Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hitomi had been neat once, when she was younger. She’d kept everything in its proper location, getting rid of anything she no longer cared for, always sure where to find anything she needed. It had been fun to her, a game of sorts, and in her teenage years she’d even tried to get her parents in on it when they were around. They’d agreed reluctantly, but by the end they too found that watching their drawers go from things shoved in every which way to carefully organized was useful, satisfying, and yes, maybe, just maybe, a little bit fun.

And then they’d passed, in a brutal collision while coming back from one of the few nights they’d finally had time off to spend together, and it was her job to go through their things.

After that, it hadn’t felt so fun anymore.

She’d never been messy, necessarily, but by the time she’d warmed up to the idea again Iris was an elementary schooler with things to do and places to be, and Hitomi was an elementary school teacher with enough work to grade that it kept her up at night sometimes, when Iris really needed her the rest of the day.

Needless to say, while her house wasn’t cluttered by any means, after two decades of being out of the habit and raising a child, the amount of stuff she was pulling out now would have made her teenage self at least a little disappointed in her. Iris’s room would have frustrated her even more.

Oh well. No harm, no foul. It had never caused much trouble for either of them, and they were going through it all now. They had to, to make room for suits and button-up shirts next to her things, and for jackets and junior high uniforms next to Iris’s. For a father and a sister, to complete their family. A partner and a daughter.

Oh, and an eyeball. She was part of the family too.

Even with all the stuff she had to sort through piled around her, Hitomi had never been happier.

Her desk drawers were small and relatively simple, so she started with those. Pencils and pens that needed to be put away, clips and pins that needed to be grouped together, old papers she no longer needed - it was easy. She put away what she needed to, organized what she was keeping, threw out the trash, and moved on.

The next drawer was much the same, though with more papers. Most of them were old and irrelevant. That cleared out quickly too.

The bottom drawer was better organized, a file folder of legal documents, another of appliance warranties, another with Iris’s old art projects. There were paintings of flowers and fun collages from her elementary school days, history projects where she’d had to draw and color from junior high, and-

At the back of the folder was a photo that did not belong there.

She picked it up, and a smile spread across her face.

Her, Iris, and Date - Falco, then - grinned at the camera against a colorful underwater backdrop, next to the holographic tour guide and surrounded by surprisingly realistic computer-generated fish. She recognized it immediately, but the logo in the corner confirmed it. It was from the theme park they’d taken Iris to for her birthday.

It had been so much fun, and they all looked so happy. None of them could have known what would happen just a week later. That everything would collapse so soon after.

She didn’t remember shoving it in the folder, but she was sure that was why she had. Just like with her parents, she’d had to sort through what Falco left behind, from memories to the clothes he’d just begun to move over to their house, and she’d shoved it all away in drawers and the back of her closet. Maybe she’d gotten soft since her teenage years. She’d never been able to give up any of it, still holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, one day, he’d be back with them.

But whatever it was, sentimentality or foolishness, somehow it had been right. He had come back. She’d been able to give all those clothes back to him. They hadn’t been in great condition after sitting in her closet for six years, but he hadn’t cared. For a bit, they’d been the only clothes he had that fit his new-old body.

She’d bought him a new shirt not long after Iris organized the celebratory dance at the harbor, identical to his old ones except in that shade of purple he liked. It was an apology, she’d said, for the clothes’ condition, and a repayment for when he’d bought her a new sweater so long ago. And, just like back then, she’d hoped it could be a beginning.

Seeing as he and Mizuki were moving in with them, and that he’d now entirely replaced the red shirts with purple ones, it was clear he’d wanted a beginning too.

Now that he was back, she didn’t have to hide that photo anymore. It was going on the wall. Maybe they could even go to that theme park again with Mizuki and hang the photos side by side, a before and after. That would be really cute. And that tour guide had been an advanced AI, right? Maybe she and Aiba would get along.

They had so much ahead of them. A bright, shining future.

She set the photo down, but the next folder made her hesitate. It was stuffed to the brim with papers, all folded, all covered in writing.

Her letters to Manaka.

Her mind instinctively told her to skip going through them, to keep them all and put them back, save them for later, but she knew that wouldn’t solve anything. The emotions it stirred up were intense, and they needed to be addressed. So, slowly, taking a deep breath, she pulled them out.

...Date and I have been sorting things out.

...Iris’s treatment was a success.

...It’s over, Manaka. It’s finally over.

...the detective - his name is Date - saw your body and thought it was Iris.

...I’m going to blackmail So into saving his own daughter’s life.

...The two of us are doing great! Especially Iris.

...I’ve always been a coward, though, and it’s easier to keep lying.

...Falco really is like a father to her.

...I have no doubt she’d be able to succeed as an idol.

...If you were still here, you’d be turning twenty-five.

...I’m sorry it’s been a little longer than usual since my last visit. I’ve decided I can’t go to the warehouse anymore. When I got home after last time, Iris had woken up and was crying because she didn’t know where I was, and I can’t afford to let that happen again.

Years and years and years of memories, from her last letter half a year ago all the way back to Iris’s toddlerhood.

It was… relatively normal, now, but also so overwhelming. She remembered how distraught she’d been to start writing, and looking back on it now, it was so obvious she’d been lonely and grieving with no one to help her.

The letters were just events from the past, and it even made her happy to see how far they’d come, but for some reason, reading them, there was a lump in her throat, and tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

Manaka. She regretted not stopping her from leaving that night every single day. She’d been so desperate to be the kind of parent Manaka would have wanted for her daughter. She’d wanted to kill Saito and So and Rohan with her own hands, even thought of ways to do that, before remembering Iris needed her. For eighteen years, she’d always doubted herself, never feeling like enough. She’d never let go of anything.

Maybe all she had wanted was for someone to tell her she was doing everything just fine.

...Maybe she had just wanted to know that Manaka thought so, too.

But no matter how many questions she asked and letters she wrote, she could never get a response.

“Hey, Mom?”

Iris’s voice broke through her thoughts. Hitomi made her face lie flat and looked up to see her standing in the doorway.

“Yes?”

“Umm…” Iris scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “Well, I was cleaning out my desk, and I found this. I wrote it a couple years ago, back when I was sick, and… it’s not really relevant anymore, but it was for you, so you should probably have it. So. Yeah.”

She sheepishly held out a slightly dusty envelope with Mom written in black on the front.

Huh. A letter. And this one was for her.

Hitomi smiled and took it. “That’s very sweet of you, Iris. Thank you. I’ll make sure to read it.”

“Right. Cool.” Iris smiled back and nodded, then went back to her room. Hitomi turned the letter over in her hand.

She should have saved it for later, finished putting everything back in her desk before she opened it. It would definitely sidetrack her.

But she’d just been going on about how she’d just wanted a response, and… who knew. Whatever Iris had to tell her, maybe part of Manaka was in it, too.

She went over to her bed and opened the envelope. More paper than she had expected was inside.

The date Iris had written in the corner read October 26, 2019.

Dear Mom,

Today is my 18th birthday. It’s been 18 years since I was born. And, if you’re reading this… it means I’ve passed away.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry you have to go through this. I’m sorry you have to sort through all my stuff. That’s how you found this. If it makes it any easier for you, know that I won’t be offended if you give my things away. Now that I’m gone, I don’t need them anymore. In fact, I’d really like it if you did give them away. There are so many teenage girls even around here who don’t have enough clothes to wear, so many kids who don’t have enough books and toys - I’d love it if you could give my things to them! If you want to keep something as a reminder of me, sure, but please let everything else go to them. Except my Adorabbit stuff. I want Mizuki to have that.

She smiled. Iris always had been such a kind soul.

I don’t know how long I have left, but I know I’m not going to make it to this time next year. Or, actually, I think you mentioned a surgery that might help a little? But even if it does, it’ll only give me a little more time. Even if it works, I won’t have more than a few years left.

I know that seems like a tragedy, but… I want you to know I don’t regret anything.

Eighteen years might seem short to you, but for me, it’s all I’ve ever known. That’s 6,574 days. That’s a lot! 157,776 hours! That’s so many! Maybe I won’t get to go through all the life milestones a normal person would, but that’s okay. These 18 years have been the best 18 years anyone could have given me. Maybe it’s not that many in comparison, and maybe there have been some ups and downs, but all 18 of those years have been so happy. They’ve made me so happy.

Hehe. Remember when I was a little kid and you brought me to that dance show? I don’t remember much about it, honestly. I know you’ve told me over and over how I went up and danced with the performers onstage, but I barely remember that. I just remember them taking pictures with me and giving me autographs and telling me how good I was at dancing. I always wanted to be an idol, but I think that was what really encouraged me. After that, I was really determined. It was always my biggest dream, and I got to achieve it! I’ve done what I wanted to do my entire life. I’ve made so many people happy with my dancing. I released my own song. I’d love to be able to keep doing that, but even if I can’t… that’s okay.

Don’t blame yourself for any of this. It’s no one’s fault. Not being able to afford the nanotech isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. You’ve always done everything you could to give me the best life I could have, and this is just out of your control.

You had me when you were 19. 19! I can’t even begin to think about raising a child, let alone on my own. But you did, and you never let it get you down. You never cared what other people said about you. I know you hadn’t planned on having me, but you did an amazing job. You were always there for me. And I never even realized how amazing you are until recently. I would always complain about it only being the two of us. I would drag you into doing things when you were exhausted. I pestered you about marrying Uncle so much. And yet you were never annoyed with me. You always loved me. You always helped me. Even though you only had yourself, and sometimes Mr. Okiura, you were determined to raise me, and you raised me better than a lot of families with two parents would. Even if I could choose, I wouldn’t change a thing. You’re the best mom I ever could have asked for. I’m so, so glad you’re my mom.

Her vision blurred, and she tried to force it back to keep reading, but a tear slipped down her cheek. She closed her eyes, letting more follow it, and then, once her vision had cleared, she continued.

I know losing me was devastating. I know I meant everything to you. I know you’ll never forget me, and that this hurts. A lot. I don’t think it’ll ever completely stop hurting. But I also know that the world is going to keep going. I know you’re going to keep going. Things will get better. It might not feel like it now, but it will. I promise.

I want you to remember that you have your own life. And you have so much life left! Maybe you’ll get married. Maybe you’ll even have another kid. Maybe you’ll find Uncle again. Or maybe you won’t, but you’ll keep inspiring the kids you teach. Maybe you’ll be able to help find a more affordable treatment so they can save people like me. There are so many of them out there. It might be too late to save me, but if, in the future, there’s a way to save them… that’s good enough for me.

The world is so big. And in the grand scheme of things, all of us are so small. We mean everything to each other, but to other people, we mean nothing. I think that’s comforting. The world might feel like it’s ending, but it’s not. Even without me, everything will be okay. You’ll make it through. I know you will. You’ve already made it through so much.

So… please keep on living. For me.

You’ve done so much for me. You gave me a home where I was loved. You sacrificed everything to care for me. You danced with me. You constantly encouraged me. You took me to parks and barbecues and museums. You sang to me and told me stories. You taught me how to cook. You helped me become an idol. Even now, you’re still looking for a way to cure me. You’ve always put me first. Remember when I fell off the monkey bars and broke my leg, and you immediately scooped me up and drove around all day looking for emergency care? And you’ve never complained about me asking about Uncle, even though I can tell you’ve given up on him.

Maybe it’s stupid for me to keep looking for him. Maybe something happened I don’t know about. But… if you ever do find him again, tell him I love him, and I always missed him.

I told you I was putting a message for him in my song, didn’t I? You probably know what it is. It’s not hard to find. But what I didn’t tell you was I wrote part of it for you, too. I made the whole second verse for the two of you. The first part is for him, and the second part is for you. You’ve encouraged me so much, so I wanted to encourage you, too. That you can live on even without me.

Her eyes stung and her vision wavered again, the words blurring around the edges.

So resist! Your dreams are worth defending!

Fight on! Your will is unbending!

See through the point in your eye, unblinking, the pyramid of your mind, unending!

Revolt! Even with death impending, live on! Dream through space, rending!

Walking with my spirit of hope beside you - because our hope will never die!

She couldn’t read the rest. The words blended into a mess of ink, and this time, it took much longer before all her tears had spilled over.

Even when I’m gone, my hopes won’t be. And I don’t want yours to be either.

Thank you, Mom. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, and thank you for bringing me into the world. Everything I’ve done has been possible because of you. Thank you for everything.

I love you. I love you so much. Even when we fight. I’ll never forget you, Mom. Ever.

Live on, Mom. It’s okay.

And maybe we’ll even meet again someday. When we do, you can tell me all about everything, okay?

I’ll see you then. ^-^

Love,

Your Iris

And there, at the end, she didn’t try to stop the tears from pouring down her cheeks anymore.

At the bottom, Iris had drawn the two of them, holding hands, smiling. It was simple and childlike - she’d vastly improved since she’d drawn the Okonomiyaki War, but she clearly hadn’t gotten Manaka’s art skills - but it was so much her.

It was beautiful.

All Hitomi could do was smile back.

Iris had been wrong - so, so wrong. She’d lived, but those words were more relevant than she ever could have imagined.

Iris had lived. 

She’d gotten to find her Uncle again. She was still singing and dancing and inspiring others. Mizuki was going to see that Adorabbit stuff every day now, but without any somber reminders. Iris was giving away some of her things to those in need, but she was doing it herself. Hitomi had found her own life again, finally able to let go of the secrets and the resentment that had bound her for so long, and they were all happy.

Iris had been fine with only living those 18 years, but now she would live so many more, and she could see everything she’d wanted herself.

Someone else couldn’t, but those words seemed to belong to her too all the same.

When she finally stumbled out of her room, still crying, into Iris’s, her daughter looked up at her, then away with an awkward smile.

She really was Manaka’s spitting image.

“Iris,” she whispered, her voice choked.

“Hi, Mom.” Iris laughed. “Um, sorry. I don’t remember exactly what I put in there, so it was probably pretty cheesy.”

“No.” She shook her head. “No. It was perfect.”

And she collapsed to the ground and threw her arm around Iris as hard as she could, burying her face in her shoulder with a sob, and Iris hugged her back.

“I love you,” she choked. “I love you so much. I’m so glad I have you. I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“I love you too, Mom.” Iris’s voice wavered. “And I’m glad that I’m still here. And I’m really glad you’re my mom.”

“I’m so glad I’m your mom too.”

Iris pulled her closer with a shuddering sigh. “Thank you, Mom,” she whispered. “Thank you for everything.”

And then Iris was crying too, and her own tears came anew.

They stayed like that for a long, long while, holding each other close.

Needless to say, they didn’t get any more cleaning done that night - but no one in the world could have cared, and especially not them.

* * *

That night, she dug through the pile of clothes they were set to donate and pulled out something old and simple. One more day - she just wanted to wear it one more time.

By the time that day came around, just a little bit later, Kaname and Mizuki had moved in, and he looked surprised when he saw the outfit.

“That’s…” He murmured.

Hitomi smiled, adjusting her beret. “Well, you know what we’re doing today. I thought I’d dress up like she remembers me, for old time’s sake.”

“I see.” He nodded. “You know, that’s exactly what you were wearing in your Somnium.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah. Although this time, you’re wearing two of those bracelets.”

On her wrists were two matching cord bracelets - one yellow and blue, the other yellow and red. “One of them was hers.”

“Oh.” There was a moment of silence, and then he took a deep breath and smiled. “Well, it may have been twenty years since then, but I think you still look good in it.”

She laughed softly, moving in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

Fortune was on her side - her order at the florist’s was ready right on time, and she’d been a little nervous at her house, but Ikume Shrine gave her exactly what she needed. She left a few coins in the offering box as thanks.

And then she and Iris were off to the cemetery - a somber occasion, but she felt nothing but relief. Her friend finally had a proper resting place.

Manaka Iwai

28 March 1982--27 October 2001

Beloved Daughter and Friend

And, Hitomi thought, watching Iris place some of the cluster amaryllis beside the grave, she was a mother, too. If she’d been able to see this, she would have been nothing but proud.

Hitomi set down the rest of the lycoris flowers and lit just a little bit of incense - Manaka had always said the smell was smothering - then sat beside the grave. Iris followed suit. Hitomi clasped her hand around the other, and they closed their eyes.

She prayed that Manaka would hear her words, and that she could know they were happy.

It didn’t take long before Iris was getting antsy, but that was okay. Hitomi smiled and told her she could go back to the car.

Iris glanced down. “I don’t want to be disrespectful, though.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I know Manaka won’t be offended. She never cared too much about tradition. Plus, I’d like to talk to her alone a bit.”

“Oh.” Iris nodded. “Okay.”

She stood and looked at the grave again, bowing slightly. “Well, I’ll see you later, then. Both of you. My moms.”

She gave the headstone an affectionate pat as she headed out, and Hitomi smiled at her. Once Iris was out of earshot, Hitomi chuckled and looked at the grave again.

“Did you hear that, Manaka? She called you her mom.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she gently adjusted the lycoris flowers.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to you like this, Manaka. How have you been?”

There was no response, of course. Only the cool, gentle breeze. The leaves of trees waved in the wind.

“This place is beautiful. Much better than that cold, lonely warehouse. I’m glad you found a home like this. It took much too long, but you finally have a place to rest.”

She could feel herself getting choked up already. Geez. She laughed softly.

“I can’t believe it’s already been twenty years. I don’t know how that happened. Iris still feels like my little girl, but she turned twenty yesterday. She’s old enough to drink now. Her party’s on Sunday. Oh- don’t worry, she’s not going to go overboard. We let her have some wine last night, and she didn’t even like it. It wasn’t sweet enough for her tastes. Heh, a far cry from you, huh?”

They’d all made their fair share of questionable decisions back then, but Manaka had embraced the wild new culture the most - not surprising, knowing how stifled she’d been before.

She sighed. “I’ve known Iris ten times as long as I knew you now. That’s so weird. And now your murder has been solved for almost as long as I knew you too. It doesn’t feel real. It feels like you were in my life for so much longer than that, and it feels like these past few years have flown by. Kaname and I have been dating for half a year now. He and Mizuki moved in the other day. Everything’s changed in these past few years, but at the same time, it feels like we’re just doing the same things we have been. Like this is exactly where we’re all supposed to be.”

A family. Home.

She smiled. “Iris wrote me a wonderful letter the other day. Well, she wrote it a few years ago, when she was sick and thought she was going to die. But she found it while she was cleaning up and gave it to me, and… I couldn’t help but hear you in it. It made me realize that, if I was in your shoes, I would have been concerned that I had forced my kid on you, not that you weren’t being the perfect parent. So I want you to know that you forced none of this on me. I decided to take in Iris because I loved her. I wanted to. I did none of it out of obligation. And I don’t regret a single thing. Being Iris’s mother has been nothing but a blessing.”

The corners of her eyes stung. She laughed. “In her letter, Iris said that eighteen years might seem short to me, but for her, it was all she’d ever known. She wasn’t sad about losing her future because there was nothing there to lose. Nothing is guaranteed. That doesn’t make death any easier, but she wanted me to remember her for who she was, not what she couldn’t be. I think I was thinking of you that way for a long time. Instead of just remembering you as you were, I would think of you as the mother you’d never be able to be. I’d think of the career you could never have, or the family you could never find, or the goals you could never reach, or the things we’d never be able to celebrate together. And it’s not wrong to grieve for that, but I should have just thought of you as you, and instead I was thinking about all these things you never were.”

Manaka had always said she wanted to change the world. Even in a time with very few women in politics, she’d wanted to make her way into the government and start changing the rules, despite knowing her parents would wildly disapprove. I’ll be the inspiration I never had, she’d said. She always had been a rebel, in the few ways she could.

“Haha. Remember when it felt like we had to have everything figured out by twenty or the world would end? Now I’m almost forty, and I still don’t have everything figured out. No matter what happens, life goes on. Iris said that in her letter too. A mistake or a tragedy won’t spell the end of everything. It felt like that when we found out you were pregnant, remember? But life went on, and now Iris is here. My parents died, but we worked through it together, and I miss them every day, but I’ve made a life without them. You died, and I miss you too, but Renju and I managed to make it through, and even brought you to justice in the end. I lost Falco, but I picked myself up. I lost my arm, but I adapted and I can live a normal life. Iris had cancer, but we fought through it, and in the end we managed to cure her. And now Renju’s dead, falsely accused of murder, unable to see you like this, but… life will go on. Mizuki is being cared for. Kaname is here again. So much is open in the future. Iris’s letter mentioned that I could even have another kid at some point, and that’s insane to think about, but… it’s possible. If we - well, I, I shouldn’t assume - ever did, they wouldn’t know any of the events we see as integral parts of our lives and relationships. They’re our basis, but to them, everything would look different. Who knows. The future is a blank slate.”

Hitomi reached into her pocket and pulled out a few pale purple flowers with large, drooping petals, then set them among the cluster amaryllis.

“These are winter irises. We have some potted in our house, but they haven’t bloomed yet, so I brought some from the shrine. Whenever I see these flowers, I think of Iris. She loves them. So I want you to have a few of them around you. I want you to know just how amazing a young woman she is, and how much I’m proud of her. And that I’m so glad to have her. I want you to know that her future is bright and shining. I may not know it, but we’re going to get through it, together. No matter what.”

She fiddled with the bracelet on her right wrist. “I know you didn’t get to have much time with her, but I still remember your face when she was born. You had been so nervous about how your whole life would completely change. You were worried you wouldn’t be able to provide for her. You would start panicking sometimes when it got to the point where she could be born any day. But when she finally was born, I could tell you weren’t thinking about any of that. That first moment I saw you with her, the only thing on your face was love. I know you loved her so much, even after just those few hours. You’d be so proud of her now. I know you are.”

She smiled. “I always held onto that look. I promised I’d love her just as much as you did. For years, I felt like I had to prove that. It felt like I had stolen Iris from you, like I had to justify my place as her mother instead. But I know you never thought like that. So, today, I want to set the record straight. I want to remember you as you were. That’s why I’m wearing this now. You always liked it. I remember you complimenting this beret. We were typical teens, concerned with clothes and grades and all that surface level stuff, feeling like we were on top of the world and yet like we were being crushed. I don’t know how much time and money we spent at that coffee shop on overpriced drinks and video games, but I remember us always having a good time there. You would talk about your dreams of being a politician, Renju would talk about the kind of business he wanted to start, and I had no idea what I wanted to do, but you both thought it was obvious I should be a teacher. We would complain about our classes and teachers - I don’t remember his name, it’s been so long now, but remember that one teacher who would always point out we were slouching? We whined about him a lot. You would always cheer on me and Renju when we played Alien Attackers there, even though you weren’t much of a fan of the game. I remember when we first met, too, like it was yesterday. We got paired up for one of those icebreakers on the first day of class, and found out we’d both been really into the same obscure book series as kids. We talked more at lunch. Neither of us had very many friends. I remember being surprised by that, because you were so outgoing. We started hanging out a lot, and then we were inseparable. Remember our shopping trips and buying our matching necklaces and trying on some of the ridiculous clothes neither of us could afford? Remember that time we made a cake at my house and ended up eating it all in one afternoon? Remember when we were supposed to be studying for finals, and we took a break that ended up turning into us watching anime for three hours? Haha, and remember us sort of abducting Renju into being our friend?”

Her vision wavered. She took a deep breath and looked at her hands. “I remember when my parents died, you guys showed up at my door with food and flowers, and even after Renju had to go, you stayed over late just holding me. I remember when we found out you were pregnant, and your other friends alienated you. You were so scared we would too, but we didn’t. We would have stuck by your side through anything. I remember getting the idea to make these bracelets to show you that. When I gave this to you, you cried and hugged me and after that we wore them every day. I remember you frantically calling me when you went into labor, and how I rushed to the hospital to see you. The doctors didn’t let us in, so Renju and I were waiting outside anxiously the whole time. And then, when they finally did let us in, the first thing I saw was you beaming at Iris. I remember all of that so clearly. And from now on, that’s how I want to remember you. So… I’m so glad I got to know you, Manaka. I’m thankful for every memory. Thank you for being my best friend, and for supporting me through everything when I needed it the most.”

Hitomi gently slid the bracelet off her right wrist. She gazed at it, rubbing her thumb over the woven cord, and a tear slipped down her cheek. It was old and dusty now, and so was the one on her other wrist, but in her mind she still saw them as they’d been twenty years before. She pictured herself, twenty years younger, in this very outfit, wearing it alongside Manaka, and she couldn’t stop herself from crying a little more.

“This…” She murmured, taking a deep breath. “I took this from you twenty years ago, and I could never bear to part with it. But now that you have a proper place to rest, I’d like to give it back. I promise to stay by your side, and our daughter’s, until the day I join you. And when that day comes, I’ll tell you everything all over again.”

As she placed it down, the bracelet brushed the one still on her wrist, and she smiled. Back then, when she’d first given it to her, Manaka had grabbed her hand and squeezed, thanking her tearfully, and they had brushed there too. For a moment, she could almost still feel the warmth of her hand.

The bracelet settled in the center of the flowers, right in front of the headstone, and her chest tightened at losing it. But it also felt… right.

Her with her own bracelet, and Manaka with hers again.

If you want to keep something as a reminder of me, sure.

She still had the matching necklaces they’d bought so long ago. She’d worn hers every day since as that reminder. Manaka’s was still in her jewelry box. Those were more than enough - and plus, her own bracelet was enough of a reminder already.

Maybe, one day, she could give those necklaces to Iris and Mizuki. Not yet - she wasn’t ready to part with them yet - but someday, maybe.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll go visit Renju in a few days myself, but if he’s up there with you… tell him Kaname, Iris, Mizuki, and I are all doing just fine, and I think we will be for a long, long time. They’re the best family I ever could have asked for, and even if the circumstances we went through to get here were awful, we’re all so happy. I love them so much. I don’t regret choosing them in the slightest.”

The cemetery was silent, but Hitomi already knew their response.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of the flowers and the faint lingering smell of incense.

When her eyes opened again, she stood, and gave the headstone the same affectionate pat Iris had.

The people she loved were finally safe.

“And I love you too, Manaka.”

* * *

When they returned, Kaname and Mizuki had made them dinner. They didn’t ask questions. It was a little burnt - clearly, Kaname - and some extra dishes in the sink suggested someone didn’t know about some of the gadgets she had in the kitchen - clearly, Mizuki - and she laughed softly when she saw, but it had turned out well nonetheless.

It surprised none of them that Iris was the first to break the silence, with a suggestion that she and Mizuki play a game together, and it was even less surprising that Mizuki cheerfully agreed.

Aiba gently chided them on not staying up too late. Kaname rolled his eyes. Hitomi went to wash the dishes, and he joined her, helping her roll up her sleeve.

It all felt… normal. Like home.

Like family.

She didn’t regret it in the slightest.