didn't hear anything from her direction.

She heard me… right? She definitely did, but… maybe I just didn't hear her…? Stupid ringing…

I moved away from the doorway and towards the kitchen counter. My breathing was under control at this point, but the ringing in my ears persisted, only making it harder to try and make out her voice. I moved around the side of the counter and could now see more of the side of her face. She was still looking down at the vegetables in front of her, but I could see without a doubt that her mouth was moving.

What? Why… Why can't I hear her? What's this ringing…

I was confused and starting to get a little agitated over my own ears' inability to pick up the noise I was hoping for. The sounds of something frying and the vegetables being chopped were clear enough, but I couldn't make out her voice behind it at all.

She's right there, so why?

I was starting to panic. It didn't make sense to me and I was getting desperate to confirm what I was seeing. I increased my pace to try and get even closer to her until I was within arm's reach.

"Komachi."

I called out again, but she still didn't look my way. I reached out my hand to grasp her shoulder and once I saw my hand clearly holding it, I put what was probably a little too much force into it as I pulled her towards me and wrapped both my arms around her. I felt her jump a little in surprise at my sudden hug, but I would have to apologize for that later.

"Komachi…"

I can feel her. She's right here. I can even feel her talking, so why?

I tightened my embrace, but I could still only hear the ringing in my ears as it seemed to get louder.

Why can't I hear her?!

I wanted to scream the question, but I held back for fear of startling her further. Instead, I loosened my grip and took a step back to try and look her in the eyes and see if she was still trying to speak to me.

"Komachi. Can you hear-?"

I froze. I was looking at her head-on now and could clearly make out her face. Her mouth had stopped moving and her closed lips were now curved upwards into a smile, but that wasn't what shocked me. It was her eyes. They were open and they looked towards my own, but there was no light in them and they seemed unfocused; like she wasn't really looking at me.

It was the same look she'd had back at the hospital.

The ringing in my ears grew louder and louder as I realized it wasn't just some temporary tinnitus I was experiencing.

The heart rate monitor…

I knew then that this wasn't real; that I was looking at a creation of my own mind, but I didn't care. I tried to reach back out and embrace her again, but she had somehow moved out of my reach.

Please…

I cried out in my mind while my eyes filled with tears. I knew it wasn't real, but I just wanted to hold her; to hear her again. She only continued to get farther away and, as I desperately grabbed at her, I felt myself lose balance and start falling towards the floor.

Come back.

"HAH!"

I awoke with the lingering feeling of falling startling me. The sensation caused me to sit up in bed. My breathing was quick and ragged as I tried to recover from the shock. After I got it under control, I noticed my eyes were irritated. I used my hands to try and rub out whatever was causing problems and I felt something dry and almost crusty. It seemed that some of my tears hadn't left my eyes fully before drying up and were now gathered around my eyelids and eyelashes. I checked around my eyes and cheeks and felt some remnants of dried tears there as well.

After using my hands to wipe my face a bit more, I recalled parts of the dream I'd had before my sudden awakening.

She was right there.

I looked at my hands, hoping to recall the sensation I'd felt of holding her in my arms, but I couldn't. I considered trying to fall back asleep in an attempt to go back to my imagined world, but the startling manner in which I'd woken up had cleared away any drowsiness. All I could do was take a deep, shaky breath while I thought about the dream itself. Images of it flashed through my head, but no matter how hard I thought about it, I couldn't recall anything clearly. Instead, all I could see was the wall beyond the foot of my bed as I stared into it.

What time is it anyway?

I reached out towards my phone and pressed the power button to check the time.

11:52

I couldn't remember the last time I'd gotten so close to skipping the entire morning, especially on a school day. There were certainly days I felt like I could've slept in forever, but I'd usually be woken up by a noise from outside my room or downstairs. I sat there quietly and listened, but there wasn't anything to hear this time. The house was silent.

While I sat there, more moments from my dream came to mind. I recalled the noises I'd heard from downstairs, the urgency I felt when I rushed towards the kitchen, and the view I had from the doorway of her. I closed my eyes to try and immerse myself in that vision, but trying only seemed to make it harder to maintain the image and soon the only thing I could see was the dark interior of my eyelids. I opened my eyes and blinked a few times, now somewhat more conscious of both my surroundings and myself. Despite the attempts to wipe my face clean of them, I could still feel the dried tears surrounding my eyes and trailing around my cheeks. The sensation on my face was unpleasant, but the silence I'd become aware of bothered me more, so I returned my phone and removed myself from the bed. After letting my legs get adjusted to standing again, I made my way towards the door with the intent of cleaning my face properly.

I went into the washroom and splashed my face with the cool tap water, then wiped around my eyes and cheeks before drying my face and hands with the nearby towel. After I returned the towel to its rack, I looked up into the mirror above the sink. My eyes still looked as unfriendly as ever, but today I could also make out distinctly dark spots under each eye and a residual bloodshot appearance in the eyes themselves. The rest of my face looked the same now that I'd washed it, but then I looked below it.

Oh.

I was surprised enough to have that distinct thought pop up in my mind because as I looked down to my neck and my shoulders, I saw that I was still wearing part of my uniform. The dark jacket that usually adorned my upper body as part of the winter uniform wasn't there, but I was still wearing the white button-up shirt and black pants.

Guess I just didn't notice.

I looked away from the mirror down towards my own body to see the uniform for myself. From this angle, I could see some distinct wrinkles in the shirt around the hem that was usually tucked into my pants. Seeing these wrinkles, the annoyed face of my sister as she complained about having such a mess of a brother and scolded me came to mind. I smiled to myself at the memory.

My bad…

I used one of my hands to try and smooth out some of the wrinkles, but it wasn't a very effective method. I felt the smile leave my face and had to blink a few times to alleviate the irritation caused by my eyes beginning to tear up.

I really was a mess…

Before I couldn't hold them in anymore, I quickly looked back up and took a deep breath to calm myself. Then I used the towel to wipe my face one more time before I left the washroom to go change clothes.

Having changed into something more comfortable, I left my room and made my way down the stairs that led to the kitchen door. Seeing the end of the staircase slowly approach as I took each step, I was once again reminded of my dream. I reached the last step and turned to open the door to the living room, but stopped just short of grabbing the doorknob. Instead, I got closer to the door and turned my ear towards it, but, as expected, it was silent.

I opened the door and looked around inside, starting with the kitchen, but couldn't see anyone. I entered the room and that's when a piece of paper sitting on the dining table caught my eye. I got close enough to see that my name had been written at the top, so I picked up the paper to read its contents in full.

"Hachiman,

Your dad and I are taking the next two days off to make arrangements for the funeral. We don't know when we'll be able to hold the service exactly, but we've agreed to have it this weekend if possible. Your father already contacted Komachi's school to inform them of what happened, but your school only knows that you won't be coming to class today and potentially tomorrow. It's possible that some people there may know anyways, but we wanted to leave it up to you to decide who to tell. We've trusted you to take care of yourself so far, so we thought it only fair to trust you in that matter as well.

We both love you very much, Hachiman.

-Your mom and dad"

The silence that persisted almost made it feel like time had slowed for me as I read the letter. Even so, it took me a moment to process its contents.

Funeral…Right. Hadn't even crossed my mind.

I thought back to the hospital where I'd last seen my parents. At the time, I thought that they would blame me just like I did myself, but maybe I was wrong.

Or maybe not…

Typical. All of you experienced the same loss, but you didn't think of them, did you? No, you worried about yourself… even made them worry for you… just like always…

It seemed like no matter how much I wanted to think of myself as self-reliant, it always ended up like this. It just took the loss of one of those I weighed down for me to realize just how pathetic I was on my own.

Starting to feel sick in the stomach with the realization of my worthlessness, I put the paper down and moved over to the couch. I laid down on my back and stared at the ceiling while the vague feeling of sickness kept me from feeling completely relaxed. I continued laying there until the uncomfortableness caused by my stomach subsided or at least began to feel more natural. As it did, I became very conscious of something I'd become familiar with over the years. Something that, only yesterday, comforted me as I laid in this exact spot. Something that I'd even treated as an associate who accompanied me in all my lonesome hours. That something was silence. And I absolutely hated it.

I was still feeling sick, but now I at least had the motivation to try and distract myself from this unwanted guest. When it came to killing time and distracting myself, the first idea I had was to simply do what I did in the Service Club.

Come to think of it, I don't think I brought my bag up to my room yesterday.

I looked around the couch and, sure enough, my bag was sitting on the floor on the opposite end of the couch from me. I sat up, reached over the edge of the couch to grab the bag, then laid back down on my side with the bag sitting near my head on the floor. I retrieved my novel and turned onto my back again to get comfortable before opening the book at the page I'd marked yesterday. I sifted through the page with my eyes to find where it was I'd left off last time and, after finding the section I hadn't gotten to yet, I immediately began to read through it.

Or at least I tried to. I tried to get immersed into the story of my novel like I was normally able to, but something kept pulling me out of it. I couldn't make it through the first couple lines before glancing away at the rest of the room. There was nothing there every time I checked, but that's exactly what was getting to me. Reading had always been one of the ways I enjoyed my private time, but I realized then that it had been a while since I'd been truly alone while reading. Whether I was in class during a break, in the club room after classes, or at home with her, someone had always been around even if they paid me no mind.

But of course, it was still here. Its presence feeling more and more overbearing than comforting since yesterday. While I had thought of a distraction from it, I hadn't actually solved the problem of the unwanted guest. It didn't take me long to think of a solution that would still allow me to read though, so I got up from the couch and went upstairs to retrieve my phone. Having grabbed it and returned, I went over to my bag to retrieve the earbuds from within.

Now equipped with all the tools I needed, I laid back down on the couch, but this time positioned so that I was facing the curtained window next to the couch rather than the rest of the room. I wasn't worried about what music to listen to or what would help me enjoy the book more. I just needed something to help me ignore reality for a while, so I put on my usual playlist and put the headphones on.

With the music probably turned up a bit too high to be completely safe for my ears and my vision mostly occupied by the set of curtains covering the window, I grabbed my book and got back to where I'd left off.

I looked up from my book to see that the sunlight peeking through the window curtains had taken on an orange tint at some point. I looked to my left at the clock sitting on the wall. It wasn't even six o'clock yet, but it wasn't uncommon to get these early sunsets on winter nights. At this point, the sunlight that did make it through wasn't enough to allow me to read comfortably and turning on the lights would require that I move from the couch anyways, so I closed my book and took my headphones off. My ears rang slightly. Probably a combination of how high I had the volume turned up and just how long I'd been listening for. I unplugged the headphones and then placed both it and the book back into my school bag. I sat up on the couch and stretched my back a bit to loosen it up. The stretching forced a yawn out of me and, as it ended, I suddenly felt tired.

Really? You sleep in until noon and then spend hours on the couch and now you're tired? What, being pathetic wasn't enough, you're a sloth too now?

…

I had to take a moment after that thought to process it. I was honestly a little surprised at myself. I'd learned that self-depricating humor was a great disarming tool when conversing with people that I wasn't fond of, but that was different from just having a naturally negative opinion of myself.

Was that even the first one today?

I could recall at least one other instance this morning where I'd had a similar thought without thinking too much of it. This moment of self-reflection did get me thinking about my own mental state, but it was just a moment. Instead, there was only one thought that came to me.

Well, it's all true anyways.

*click*

A noise from the hallway got my attention.

"We're home."

I instantly recognized the voice as that of my mom's, but I couldn't hide the surprise on my face at hearing her enter. It wasn't long after that I heard the handle on the kitchen door turn and, as I looked towards the door, she entered. She was wearing a black coat over a white blouse and a straight, black skirt; essentially her work clothes. Though I noticed none of the accessories she usually wore were on her. She flipped the lightswitch and then moved towards the table with a couple of plastic bags in her hands. My dad entered after her, similarly dressed in a black suit jacket over a white shirt and black tie with matching black pants. He stopped just as he entered and looked around before his gaze landed on me. It had always been hard to read his expressions, particularly after he returned from a long day of work, but today his eyes betrayed a kind of fatigue I'd never seen before. It didn't seem like physical exhaustion. More like his eyes were still tired from whatever had already exhausted him even if the rest of his face didn't show the same weariness.. He continued to look at me without saying anything, but I realized I too had just been staring.

"Welcome home."

My voice was a bit softer than I'd intended, but I hadn't spoken all day and was still feeling tired, so that was expected. It did catch my mom's attention as she turned her head to face me with a hint of surprise.

"Oh, Hachiman. I didn't expect to see you down here."

She gave me a small smile and then looked down to my school bag still sitting on the floor.

"Sorry, did we interrupt something?"

"No."

I looked down towards my bag as well. My voice was still low.

"I was just reading."

I felt a bit of shame in admitting that I'd basically accomplished nothing all day while they were out taking care of everything, but apparently she didn't feel the same.

"I see. That's good."

Huh?

I looked back up at her to see her giving me a small smile.

"I was worried you might've stayed in your room all day."

I looked away.

"Worried"? Really…

I knew she hadn't said it to make me feel bad about worrying her, but the fact remained that they were handling everything and still thought about me in the middle of all that. After a brief silence, she spoke up again.

"Well, we decided to just pick up some donburi on the way home. I know it's not much, but-"

"It's fine."

I felt bad about cutting her off, but I couldn't handle her being so considerate of me.

"Anything's fine."

It's more than I deserve anyways.

She nodded slightly before turning back towards the table and opening the bags.

"I'll start setting the food up. Hachiman you can take a seat there and we'll start eating once your dad and I put our stuff down and clean up a bit upstairs."

I stood up from the couch.

"I can put out the food. You two go ahead."

I kept my eyes on the bags sitting on the table as I walked over to them. I couldn't see what expression she was making, but she let go of the bags and stepped back.

"Alright."

She turned away and left through the door to head upstairs. My dad stood there for a moment longer, but I kept my gaze on the table in front of me until I heard him leave as well.

With the room to myself, I grabbed the bags and reached inside to begin setting the bowls out. The first bag contained two bowls which I put in front of my parents' seats before grabbing my own bowl from the second bag and placing it in front of mine. I reached into the second bag one more time, but my hand stopped when all I could feel were some napkins at the bottom. Confused, I checked the first bag again, but it was empty as well. I picked both bags up off the table, but neither had any weight to them.

The door opened and I turned to see my mom coming in, this time without the jacket she was wearing earlier. She looked at me standing there with the empty bags in my hands and gave me an inquisitive look.

"Something wrong?"

I looked back to the table with the three bowls I'd placed out.

"We're missing one."

"Huh?"

The confusion in her voice was clear, but I just kept looking at the table. There were four seats, but only three had a bowl sitting in front of them.

"Oh…"

She seemed to catch on, but neither of us moved from where we were standing.

It might be selfish or just plain wrong of me, but I don't want to leave her out.

My vision was locked onto the seat with no bowl in front of it and I'm sure hers was as well. Then a third voice came in from the doorway.

"Get a new bowl from the kitchen."

I looked towards the door to see my dad standing there with his jacket and tie removed and his sleeves rolled up. His voice was rough, probably because he hadn't used it too much either that day. He stared at the empty space in front of the fourth seat and continued.

"I'm not that hungry anyways."

I nodded and walked around the table into the kitchen to retrieve another bowl from the cupboard along with four pairs of chopsticks. As I did, my parents took their seats on one side of the table. I came back to the table and placed the fourth bowl in front of Komachi's seat before carefully setting each pair of chopsticks next to the bowls. My dad opened his bowl and used his chopsticks to move some of the food from his own bowl to Komachi's. I sat down before opening my bowl and doing the same, making sure to give her plenty of meat. Finally, my mom placed some of her food in the bowl. After all three of us had given it a portion of our meals, her bowl seemed to have the most food out of all of us, but no one said a word about it. Instead, we all brought our open hands together in front of us and spoke in unison.

"Thank you for the food."

With that, we slowly began to eat our dinner. I found myself glancing at the filled bowl with Komachi's chopsticks still neatly placed beside them. I stood by my choice to set a place for her, but I wasn't sure if the untouched food and clean chopsticks made it feel any less lonely at the dining table.

"So…"

I looked up to my mom who was facing me with her chopsticks placed on the table in front of her.

"We decided to have the funeral in three days, on Saturday."

I nodded. My dad stopped eating as well, but showed no intention of joining the conversation.

"The families of some of her friends have already reached out to say they're going to come and some of our relatives will be there, but if there's anyone you want to be there, just let us know."

I looked away.

Those two come to mind, but…

"I'll… I'll have to think about it."

"Okay. No rush, we just need to have an idea of how many people are going to be there."

I just nodded again.

"Also, your dad's boss invited us out to dinner tomorrow night. I'm sure he'd be fine with us bringing you along if you wanted to."

I shook my head immediately. I was already finding it uncomfortable trying to talk with my parents in our home. I didn't want to attend some heartless pity party with people I didn't know just to make them feel like they were helping somehow. I knew my parents had to go as a way to show thanks for the days off, but I felt no such obligation.

"Other than that though, we had no other plans for tomorrow, so we were thinking of spending some time taking care of the house since we have the chance."

It's rare for them to get a day off, so I thought they might use the chance to get some actual rest, but maybe keeping busy would be best for them too.

"What did you want to do?"

The question caught me off guard.

What do I want to do? The better question would be what can I do? If I stay here tomorrow, there's no reason I shouldn't help with the cleaning, but I'd probably end up in the way more than I'd actually help with anything…

No, that's just an excuse. I just don't know what I'd talk about if I had to stay here with them for the day. Plus it'd probably ease their burden if they didn't have to worry about me for a while. That means that just "going out" would probably be a bad idea too. Not that I'd know what to do with myself if I just left the house without any plans.

So, what? Stay in my room?

I thought back to my experience this morning; how uncomfortable it felt to sit there in silence.

But maybe if I did the same thing I did earlier but in my room…

I looked towards the couch where I'd laid down with music and a book to waste away the hours. Then my gaze fell on the bag sitting in front of the couch and I stared at it for a while.

School… I guess that's another option.

I'd wanted to avoid other people as much as possible, but I'd also experienced first-hand how isolating it could feel.

It would never be completely silent there, at least. Plus my parents would probably worry less if I tried doing what I normally do. There might be some problems that come up with my sudden reappearance, particularly from a certain loudmouth, but I've avoided those before.

Having made up my mind, I turned back to face my mom who'd been patiently waiting for my answer in the time I'd been lost in thought.

"I…I think I'll go back to classes tomorrow."

If my mom was surprised by my answer, she certainly didn't show it. Instead choosing to nod with a soft smile on her face. I turned towards my dad to see his reaction and, while he maintained as neutral of a face as ever, he did give one slow nod to my statement. With the conversation seemingly closed, I returned to my food and my parents soon followed.

Once everyone had finished eating, I stood up to gather all the plastic bowls we'd gotten from the restaurant alongside the one bowl dish and all the chopsticks. As I disposed of the plastic bowls, my mom spoke up.

"Just leave the bowl and chopsticks in the sink, I'll wash them later."

"No. At least let me handle this much."

I placed the bowl and chopsticks in the sink and began running the water to soak them.

"In that case, I'm going upstairs to take a bath. What about you, Dear?"

My dad took a moment before quietly replying.

"I'm going to lay down. You go ahead."

"Alright. In that case, goodnight Hachiman."

I turned around to face my parents as they stood to leave the room.

"Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad."

My dad simply nodded as he followed my mom out of the room and, eventually, I heard them slowly climb the stairs.

With them gone, I turned back around and put my hands on the counter to hold myself up and let out a big sigh. As I felt the tension leave my body, all the thoughts I'd been holding back began racing through my mind at once.

Why couldn't you say it? Why couldn't you just tell them? Why were you so afraid to say it? Why why why why why why why?

I lowered my head while continuing to prop myself up against the counter. A familiar feeling of nausea assaulted me as I stood there and I tried to take a couple deep breaths to calm myself.

They're worried about ME? After everything, she can still sit there and give me a smile while she encourages me to go out. And while he didn;t say much, that's probably all he could do to keep it together in front of me…

I felt the tears build up in my eyes and my breathing start to quicken as my emotions overwhelmed me.

It's your fault they're like this. So why are they so concerned with you? And why couldn't you say it when you had the chance? Why are you such a coward when it matters most?

Why didn't you tell them that you're sorry?

I heard the light taps of my tears hitting the inside of the metallic sink rhythmically as I stood there and cried. I focussed on the rhythm as I tried to get my breathing in order. Then I realized something.

Have I been thinking like that all this time?

I stared into the sink.

"You"? Like it was someone else…? But no one else made those mistakes. It wasn't just anyone that let it all happen. It was me.

My grip on the edge of the counter tightened as I found my resolve.

It's my fault.

I lightly pushed off the counter and regained my composure with a slow breath, then proceeded to work on the dishes in front of me.

I need to make sure they aren't worried about me; that they can focus on what's important.

I cleaned and wiped the chopsticks and the bowl before placing them aside to dry and then drying my own hands off. With the dishes done, I turned the faucet off and then turned around to leave the kitchen. However, having turned off the water, the room was once again completely silent. I stood by the doorway and looked around with an unpleasant expression on my face as the nausea continued to assail me.

Though school might honestly be a better option than staying here.

I turned off the lights and left the room, hoping the nausea would subside by the next morning.

A/N: Hello again everyone. First of all, sorry for the huge delay on this second part. A lot happened in the 7 months since the first chapter came out and I traded the motivation I had to create something for doubts in my ability to properly write it. Secondly, thanks to those of you that saw chapter 1 all those months ago and still came back to read this second one. Although this chapter isn't super exciting, hopefully the length will help lessen the blow of how long it took to get out there. Anyways, not much else to say, so just leave your thoughts in the reviews. I don't want to make empty promises, but hopefully chapter 3 won't take nearly as long.

Thanks for reading!