Welcome home..

I was still sitting outside the store when Ishinori-san came back out.

I hadn’t noticed the time passing. The light had shifted while I sat there, shadows stretching longer across the sidewalk. 

My thoughts hadn’t moved much, circling the same blank spaces over and over again. When the door slid open behind me, the sound startled me enough that I looked up too quickly.

Ishinori-san stopped when he saw me.

He stared for a moment, keys in hand, his expression caught somewhere between irritation and concern. His eyes flicked to the curb where I was sitting, then back to my face.

“You can’t loiter here,” he said finally. His tone was tired more than strict. “Go home.”

I nodded immediately, and started to stand.

I didn’t move.. My body hesitated just long enough for him to notice.

He sighed, the sound slow and deliberate, like he was resigning himself to something he’d already decided against. 

Without another word, he walked past me toward the parking lot. I watched him unlock his white Honda motorbike, then pause.

“Get in,” he said, not looking at me.

“I—what?”

“I’ll drive you to the station,” he continued. “And I’ll buy the ticket myself. Just get in before I change my mind.”

It took me a second to respond.

“Thank you,” I replied, instantly bowing down my head. “Thank you, Ishinori-san. I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

He waved a hand dismissively, and started the engine. “Just don’t make a habit of disappearing.”

The drive was quiet.

Streetlights passed in steady intervals, reflecting faintly off the hood. I sat stiffly in the seat, hands folded in my lap.

At the station, he parked briefly near the entrance and handed me the ticket himself. The amount made my stomach tighten—it was more than I was comfortable with but I didn’t say anything.

Before getting out, I pulled the paper with the address from my pocket and added a note in the margin. Repay Ishinori-san. 

I folded the paper neatly and returned it to my pocket, pressing it flat like that might help preserve the thought.

“Take care,” he said gruffly.

“I will,” I replied. “Thank you.. Ishinori-san”

He waited until I catched a train before driving off.

Ishinori-san asked for my discharge from the hospital before we went to the station.

The paperwork took longer than it should have. The staff asked questions that I didn’t expect answers to. I signed where I was told, nodded when required, and avoided drawing attention to the fact that Ishinori-san is my employer. By the time I stepped outside, the air felt different—sharper, colder, heavier with possibility.

The train ride to Saitama Prefecture felt longer than it should have.

I took a window seat and watched the scenery pass. Buildings gave way to residential blocks, then to quieter stretches of land. The rhythm of the tracks was steady, almost hypnotic.

The ticket sat in my pocket, the cost still nagging at the back of my mind, but it didn’t matter. Some things couldn’t wait.

By the time I reached the neighborhood near Sayama Natural Park, it was already dark.

The air smelled faintly of damp leaves. Streetlights cast uneven pools of light, and insects buzzed quietly near the trees lining the road. 

My steps slowed as I turned onto the familiar street, each house triggering a dull sense of recognition without clarity.

Then I saw it. That's my house. It looked the same as I remembered.

The gate creaked softly when I pushed it open. I paused on the path, staring at the front door, waiting for something to surface. A memory. A feeling. Anything.

The door slid open before I could knock.

“Brother! He’s back!”

The shout came from inside, loud and unfiltered.

Hikaru burst out the front door before I could react, nearly tripping over the step. He skidded to a stop in front of me, eyes wide, hugging me in all at once. For a split second, his expression faltered, like he’d noticed something he hadn’t expected.

I stiffened, then relaxed.

My father came out next, calm and steady as ever. He took my bag from my hand.

“Akira,” he said. “Welcome home.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

From the window, my mother called out for us to come inside quickly, worrying about the cold. I turned toward her voice, opened my mouth to answer—

And my legs gave out.

The strength drained from them without warning, blood rushing up too fast. I dropped to my knees on the path, one hand catching on Hikaru’s sleeve, the other bracing against the stone.

“I—” My voice cracked immediately. “I’m—”

The words tangled as soon as they surfaced. They came out broken, disordered, nothing like what I meant to say. Words dissolved before they could take shape.

Hikaru froze.

“Brother?” he said softly, unsure whether to move or hold tighter.

My parents stood there, confused and alarmed, trying to understand why I was shaking. My father knelt in front of me, setting the bag aside. My mother rushed out from the house, hands hovering, afraid.

“Akira?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

I looked at them. Their faces were familiar. Their voices unmistakable. Recognition finally dawned upon me. And yet, something inside me broke open all the same.

“Father…Mother…”

My chest tightened, breath coming shallow and uneven. Tears blurred my vision, sudden and uninvited. I hadn’t planned to cry. I hadn’t even realized I was holding that much inside.

“I’m here,” my mother said quickly, kneeling beside me. “You’re home. You’re safe.”

The words echoed without settling inside me.

I couldn’t explain what happened to me.

How could I?

My father placed a steady hand on my shoulder. His grip was warm. Real.

“Let’s get you inside,” he said gently. “We’ll talk later.”

I nodded.

They helped me to my feet. Hikaru stayed close, his hand gripping my sleeve like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go. As we stepped into the house, the warmth hit me all at once.