Something Greater Than Ourselves

It was already late when the guests finally left Hana and Shinya’s home. None of them had realized how much time had passed, lost in conversation and playful teasing between bites of takoyaki.

Shinya sat on the couch, settling once again into the calm, familiar quiet they both knew so well. It had been his first time at a gathering like that, but now, alone again, he realized it had far exceeded his expectations.

After getting a glass of water, Hana returned and sat beside Shinya, stretching out and finally relaxing after the lively evening. Shinya did the same. They stayed there, sharing the comfort of each other’s company as they stared at the ceiling.

“So? What did you think?” Hana asked.

“I have to admit, it was better than I expected. No wonder people in dramas seem to love this kind of thing.”

Hana was quiet for a moment as if needing to think before replying.

“I had a lot of fun,” she said softly. “We should do this more often.”

Shinya couldn’t hide the smile that formed on his face. Taking part in moments like these, alongside humans, was part of his purpose on Earth, and seeing Hana enjoy herself, by his side, made him feel the same way.

He had savored every second of that night. And now, in the silence of the living room, he found himself wanting to experience it again, to repeat the feeling that made him feel good. Especially if it was with her.

“I agree,” he said. “We can check with Mayu, see when she’s free again, and—”

Before he could finish the sentence, the world around him shifted. The living room vanished.

The place was completely different, far more serene. A beach, lit only by moonlight. The sound of the waves filled the air, and a gentle breeze brushed against his skin. In front of him, sitting on the sand, was a woman. Her hair danced with the wind, and in her arms rested a sleeping girl, her expression peaceful, a smile on her face.

Shinya walked closer, slowly. As he approached, the woman looked at him, then back at the child, in a dense silence full of meaning. For moments that felt eternal, she simply held her close. But then, as if unable to hold herself together any longer, the woman broke down in tears, clinging tightly to the little girl.

***

The little girl ran through the small space Shinya knew all too well, the same place where so many other souls had passed before moving on. It was a place of farewells, but also one of comfort. Her mother watched her with a tender, calm gaze.

Shinya finished preparing a dish on the counter, a pudding that jiggled softly on the plate. He cut two pieces and placed them on smaller dishes, one for the mother and one for the daughter.

“Come get some pudding,” the woman called out, and the girl ran over to her enthusiastically.

“Yay! I love pudding!” she said, eyes shining.

She grabbed the plate and dashed over to a corner with a small table. Toys and drawing supplies were scattered on it, including papers, colored pencils, and crayons. There was also an illustrated storybook and some drawings she had made herself, now set aside in favor of the pudding.

“Sorry,” the woman said, turning to Shinya across the counter. “I’ve never seen her this excited before... running, playing, free to do whatever she wants.”

Shinya gave a soft smile. Seeing souls feel at ease in that place brought him comfort. That was why he took such care in preparing it, to make it a place of relief, not pain.

“She’s full of energy,” he commented.

“She is happy,” the mother replied. “Not that she didn’t seem happy at the hospital, but… this is different.”

She lowered her eyes, lost in thought. Shinya recognized that silence. It was the moment when a soul looked back on their life, questioning whether they had done the right thing.

“I just wonder if I did enough,” she added.

“You did everything you could. And she knew that,” he said in a consoling tone.

He couldn’t measure it, but from all the people he had met in similar situations, he could imagine how hard it was to hold on to hope when faced with a child full of dreams that would never come true, even more so when the mother herself was hiding an illness.

“She never knew, did she?” Shinya asked.

The woman nodded.

“I never wanted to tell her. It wouldn’t have been fair to put that weight on her too. She already carried her own burden... she didn’t deserve mine as well.”

Shinya stayed silent. He didn’t know what to say. It was impossible to imagine the silent pain she had endured, watching her daughter waste away while her own body also gave out.

“You could still be alive if you’d gotten treatment,” he said.

“I couldn’t afford that luxury. Not while my daughter wasn’t okay. She’s all I have. Without her... I don’t exist.”

The conviction in her voice stopped Shinya cold.

“At the very least, I wanted to make her biggest wish come true. So, when I found out that morning she didn’t have much time left... I decided I would make it happen.”

“Even while so weak? Even with your own life at risk?” Shinya asked.

“I did what I believed was necessary.”

He studied her expression. There wasn’t a trace of regret. She truly believed she had made the right choice. Even so, he knew there were limits. Some rules couldn’t be ignored, no matter the intent.

“You know I can’t let you go on with your daughter, right?” he finally said. “By taking her from the hospital, even unknowingly, you shortened her life. You brought the inevitable forward... and in doing so, you interfered with the natural order.”

The woman didn’t argue. She simply smiled.

“If you had seen her face when she saw the ocean for the first time... you’d understand.”

Her actions had been driven by something pure and intense. But his role was clear. No matter how much he wanted to see her side, he had a duty to fulfill.

He let the two enjoy a little more time. He watched them play, draw, laugh out loud, and savor their pudding, their favorite dessert. And he realized that even in the smallest joys, the two were connected in a way that felt like it went beyond blood.

Shinya didn’t know how much time had passed since they’d arrived, but the inevitable moment had come, and it was time to say goodbye.

The door to the beyond shone brightly. A warm, multicolored light streamed through the cracks, filling the air with a feeling hard to describe. The two held hands tightly, full of love, as they walked toward the light.

The mother knelt to meet her daughter’s gaze, tears in her eyes, gently brushing her face and fixing her hair. It was as if she wanted to engrave that touch, that look, that moment forever.

“Mommy, are we going?” the girl asked sweetly.

The woman smiled through her tears.

“Go on ahead, my love... I’ll catch up.”

The girl hesitated for a second, then gave her mother one last hug. But before walking into the light, she approached Shinya and handed him a drawing. It showed the two of them eating pudding, with Shinya next to them, smiling.

He took the paper gently and watched her walk toward the door. As she crossed the threshold, she vanished.

Only Shinya and the woman remained. She wiped her tears and looked at the god before her with a serene smile.

“You said I interfered with the natural order,” she began. “But if one day you have to choose between following rules and doing the impossible for love... you’ll understand that when we truly love someone, we don’t think about the consequences. We just feel... and act.”

Her words echoed deep within Shinya. Nothing had ever pierced his body that way before. He barely understood human emotions, but this, this felt like a truth he didn’t yet know how to name, but that weighed more heavily than anything he’d ever known.

He swallowed hard, knowing he had to finish his task. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice softer than he’d intended.

“I am,” she replied, steady.

Shinya knew what to do. Like so many times before, he would guide a soul. But unlike most, her destination wasn’t what she hoped. She couldn’t go with her daughter. She wouldn’t have the rest that so many longed for. The woman would simply... cease to exist as she was. And even so, she seemed to accept that. Without anger. Without resentment.

As her body slowly faded, something broke inside Shinya. It felt as if a force were pushing him to stop it, to deny what he knew was inevitable. For a brief moment, he thought of Hana. And in that thought, he came to understand something he still couldn’t name. A simple, overwhelming desire to stay by the side of the one who made him feel whole.

He didn’t know if one day he would be forced to go against the laws that defined his very existence, just as she said. But just imagining that possibility made him feel like he was falling apart.

He walked over to the little table where the girl had played. On it, the illustrated book of her short life lay open. He flipped through its pages slowly. There were moments at the hospital, where she had spent most of her life, and also her final moments at the beach, watching the sea and the sky, with her mother by her side.

And there, Shinya understood. That single moment had been the greatest fulfillment of the child’s life. A fragment of freedom. A dream made real. He looked again at the drawing in his hands. In it, the three of them were together. She, her mother, and he, smiling.

That was when Shinya realized.

It was the first time he had felt something like this. And the first time his eyes no longer obeyed him.