Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Are you nervous?”

Madoka glanced—through her thin veil—at her mother who looked at her attentively as they stood outside the church.

“Of course, I am!” She answered anxiously. Her hands that were holding the flower bouquet were shaky, and she could feel her palms were clammy under the white gloves.

“That is normal,” her mother said reassuringly, “I got nervous too when I got married to your father. But, do not worry, it will all disappear once you see your soon-to-be husband. Instead, all you can feel is pure happiness.”

“I suppose you are right,” Madoka whispered as she tried to put a smile on her face—despite her heart feeling otherwise.

“Trust me, Madoka,” her mother touched her hand gently. “This will be the best day of your life.”

Yes.

This will be the best day of my life.

However, when she finally stepped into the holy interior of the building, with her father holding her hand, and her husband-to-be in his dashing suit standing proudly at the altar, she felt none of that.

This will be the best day of my life.

She told herself repeatedly as her father led her through the aisle.

This should be the best day of my life.

She repeated as her father gave her away to her husband-to-be.

Yes. This is it.

She watched in silence as he put a ring on her finger.

This is the best day of my life.

All throughout her life, she never once left Fukushima, and she didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

She was born and raised there. It was natural for her to see herself having her own family and growing old there as well.

Therefore, when her boyfriend of seven years proposed to her on their university graduation day, Madoka said yes.

It was just the right thing to do, she thought.

That was just how life should progress, for a woman like her anyway.

They said getting married and having children are the two most important things she must do, and so she did.

They got married in a small ceremony with a modest reception then moved in together into a three-bedroom apartment unit that her parents gifted to them.

She learned that she was pregnant not too long after the wedding; not too long after she started her first job at her dream company.

Truth be told, Madoka did not want to have a child so soon after the marriage. However, he wanted one immediately.

He wanted to become a father he said. It was his dream. It would complete them he believed.

So, she agreed, and she endured.

Despite the constant nausea, from dawn till dusk, heaving empty air for she could not keep any food down her throat, she endured.

Every day, she woke up with another aching on her bones and another scar on her skin. Every day, she went to bed with a tear-stained face and a heavy heart; and every day, without complaining, she endured.

Even when her dream company fired her for being unprofessional and underperforming—or frankly, for being pregnant—she still endured.

Her husband told her to not be sad about that. He believed that he alone could support her and their baby. Which he used as an excuse for why he would always return late from work—because he had to work extra hard to support them.

Perhaps the same reason could be applied to why he never seemed to see her way again.

He would wake up, eat the breakfast that she had cooked, and go to his office with a lunchbox that was prepared by her. All without kissing her goodbye, something that he used to do before.

When he returned right after the lights had already darkened. He would heat up the dinner she had made, change into warm clothes that she had prepared outside the bathroom, and fall asleep on the bed next to her. All without whispering her good night, something that he liked to do before.

Maybe he was tired, she thought, or maybe he was disgusted by her.

Well, she could not blame him if he felt that way. After all, how could he not? Pregnancy changed her into something that was so hideous. Not because she did not take care of herself, but because she could not do it at all.

When her body was not aching from the baby, it was exhausted from taking care of the household.

As a result, she did not have any energy left to take care of herself, and she hated herself for that.

For the most part of her pregnancy, Madoka remembered avoiding all reflective surfaces and refusing to meet anyone.

With not even her shadow to follow, it was just her all alone in that apartment.

“Oh, it’s a girl,” the doctor said as they looked at the weird-shaped object on the tiny black-and-white screen of the intricate machine.

Madoka looked at him and saw that he was smiling, but it did not really reach his eyes.

He didn’t need to say anything for Madoka to understand what his true feelings were.

He wanted a boy, he always said that, ever since they first dated in high school in fact. He always wanted to have a boy because he believed having a girl would be troublesome.

“Girl whines a lot,” he said that one time, “and they are generally a crybaby. I would be annoyed every day if I had a daughter.”

Back then, Madoka thought he had a fair argument. After all, as a girl, she felt that way as well.

There was nothing to be celebrated about being a girl, all they do is whine and cry.

Just like herself.

Regardless, Madoka never really think much about having a child, let alone having preference over the gender of her baby. Thus, she was not really sure how to feel about the revelation of having a girl.

However, as she looked at the blurry image conjured by the machine, it finally hit her.

There was a human growing inside of her.

A tiny human, a girl, with a real beating heart.

Oh.

All these times that she thought she was alone, she had two heartbeats inside of her.

She had never felt so great of pain until that night.

She did not remember much from that day. Everything was hazy and almost dreamlike, she could not tell whether it was truly happening or not.

However, she knew that the way her pelvic floor broke into millions of pieces and the way her organs were twisting and turning inside as she pushed herself into oblivion, were all very real.

Every intake of breaths, every tear that fell, and every scream that came, she could feel it vibrating through her muscles and bones.

She was cold yet her skin was boiling and drenched in sweat.

There was a force, pushing her inside in both directions, one up and one down. If she didn’t know any better, she believed she would tear into two.

She also vaguely recalled hearing the loud cries that broke into the labor room after who knows many hours.

But, she remembered, very clearly when a nurse handed her a small bundle of her baby.

Yes, her baby.

On the fourth of September 1996, right around the time of half past three in the morning, Hitoka came into her life.

She stared at the sweet brown eyes of her baby and suddenly everything felt exactly right.

Madoka knew right away that no matter what happened, she would do anything for her baby.

The baby would not stop crying.

No matter what she did, the baby would not stop crying.

The baby must have hated her for being a bad mother, which would not be wrong. She hated herself as well.

What did she know about motherhood, anyway?

What if she did something wrong and killed the baby?

Some days, Madoka would find herself staring at the crying baby and not doing anything. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she was afraid the baby would wither away once touched by her impure hands.

So, she just stood by and watched.

Her mother—who had stayed over since she returned from the hospital—would scold her for not being responsive to the baby. Then, her mother would take care of the baby in her place.

In her hands, the baby would stop crying.

Which was another proof that Madoka should left the baby all alone.

But then, a thought came over her. What if something happened to the baby when she was away?

No! She could not let that happen. Even if she could not be the perfect mother for her, she would not let anything happen to the baby.

Therefore, Madoka would force herself to stay awake throughout the night. Even when her husband asked her to go to bed, Madoka would not move her eyes away from the sleeping figure of the baby.

Everyone always said that motherhood is the most magical feeling in the world that a woman can experience, but Madoka felt far from it.

Her breasts were sore, her muscles were aching, and her head was spinning. She wanted to just sleep and never woke up again.

However, if she did that, who would take care of the baby?

She could not rely on her mother forever and her husband would return very late in the night—claiming that he was too tired to take care of the baby.

At first, she tried to understand him.

After all, a good mother and a good wife would not complain or whine.

But did they cry every hour of the day? Crying because of everything and not because of anything at all.

Did they keep it all inside, swallow all their sorrow, and put on the best mask on their face?

Were they like her at all?

She tried to understand him, she truly did.

However, as days passed and she began to lose the sense of her body, everything became mushed up. The line between reality and imagination became blurred. With every breath that she took and every little noise that she heard, she felt like something inside her wanted to burst out.

Madoka never complained or whined at her husband. She did not even raise her voice at him.

Until one day, when she broke down in front of him. With tears running down her face, she told him that she could not handle it anymore. She was exhausted and stressed out to her bones.

She needed him and yet he was nowhere to be seen.

“It was as if you were avoiding me and the baby!” She said to him in between her whimpers.

“I’m not avoiding you!”

“Then why…” she wept. “Why are you coming home so late?”

“How many times are we going to have this conversation?” He increased the tone of his voice a little bit. “I am working, Madoka! WORKING! For both of you! Why can’t you understand it?!”

She was used to him raising his voice at her, but that time, it felt different.

It was like something had stabbed her right through her heart, so fast that she lost her breath.

“If you are tired, then fine,” he continued in a half-mocking tone. “I will help.”

Help?

Did he really say that?

Help?!

“Why did you say it like that?” She quipped almost immediately as she wiped her tears away.

He looked at her in disbelief.

“Why are you saying that you will help?!” Madoka gritted her teeth. “Help?! HELP?! ARE YOU HEARING YOURSELF?!”

She could see his eyes were wide and his jaw was tensed. He stepped back a little and looked at her strangely, but Madoka did not care. She kept pushing on.

“WHY ARE YOU HELPING? THIS IS YOUR HOME AND SHE IS YOUR CHILD! YOU SHOULD NOT BE HELPING; YOU SHOULD BE DOING IT IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

Madoka could not remember much after that, except for the fact that she packed her belongings and took her baby in the middle of the night to her parents’ house.

It was messy and stupid—that apartment was hers, why she should be the one who ran away?

However, at that moment, all she could think about was, ‘I need to keep my baby safe’, and nothing about sharing the same roof with a person who thought of his child as something he had to help with, gave the impression of safety.

No one shall hurt her baby, and she would fight anyone for even thinking about such.

She would do anything, even if that meant she had to turn into a bad wife for her husband.

“I want a divorce!” she screamed every time they had their fight and ran away from their apartment—which would happen several times during their marriage.

Then, with the same pattern, her parents and her husband would be down on their knees as they begged her to reconsider.

“Think of the baby!” they said, “She needs both of her parents!”

That did not make sense to her, but perhaps they were right. Despite her animosity toward him, he was still, in some sense, her baby’s father.

Henceforth, as much as she was hesitant to do it, she tried to give their relationship another chance.

Again and again; even if she had to pick up pieces of her heart again for every failed attempt. She would still give him another chance.

All for the sake of her baby.

Madoka smiled as she took hold of her baby—not so much of a baby anymore. She could not believe that it had been almost a year since she came into the world.

She ran her fingers through the soft fuzz of light blonde hair and stared lovingly at the pair of bright chocolate eyes.

The baby raised her hands and tried to reach up to her face.

Madoka leaned down and kissed the sweet little palm of her baby.

Her baby giggled before she opened her mouth, and let out a low and short chirpy sound.

“Mm… M…”

Madoka raised her eyebrows and stared at her baby encouragingly.

“M…Mo… Mo…m… Mom.”

Her baby, oh, her baby.

Her baby, Hitoka, just said her first word.

It was just a word, yet she found herself holding Hitoka closer to her.

Yes, everything was for her. No matter how many times she had to mend her broken heart, she would do it, as she would do anything for Hitoka.

“Are you excited for your first day?”

Madoka looked at Hitoka who looked so tiny underneath the yellow wide-brimmed hat and the light blue uniform.

The girl did not respond. Rather, she hid herself behind her as she glanced warily at the crowded entrance of the kindergarten.

Madoka turned and kneeled in front of her. She smiled and fixed the position of the hat before saying, “What’s wrong? You were excited this morning.”

“I want to go home, Mom,” she held on tightly to her sleeves.

“But we just arrived,” Madoka replied calmly. “What are you scared of?”

Hitoka pouted and shook her head before hugging her.

“… I don’t want to go, Mom.”

Madoka sighed before picking her up and held her in her arms.

“Yes, you must go, Hitoka,” Madoka said as she slowly made her way to the entrance.

Hitoka snuggled into her shoulder and murmured, “Mommy coming too…”

“I can’t, Hitoka, I’m sorry,” Madoka said, “It will be all right, though. You will meet new friends!”

“No…!” she whined.

“Hey, look at me,” she said gently as she took one of Hitoka’s hands.

Hitoka begrudgingly looked at her, and Madoka could see her eyes had turned red and heavy with tears.

Madoka almost yielded, but she persisted.

“Listen, you will be fine without me, Hitoka,” Madoka tried to explain. “I mean, don’t you want to introduce Mr Lion to someone else? To your new friend, perhaps? Or maybe you can introduce Mr Lion to your teacher.”

Madoka smiled as she took off the lion plush keychain that was hung on her tiny bag and showed it to her.

“Mom is enough…” Hitoka half-whispered.

Oh.

If she did not have any restrain and discipline, she would do what Hitoka asked for. However, she could not be selfish. She had to do it for Hitoka.

“Yes, but, I’m pretty sure Mr Lion would like to meet more friends other than Mommy,” Madoka continued. “Don’t you think Mr Lion is lonely?”

Hitoka blinked and murmured, “Mommy think so?”

“Yes!” Madoka smiled. “That’s why we can’t go home, now. Mr Lion will be disappointed if he knew that, don’t you think?”

Hitoka took the lion plushie into her hands and caressed it gently. “Poor Mr Lion,” she whispered.

“Poor Mr Lion indeed,” Madoka rubbed Hitoka’s cheek tenderly before asking, “So? Do you still want to go home?”

She shook her head.

“Attagirl!” Madoka exclaimed proudly as she patted Hitoka on the head.

The photo that she took that day with Hitoka during the entrance ceremony clearly showed that Hitoka was pretty anxious about the whole ordeal.

There was also sadness reflected in her eyes.

Hitoka didn’t say anything about it, but Madoka knew right away what caused it. Which wasn’t hard really, especially since she kept looking at every child whose both parents were present.

Madoka had asked him, no, begged for him to attend the entrance ceremony. However, he declined, claiming that he already had an important meeting that he could not skip over. Therefore, he just wished Hitoka good luck before he left for work that morning.

However, despite such things, Madoka could see the growing determination to fight such uncomfortable feelings in Hitoka’s eyes.

Yes, that’s it, exactly what she wanted to see.

A durable will and a tough soul.

Her baby, Hitoka, had to be strong.

She had to be, she must become someone better than her own mother.

Ever since Hitoka enrolled in kindergarten, household tasks had become more manageable for Madoka. However, it was still exhausting as she had to do everything, from cooking to cleaning, all by herself.

Not to mention that she was the one who had to take Hitoka to the kindergarten every morning and pick her up from there every afternoon with a bike.

Although, she could not really complain much about it since she actually enjoyed it. Hitoka would be snuggly strapped on the backseat while she was pedalling at the front.

Hitoka would talk to her about whatever she did that day in the kindergarten as they made their way through the quaint neighbourhood.

One day, when she picked her up from the kindergarten, Hitoka ran from the entrance and toward her with a paper in her hand. She eagerly shoved the paper to her, forcing her to see it.

It was a picture, a very nice one actually, of a woman with brown hair who was smiling.

“It’s you, Mom!” Hitoka exclaimed.

“Oh?!” Madoka gasped. “You drew me?”

“Yes! Sakamoto-sensei said we should draw one thing that makes us happy!”

Madoka felt her breath caught in her throat.

“So…” her voice broke, “So you drew Mom?”

She nodded, “Yes! Mommy makes me happy!”

Madoka had to keep herself from breaking down in tears in front of the other parents.

“Mom… Will Dad come home early today?”

Madoka glanced away from the dishes that she was doing and toward Hitoka who looked up at her in both curiosity and sadness.

“I’m not sure, Hitoka,” Madoka replied gently as she returned to the task at hand.

That was not a lie. She did not even know when he would be returning.

He almost never answered her call every time she tried to ring his work number or phone. Even if he picked it up, he would just say he was busy and hung up on her.

Honestly, she could not comprehend what kind of busy work he did that warranted him to return so late at night, reeking of alcohol and tobacco.

Whenever she tried to talk to him about it, he would explode. He would call her names and curse her—when all she did was ask for an explanation of his behavior.

It had occurred so often that it became almost like a routine for them every time he came home.

“I do not care what you did out there,” Madoka uttered furiously. “But Hitoka clearly care about it. She missed you! How can you make a child question the whereabout of her father?!”

“Oh, this is it?! You want to make me feel guilty—“

“YOU SHOULD FEEL GUILTY FOR NEGLECTING YOUR CHILD.”

“NEGLECTING?!” he screamed even louder than her, that she was sure the whole floor could hear. “I AM NEGLECTING HER?! SINCE WHEN?! I DID THIS FOR HER TOO! I WORK HARD TO MAKE SURE SHE IS WELL PROVIDED.”

“THAT’S YOUR PROBLEM! THAT’S ALL YOUR TINY BRAIN CAN THINK ABOUT: MONEY, MONEY, AND MONEY. YES, YOU CAN PROVIDE HER WITH YOUR MONEY, BUT EVEN WITH THAT MONEY THAT YOU GAVE HER, SHE STILL CAN’T BUY YOUR ATTENTION.”

“YOU TALKED AS IF YOU ARE ALREADY THE BEST MOTHER FOR HER,” his voice laced with vicious scorn. “YOU ARE NOT!”

Madoka paused as she stared at him in disbelief. Her lips were trembling, and her eyes were twitching painfully. She had to keep herself from swinging her hand at his abhorrent face.

She closed her eyes and covered her face desperately with her hands, trying to even out her breathing. Eventually, she forced herself to look back at him.

“I already know that, and that’s what makes us different,” Madoka replied firmly, “I know I am not perfect, and I don’t pretend like I am.”

His face contorted into a scowl and she could see veins popping in his temples.

“I am not perfect, but at least I was the one who treated her wound after she fell during sports day,” Madoka continued with a sneer. “At least I was there when she cried after the fall, soothing her pain, even though I know it would not do a thing since what hurt the most was the fact that you were not there with her that day… You had inflicted an even bigger wound on her tiny heart.”

Madoka saw him pressing his lips so tight that his teeth were chattering. His face turned red and there was rage in every sharp intake of breath he took.

“The most upsetting thing was, even after all of that, she never once doubted you, or even angry at you,” Madoka looked at him in such pity, but not for him, rather at him. “Do you know what she did after that? She helped me to cook dinner for you since she believed that ‘Dad must be working hard and tired.’

“She stayed, waited, for as long as her body could handle... But alas, you never came. You didn’t come home that night, because of that urgent deadline or whatever that you said…” Madoka whispered in sorrow as she remembered that day. “I… I ended up eating everything in the morning. When she asked, I told her that you returned late last night and ate it all while she was asleep. I also told her how… how proud you are for her cooking skill.”

She saw how his expression shifted from one to the other so rapidly that she couldn't know what he experienced exactly. It was as if he felt everything all at the same time, but he refused to let it show.

In the end, he did not say anything at all. Instead, he walked away from her and locked himself inside his office room.

Madoka had just got back from dropping Hitoka off at the kindergarten when the telephone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is Adachi from Duke Hotel Osaka,” replied a man from the other line.

A hotel?

The man continued to ask who he was speaking to, and when he learned her name, he quickly mentioned the name of her husband.

“What do you need with my husband?”

“Oh, Madam! You must be his wife, then,” he said. “I am calling to reconfirm several things from the booking that your husband has made for the special romantic suite. I tried calling his phone, but it did not reach him. That is why I called here today, for this is the number that is recorded on his credit card.”

Madoka was speechless.

A hotel and a romantic suite? What exactly is he planning to do?

As the staff ran through several pieces of information regarding the booking, Madoka learned that her husband made the reservation several days ago and he booked for a seven-day stay, which coincided with her birthday week.

No! It can not be!

Madoka doubted it, but there was a tiny voice inside her that hoped that it was exactly what she had in mind.

Perhaps, he had a change of heart after their argument and decided to surprise her.

Yes, maybe, there was still a chance after all.

Madoka told the staff to just call her husband later and told him to not tell her husband that she had received his call. The staff agreed and thanked her before he hung up.

Madoka did not say anything, instead, she waited for him to bring that topic up.

However, as days passed, he never once mentioned such a thing to her. Not even when the supposed check-in date was nigh.

It was not until—

“Madoka, I’m going to leave for a business trip.”

Madoka barely looked away from the pile of laundry in the washing machine when she replied, “When?”

“Next week,” he replied tersely.

Next week?

Next week?!

Madoka turned to look at him so fast, which earned a confused look from him.

It could not be! A business trip next week? Impossible! Next week was the supposed date for the hotel booking.

“How long?” she asked calmly.

“A week.”

That’s exactly how long the hotel booking is.

Madoka could feel her heart starting to jump hard against her chest as soon as a realization hit her.

“Are you…” she stumbled upon her words, “Are you going to Osaka?”

He furrowed his brows, “… How did you know?”

“Where?”

“What?”

“Where will you be staying?” Madoka quickly stepped away from the washing machine. “Is it by chance at Duke Hotel?”

She could see the colors drained from his face as she closed the distance between them, and that answered her question, loud and clear.

“Ohhhhh! I wonder what kind of a business trip that needs you to book a romantic suite?” Madoka scoffed. “With your own credit card nonetheless.”

“You…!”

“WHAT?!” Madoka raised her voice and stomped her feet. “ANSWER ME?! WHAT KIND OF A BUSINESS TRIP IS THAT?!”

It was fortunate that Hitoka was playing outside at a park with the neighbor, so she did not have to hold anything back.

“No! Madoka! Listen! You got it all wrong!”

“NO! I REMEMBER IT ALL CLEARLY WHEN THE HOTEL STAFF CALLED ME AND RAN ME THROUGH EACH DETAIL FROM THE BOOKING THAT WAS CLEARLY MADE BY YOUR NAME!”

“UGH!” He grunted irritably as he ran his hands against his hair, another sign that she was right.

“TELL ME!” She screamed, “TELL ME RIGHT NOW WHO ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE TO THAT HOTEL?!”

He did not respond.

“ARE YOU DEAF?! TELL ME—“

“WITH SOMEONE THAT I’M SEEING RIGHT NOW!” He replied with a much harsher tone, and it stung.

It stung so bad that she felt all of the air had left her lungs.

The floor underneath her was swaying, and it would only take one push of a finger for her to fall.

Her eyes were burning and her vision became blurry, but she still stood there, refusing to bow down to him.

She knew it already, at the back of her mind, she knew what his answer was.

However, there was still a part of her that wished otherwise. Because, at the end of the day, she was still searching for any sign of that boy who she met years ago during high school.

So, to have it finally confirmed by him, it felt like a thousand knives were thrown at her.

“Are you…” her voice trembled, “Are you serious?”

He closed his eyes and looked away from her.

Madoka could feel her lips begin to quiver and her whole body shuddered as she tried to process it all.

“How could you…” she murmured.

“… I’m sorry,” he half-whispered.

“Sorry?” She exclaimed, clenching her jaws hard. “YOU ARE SORRY?! YOU SAID?! IS THAT ALL?! IS THAT ALL YOU ARE GOING TO SAY TO ME?! YOU—”

Her words caught in her throat and she could feel her cord tensing painfully with every syllable. She sniffed and gasped for air as tears had covered all of her face. Regardless, she opened her mouth again and continued.

“YOU…! SERIOUSLY?! DID YOU NOT REALIZE THAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO CHEAT ON ME?! I… I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND IT?! YOU ARE LITERALLY PLANNING TO SLEEP WITH ANOTHER WOMAN DURING MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY?!”

He was stunned.

“I MARRIED YOU! I CARRIED YOUR CHILD AND I TOOK CARE OF HER! I COOKED FOR YOU, WASHED YOUR CLOTHES, AND CLEANED AFTER YOU EVERY DAY FOR THE PAST FIVE YEARS, AND I…” she choked and sobbed. “AND I STAYED WITH YOU DESPITE EVERYTHING! I NEVER ASKED FOR MORE! I REMAIN TRUE EVEN THOUGH YOU NEVER LOOKED AT MY WAY ANYMORE. I STILL REMAIN TRUE—AND THIS IS HOW YOU PAY ME?!”

“Madoka, please! Listen—“

“NO! NO! NO! I AM DONE LISTENING TO YOU!” Madoka retaliated before running toward their room. She slammed the wardrobe open and threw out all of his clothes to the ground.

“MADOKA!”

“LEAVE MY HOUSE RIGHT FUCKING NOW, YOU ASSHOLE!” She cursed in between her tears and fury. “PICK UP YOUR THINGS! WHAT?! YOU CAN’T DO THAT? I DON’T CARE. DON’T EXPECT ME TO DO IT FOR YOU!”

“MADOKA! PLEASE!” He called, and he dared to cry in front of her. He even kneeled on his knees and tried to kiss her feet, but she quickly shoved it away.

“I SAID LEAVE!” She insisted. “GO STAY WITH YOUR NEW GIRLFRIEND OR WHATEVER. I DON’T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU!”

“Madoka! Please, listen to me!” he sobbed. “You can’t do this!”

“YES, I CAN! IN FACT, I’M GOING TO DIVORCE YOU! AND THIS TIME, NO ONE WILL BE STOPPING ME.”

“YOU CAN’T!” He continued as he wept on the floor. “I CAN’T LEAVE HITOKA!”

She laughed, hard.

“What? Now you want to be her father?” She scoffed. “Where were you all this time?”

“Madoka…”

After many more heated arguments between the two, Madoka eventually gave him another night to stay so he could spend some time with Hitoka before he left for good.

Madoka called her parents and explained what happened before asking them to take Hitoka away tomorrow. They wanted to ask more questions but Madoka shut them all down. She was not in the right mood to talk about it.

They agreed to take Hitoka away to the zoo and promised to come early in the morning.

That night, Madoka let him tuck Hitoka to bed and read her a bedtime story. She later found him sleeping on the floor in Hitoka’s bedroom.

The next day, after Hitoka had left with her parents, without having to say anything, he picked up his belongings and left without saying anything.

Madoka spent the first half of the day searching for the right attorney and consulting with them about her intention to divorce him—she did not want to spare even a minute. Her choice was final.

After that, she spent the other half of the day crying on the dining chair.

Yes, she wanted this. However, that did not erase the fact that she had failed her marriage and her dream.

Yes, the dream that she was taught to have ever since she was a child. That dream of meeting the love of her life and spending the rest of their lives together was beyond her reach now. Now she would be known as a pathetic single mom.

Not only that, but she had also disappointed her parents. She had subjected them to be judged by others, for they had failed to keep their daughter married.

She had failed in life, both as a woman and as a child.

The worst thing of it all, Hitoka would be the one who suffered the most.

Hitoka had to accept the fact that she would no longer have her two parents together under the same roof. From now on, she would be known as a poor broken-home girl.

Oh, if only Madoka was stronger and braver. Perhaps she could prevent all of this from happening. Alas, she was not.

Now she had to wallow in the dilemma of whether she should tell Hitoka the truth right away or should she keep it. Honestly, how should she tell a four-year-old girl about such a major change in her life without hurting her development?

Did she do the right thing? Did she instead rob Hitoka by breaking her family; by taking one of her parents away from her life?

Ding dong!

Madoka looked at the door and realized that it was already time for Hitoka to return.

She quickly dried her tears away.

No, she would not cry.

From now on, I have to be strong. I have to be strong for her.

She would not be a bad example for Hitoka.

She would raise her to be strong. Strong enough so she would not be left as a fool by someone else.

Yes, her child must grow up to be strong.

It took many months until their divorce was settled, and all the while she had to take care of Hitoka alone.

During that time, she also met the mistress of her ex-husband. Who had the audacity to say that she was too young—she indeed was—to become a stepmother to a child. Therefore, for that reason, she argued that Hitoka should stay with her real mother.

Madoka did not mind that, as a matter of fact, she really wanted to gain that custody.

However, she never thought that her ex-husband would not be against such a ridiculous notion. He rather agreed that it was best for Hitoka to stay with her mother.

As much as Madoka wanted Hitoka to be with her, she did not want the divorce to affect Hitoka. She still hoped that the both of them could work together as parents for Hitoka.

Unfortunately, it seemed that he did not share that idea.

It was easy for the court to grant the custody of Hitoka to her because her ex-husband did not put much of a fight or even acted like he wanted the custody. He settled for only having to pay for child support.

The transition period was very hard to navigate. Madoka had to find many ways to explain a lot of complicated situations to a four-year-old child. For example, she had to explain to Hitoka why they had to change their family name, or why she would see less of her father.

It was hard enough for Madoka to always make up a lie for Hitoka every time she asked for her father as she never saw him again after that day.

Madoka tried to persuade him to at least call Hitoka, but he always had many excuses to not do it. It was as if he was avoiding his own child for some unexplainable reason.

Even when Madoka informed him that she would take Hitoka to another prefecture—which would make their meeting much harder to arrange—he did not seem to be bothered by that. He just told her to be safe in the new prefecture.

She never really thought of moving out before, but since it was the only place that was willing to offer an inexperienced woman with a young child a full-time job, Madoka could not pass the chance.

Therefore, not too long after their divorce was settled. Madoka moved out of Fukushima with Hitoka in her arms and moved into an apartment in a small city in Miyagi.

The moving was a lot for Hitoka.

Moving to a more crowded city and adjusting to a new place, right after her parents divorced, were no easy tasks.

Especially since Madoka had started working, she had no choice but to put Hitoka in daycare—and unlike kindergarten where Hitoka had to be only for several hours, Hitoka had to stay in the daycare from morning until late evening.

Madoka would pick her up after work and saw that Hitoka was restless, and her eyes were puffy. The teachers would tell her that Hitoka would not do anything except cry. She didn’t want to be approached by most of the teachers there.

Madoka would feel bad for the teachers, but fortunately, they were very understanding. They even kindly advised her to make an appointment with a child psychologist.

Which gave Madoka a brand-new challenge, and that was to persuade Hitoka to see one.

She wanted Hitoka to be strong, but every time her little girl cried—which had become a regular thing in their new household—Madoka would relent.

She wanted Hitoka to be strong, but she hated to see her baby sad.

It was not just that, ever since they moved to the new apartment, Hitoka would come to her room in the middle of the night, with a face as pale as a white sheet, and plead to sleep with her because she was sure there was a monster in her room.

Madoka would pull Hitoka into her embrace and gently reassure her. Hitoka would often ask her to sing a lullaby, and she would gladly do it.

During those nights, as she rubbed soothing touches to Hitoka’s hair, Madoka would wish for time to stop.

She wished for Hitoka to never grow up, so she would not have to face all of the pain and sorrow of life.

She wished for her to stay the same, to remain her baby, so she could always protect her under her arms.

Forever.

It took her many attempts until Hitoka wanted to see a psychologist, and it took many more until Hitoka would finally settle down into her new life in Miyagi.

Once Hitoka entered primary school, Madoka was able to leave Hitoka all on her own.

Unlike before, Hitoka seemed to be able to adjust to her new routine as a first-grade student quite well. She was still anxious at first, but Madoka was able to reassure her—this time without the help of Mr Lion.

With the limited money that she earned, Madoka had to sort her priorities. Therefore, she could not introduce Hitoka to various activities that children her age should explore, like music, sports, or dancing.

Fortunately, there was one thing that she knew very well and could teach Hitoka about, and that was art. So, she would often buy Hitoka drawing books or even sketchbooks for her to use.

She did not think much from it. Sure, Hitoka seemed to enjoy creating art—there would always be new drawings that she brought from kindergarten and daycare.

However, Madoka tried to not push Hitoka in the same direction as her. She wanted Hitoka to find her own calling without any intervention, and most importantly, she did not want Hitoka to turn like her.

But then, one day, when Madoka returned home from work. She found Hitoka waiting near the genkan with a big smile on her face.

“Mom!” Hitoka greeted as she hugged her. “Welcome back!”

Madoka chuckled and rubbed her hair, “I’m back! Did you wait long?”

She looked up to her and shook her head.

“Good,” Madoka held Hitoka’s hand and led her to the living area. “How was school?”

“It was fun! I made a new friend! Her name is Mia.”

“Oh, really? That’s wonderful!” Madoka said as she put her bag on the couch and walked toward the kitchen to prepare for dinner. Hitoka trailed behind her like a little duckling.

“I also joined the art club, Mom!”

“The art club?” Madoka asked while she put on her apron.

“Yes, Mommy! The art club!”

“Oh?” Madoka folded her sleeves and turned on the kitchen faucet. “I did not expect you to choose that, Hitoka. I mean, don’t you want to try and join another club?”

“No!” She insisted. “I want to be in the art club! I want to paint and draw.”

“But why?”

“Because I want to be like Mom!” She exclaimed enthusiastically, “I want to create beautiful things like you, Mommy!”

Madoka abruptly stopped moving her hands under the running water. She turned away to look at Hitoka, and all she could see was her delighted innocent face looking up at her.

Parents always want their children to be their own person, but of course, whether they realize it or not, they have an idea about how they want their children to turn out.

That included Madoka.

She wanted Hitoka to be her own person, to not become like her, but truth be told, there was a part of herself that wanted Hitoka to also love art like she did.

Therefore, to learned that Hitoka, her baby, shared the same love with art as her. Madoka was so touched.

She could feel tears welling up in her eyes after Hitoka said it, but Madoka held herself.

She should not cry in front of Hitoka.

Just as the clock stroked midnight, Madoka knocked on Hitoka’s door before opening it. She turned on the lamp and she could see Hitoka stirred up from her sleep.

Madoka sang happy birthday softly as she held a chocolate cake with the candles of one and zero on it.

Hitoka looked at her, first confusedly and perhaps half-asleep, before she fully came to her senses and realized what happened. She smiled as she sat up on the bed.

“Happy birthday, Hitoka!” Madoka said as she sat next to her. “Make a wish!”

Hitoka closed her eyes and Madoka could see her face grimacing a little as the girl made her wish.

After quite some time, Hitoka opened her eyes again and blew the candles off.

“Thank you, Mom!” Hitoka said good-naturedly.

However, Madoka could feel that something was off with the way she acted. No, in fact, she was sure something must have happened because Hitoka had been acting strange lately.

“What’s wrong?” Madoka asked as she put the cake away.

She quickly shook her head. “Nothing! Why do you ask?”

“Hitoka?” Madoka called gently. “Tell me.”

“I said it’s nothing…” she lowered her gaze.

“If it is indeed nothing, then look at me in the eyes,” she challenged.

Hitoka did not respond or even look at her.

“Hito—“

“Mom…” she whispered. “Do… Do you think Dad hates me?”

“What?” Madoka furrowed her brows, “Why do you think that? Of course, not. He doesn’t hate you.”

“Then why did he never want to see me again?”

Madoka bit her tongue, not sure how to answer her question—even though she knew that Hitoka would ask that eventually.

“That must be because he hates me, right?” She asked desperately, her voice breaking. “I’m a good-for-nothing kid after all…”

“No!” Madoka immediately replied. “Who said that?”

Hitoka would not answer.

“Hitoka, listen to me!” She demanded as she took Hitoka’s hands.

Hitoka looked at her hesitantly, but Madoka held her firmly.

“Listen!” She stared straight into her eyes. “You are not a good-for-nothing kid, Hitoka. You are good, no, more than that, you are wonderful.”

Madoka could see Hitoka’s eyes were red and misty.

“But… What if Dad actually hates me?”

“Then I will start to love you even more,” Madoka said. “Will that be enough?”

“Mom…” Hitoka murmured before she began to cry her eyes out.

Madoka stayed and held her close, afraid if she let go, Hitoka would crumble.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m sorry, Hitoka…”

Why did her child suffer so greatly when she had never been anything but nice?

Why must the universe be cruel and unfair to her child?

Was it impossible for her to be happy? Would her child be tied up to this burden forever?

It was only later that she learned that Hitoka was told by one of her classmates—who learned that Hitoka did not live with her father—that the reason she was left behind was because she was a good-for-nothing child.

Madoka then came to the school to scold the parents of that kid and she even made sure that the kid apologize to Hitoka.

Sometimes, a parent and their child would grow apart. Maybe it was for a reason or maybe it was because of just how things naturally grow.

In her case, Madoka thought that she clearly, whether she liked it or not, made her relationship with Hitoka grow a bit astray.

However, she had her own reasons for that.

Not too long after Hitoka started middle school, Madoka left her job to establish her own design company.

It was a very risky move, even her parents were against it, but Madoka kept going anyway.

She did have to leave Hitoka alone until late in the night, and it did make her feel bad. But, she saw it as a necessary sacrifice.

Besides, Hitoka was already old enough for her to be left alone, and she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Moreover, Hitoka never commented or complained about it to her.

Even when Madoka would reprimand Hitoka for a thing or two, Hitoka had never talked back to her. She would just apologize to her and promise to be good or to fix it.

Madoka still tried to care for Hitoka by preparing meals for her—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. However, as she continued to return home late and stayed up late, Hitoka quickly took over the role.

Ever since then, Hitoka became the one to cook for them.

She also learned how to clean the house and how to do the laundry.

For that reason, Hitoka decided to leave the photography club that she took in school. She claimed that she just wanted to come home early. Besides, she could still do photography on the side as a hobby.

Madoka knew that she was not telling the truth, but it was easier to pretend it was.

After all, that was her goal in the first place, right? To raise Hitoka to be strong so she would not feel like she was weak and needed anyone to help her.

However, Madoka failed to realize until it was very late that she had sacrificed their relationship for the sake of her own ideal.

Hitoka had matured, but perhaps a bit too fast. For a child her age, she was too reserved and too calm. She never once threw a tantrum or whined about anything.

She just accepted everything and followed along quietly from the side while keeping it all inside her.

If only Madoka could go back. She would try to be more present in Hitoka’s life during that particular time of her life and allow her the luxury of becoming a child.

Madoka wanted to raise her child to be strong.

Yet, she did not think she could take full credit for that.

No, perhaps she never did anything at all.

It was Hitoka all along who was able to raise her own self to become such a wonderful human being.

“Mom!”

Madoka still remembered her daughter’s loud yell at the station that fateful day.

“Even villager B can fight too!”

Madoka also remembered pretty clearly how determined Hitoka looked when she said that.

“I’m going to be the volleyball club manager!”

Madoka should be happy that her baby had grown up and become a person that Madoka herself could never be.

Yet, she found herself in tears.

“Senpai, are you crying?!”

Yes, she did cry. What about it?

How could she not cry when her baby, her sweet baby, was no longer a baby?

Before she knew it, Hitoka would not need her mother anymore.

Hitoka had changed.

For the first time, Madoka could see a fire burning inside her. She could tell that Hitoka put everything into her new role as a manager.

No, that was not right.

Perhaps, Hitoka had always been like that from the beginning, she just did not see it.

That was who Hitoka truly was.

A young girl with so much love and passion that she unknowingly spread to others; automatically brightened up everything in her vicinity.

Just like a star.

Hitoka began to open up more about her life at school, and more specifically, about her activity in the boy volleyball club.

She clearly loved where she was currently at, and it seemed there were always new stories every day for Madoka to hear about.

Sometimes she talked about her senior, the one who recruited her in the first place, and how she wished she could become a cool senior like that in the future.

She also spoke very highly about the other seniors at the club and how amazing they were as a team, as well as the other four boys in her year that she was close with.

She had met the two of them, and they seemed to be good kids.

Truth be told, at first, she was a bit worried about the idea of Hitoka managing a group of teenage boys. However, from her stories, she could tell that they were all treating her very well.

Madoka also learned a lot of things about volleyball from Hitoka, and in turn, Madoka would guide Hitoka whenever she wanted to design something.

She had grown even more closer to Hitoka than ever before thanks to the volleyball club.

However, it did make Madoka wonder about several things.

Why did Hitoka choose to keep that side of her from her mother? Was she scared of her?

Was her assistant right about her being too harsh to her that it turned her into a passive girl?

But then, when she asked about it to her assistant, his answer was simple.

“We, naturally, care very much about what parents think about us.”

“What do you mean?” Madoka asked.

“I believe she did not want you to think of her as a burden,” he continued. “That’s why she chose to not say anything to you for years, out of consideration that you were busy, senpai. That was her attempt to help you.”

“You think so…?”

He nodded. “Which also explains why she changed. She wanted to show you that she’s as strong and independent as you want her to be. Maybe that’s also why she spoke to you about the club so much. She wanted you to be proud of her and to not worry about her. Perhaps, that was her way of telling you to, ‘Look at me, Mom! Look at what I can do now!’”

Due to her schedule, Madoka would not really be able to take many days off. Therefore, she often could not make it every time there was an event at the school. The only time she would be at school was for the parent-teacher conferences.

However, when Hitoka was in her third year of high school, Madoka’s assistant persuaded her to try and visit the school during the cultural festival. It would make Hitoka feel like her mother cared for her life and for what she did—or so he said.

“Besides, you will not get this kind of chance again after she graduates from high school.”

Therefore, one Saturday afternoon in early November, Madoka visited the cultural festival of Karasuno High School.

Hitoka was ecstatic when she saw her come to her class.

She explained that her class decided to hold a mini summer festival—even though it’s already November—in the classroom.

Hitoka herself was wearing a light pink yukata while holding a sign to attract visitors to the class.

She eagerly pulled her inside and showed her all the booths and decorations that they had prepared.

Madoka was impressed actually by how a bunch of high-school kids were able to turn their boring classroom into something so festive. From the illustration on the chalkboard to the red lanterns and the colorful paper cuts that adorned almost every corner of the wall.

They even covered the floors with meters of red felt fabric and put several drawings of fireworks on the windows. They also lined the walls with red and white strips of paper that were often used during actual summer festivals.

Hitoka walked her through the games that they had. There was a shooting game, a ring toss game, and yo-yo tsuri—a balloon fishing game—which they made by putting a huge inflatable pool in the classroom and filling it with water and balloons.

Madoka tried every game and the person who took charge in every booth would note her score. By the end of it, she could redeem her score with several trinkets.

The games were all right and the prize did not value much.

However, seeing Hitoka smiling and laughing at her various failed attempts during the game made the whole experience much more rewarding for Madoka.

Hitoka even claimed that she was the one who did the illustrations on the chalkboard, and she was also part of the team that helped design the layout of the booths.

Therefore, when Hitoka asked about how she thought about it, Madoka said:

“I have some notes on the decorations,” Madoka said before she smiled at her, “But, overall, I think it’s good.”

“Ah!” Hitoka’s face lightened up, “I’m glad you like it, Mom!”

“Hold on, I said it’s good.”

Hitoka chuckled, “I know! I—”

“Yachi-san.”

A voice suddenly called and both of them turned around.

Madoka was startled to find a very tall young man—who was wearing a class shirt and black gakuran trousers—with blond hair and glasses standing in front of her. Funnily enough, the same could be said about the young student who was equally as surprised as her.

“Oh, Tsukishima-kun!” Hitoka greeted before looking at her. “Mom, this is Tsukishima-kun, from the volleyball club.”

Hitoka then shifted her attention back toward him and said, “Tsukishima-kun, this is my mother! She came to visit our class today!”

Madoka had heard about this Tsukishima from Hitoka several times throughout the year. However, she never really met him before. She had only seen him from photos that Hitoka would often show to her—and mostly it was a group photo from either the club or a match.

Therefore, to finally see him in person, Madoka was shocked by how tall he actually was.

She wondered what kids eat these days to have them grow so gangly.

He bowed his head politely and said, “Thank you, Ma’am. I do hope you liked it.”

“She does,” Hitoka immediately answered before she could reply to it herself.

“That’s great,” there was a small smile in his expression as he said, “I guess your hard work paid off, Yachi-san.”

From every photo that Madoka saw about him, he would either frown or scowl. Even if he smiled, it looked a bit condescending. Madoka had to ask Hitoka whether he was a problematic kid or not.

Hitoka would tell her that it was just his default expression. In reality, he’s not a bad person.

Madoka used to have her doubts, thinking that perhaps Hitoka was being too nice about it.

However, now that she had seen him, she could see where Hitoka was coming from. He appeared to be nice and respectful, but most importantly, Hitoka seemed to be comfortable around him.

“Anyway, what’s the matter, Tsukishima-kun?” Hitoka continued.

“I just want to remind you that your shift will be over soon,” he said.

Hitoka quickly looked at the clock in the classroom and let out a gasp, “Ah! You’re right!”

“Yeah, you should probably start changing, Yachi-san.”

“Yes! Thank you, Tsukishima-kun!”

He nodded at her before he excused himself. He then went to the ring toss booth and switched places with another student.

Madoka then helped Hitoka change out of her yukata into her class shirt and school skirt. After that, Hitoka changed shifts with another girl and bid her farewell to the other classmates.

Hitoka said she still had an hour or so before her shift for the volleyball club started, and so she decided to take Madoka around to kill the time.

They went around the building to see what each of the classes had to offer. Madoka didn’t want to say it outright, but she was quite impressed with how the young generation had become more creative with the festival. They offer more varieties, and they put a lot of effort into the decoration. A lot different than what she and her peers did back then.

After that, they went outside to see what food was being sold.

They ended up buying a crepe, a bowl of takoyaki, and two soda floats. They sat at one of the benches outside and ate the food together as they watched quietly all the visitors that passed by.

The foods were nothing remarkable and the ice cream was already melted on the watered-down soda. However, she felt somehow satisfied.

“Hey, Mom…” Hitoka suddenly called.

“Yes?”

“You see, I’ve been thinking lately…” Hitoka murmured as she stirred the soda float with the straw, “… about my future, I mean.”

Madoka raised her brows and looked at her curiously.

“And…?” Madoka asked.

Hitoka fidgeted slightly in her seat before she finally said, “I think I want to pursue communication design as my major.”

Hitoka might take after her in terms of artistic interest and follow after her in terms of career. However, at its core, Hitoka was very different from Madoka.

Unlike her, Hitoka was a very active university student. Amidst the big load of academic obligations, Hitoka still joined several student clubs in her university.

Therefore, ever since Hitoka started university, she would often come home late. It was rare for both of them to be able to have meals together.

As much as she tried to understand that Hitoka was no longer a teenager, she still felt a bit melancholy whenever she came from work to an empty apartment. There was no longer Hitoka welcoming her with a plate of warm meals or a story to tell.

She missed those days.

However, she should not think like that. She should support whatever endeavor that Hitoka wanted to take. Besides, she considered it as a practice.

After all, Hitoka would not live with her forever. Right?

She would have her own family someday.

Even so, that did not make it any easier.

If she could keep Hitoka with her forever, she would.

But, no, she should not.

Her employees always said that she was a strict boss, and Madoka knew she was.

She treated everyone the same way, and that included her own daughter who started to work part-time as an intern at her company.

Hitoka would not be excluded from any correction, discipline, or commentary if Madoka was not satisfied with her work.

Even others would say that she was being too stern with her own daughter.

However, she did it for a reason. She did not want others to underestimate Hitoka’s skills solely because she was a relative. Rather, Madoka hoped that others would know that Hitoka had what it takes to be there.

Moreover, she wanted Hitoka to grasp and learn how the industry works. So, hopefully, in the future, she already know what to do once she takes over the compa—

“Mom… I want to move to Tokyo.”

Madoka almost dropped her sushi when she heard Hitoka break the news to her.

“What?!” Madoka said in a voice that was too loud, attracting the attention of several customers in the restaurant to their table. Yet, Madoka did not care about that. All she cared for was her daughter.

“I don’t mean now,” she hastily clarified. “I know you want me to work for you, and I do like working with you, Mom, but…”

“… but?”

“But, I feel there are still so many things that I don’t know yet, and I really want to find out more about it all by myself.”

Madoka put her chopsticks down as she felt her heart grow heavy. However, she quickly put on the mask of indifference as she followed it up with a question.

“I understand,” Madoka said, “but what does Tokyo have to do with it?”

“Honestly, I don’t know…” she explained. “I just know that I have to go there. I know this sounds ridiculous, but I feel like whatever might happen there, may change me.”

“Changed you for the good?”

“I believe so, or at least I hope,” she smiled awkwardly.

“I see…” Madoka said as she smiled gently at Hitoka, “Is that final?”

She nodded, “It is.”

“So, nothing I say will change your mind, right?” Madoka remarked teasingly. “Well, not that I want to change your mind.”

Hitoka eyes sparkled. “So? Does that mean you are okay with that, Mom?”

“Of course,” Madoka replied reassuringly. “Whatever you want to do, I will support you.”

“Oh, Mom…” Hitoka murmured, clearly touched by her answer. “Thank you!”

Yes, that’s right. No matter what, Madoka would always support her daughter.

Even if that meant they had to live so far away from each other. Even if that meant she would return home to an empty and cold apartment. Even if that meant her baby would no longer need her anymore.

She still would support her decision, no matter how it left a painful taste in her heart.

After all, was that not the proof that her baby had become a lot stronger, even stronger than her?

No, it was not quite true. Madoka was never a strong one, she just acted like she was.

Deep inside, she was nothing more than a weak person who cried on the train after dropping her daughter off in Tokyo.

“Mom, I have to tell you something…”

Oh no.

That sentence! That cursed sentence. No one wanted to hear anything that started with that kind of sentence.

Madoka could feel she was sinking on the couch as Hitoka stood nervously next to it. She just arrived from Tokyo and wanted to stay for the new year.

Madoka’s mind began to conjure up many different scenarios that might prompt Hitoka to say something like that, and all of them were not happy ones. In fact, all she could think about was the most gruesome or scariest things one could think of.

It would not be possible right that she—

“I have a boyfriend.”

Oh.

She immediately felt her shoulders relaxed.

“Ah. It’s about that,” Madoka remarked nonchalantly and looked back at the television. “I already know.”

“Wait…!” Hitoka quickly sat next to her. “YOU KNEW?!”

“You don’t have to scream,” Madoka scolded. “Anyway, yes. It’s that Tsukishima guy, right?”

“W…W… What?!” She stammered as she waved her hands frantically. “B-but HOW?!”

Madoka did not even bother to look away from the screen when she answered, “It’s not hard. It’s not like you keep it a secret from me.”

“What do you mean?!”

“Every time you are here, you always go out once or twice with him, alone. Not to mention that he also made several trips to Tokyo to see you,” she shrugged. “It did not take me long to put two and two together.”

“No, no, no, no, no!” Hitoka quickly interjected. “You got it wrong! We weren’t dating back then.”

It was Madoka’s turn this time to be shocked, “You weren’t?”

“No… We just started dating for like, what, a month?”

“Okay, that’s ridiculous,” Madoka shook her head. “I thought you two were already together since earlier this year.”

“WELL,” Hitoka cringed, “Apparently he thought so too… So did his family…”

Madoka bursted into laughter while Hitoka was clearly embarrassed and told her to stop laughing.

“What were you thinking about?” Madoka teased. “That he just wanted to be your friend?”

“…Yes.”

“Oh, you’re such a silly girl,” Madoka pinched her cheek.

Hitoka pushed her hand away and pouted, “If you knew about it, why didn't you say a thing, Mom?”

“I just thought you weren’t ready to tell me yet,” Madoka replied. “I don’t want to force you to tell me something just because I’m your mother.”

Hitoka smiled, “That’s fair… I appreciate that, Mom.”

“And I should say thank you for finally telling me, Hitoka.”

“Of course, Mom—and speaking of that,” Hitoka cleared her throat, “Since his brother will get married next spring, and they are going to invite us, I thought it would be nice if you get to meet him first, Mom. I mean, I know you’ve already met him before, but this time, I want you to really know him. So, hopefully, it will not be awkward when you finally meet his family—Well, that’s if you want to come to the wedding.”

“I will come for sure,” Madoka said, “and yes, I would love to meet him again.”

“Thank you, Mom,” Hitoka jumped on her seat to hug her, “You are the best!”

“Mom! Mom!”

Madoka who was lying on the couch sat up immediately—even though it made her head spin—at the all too familiar voice that yelled at her with such desperation that set up an alarm in Madoka herself.

“What? What is it?” Madoka mumbled hoarsely.

There, from the direction of the entrance, she saw Hitoka and Kei standing there, looking at her with worried expressions on their faces.

“You two—cough—what are you two doing here?”

Hitoka put away all her belongings on the ground and hastily went to kneel on the floor beside her. “Mom, are you all right? Do you need something? I bought some medicines for you.”

“Cough—Hold on, aren’t you two supposed to be on a date?”

“We cancelled it,” Kei explained, one hand was full of Hitoka’s belongings, and another was holding something covered in furoshiki.

“But why?” Madoka looked at the two of them in confusion. “How can you two cancel it? Isn’t it supposed to be your anniversary?”

“How can we celebrate it when you’re sick, Mom?” Hitoka said.

“Hitoka, I’m not dying. I just have a cold.”

“Still! It doesn’t feel right to just leave you alone, Mom.”

“I’m fine, Hitoka. I can take care of myself—“

“But I want to take care of you,” Hitoka interjected as she took her hands. “I can have many more dates with Kei, but I only have one mother.”

Madoka blamed her sentimentality and teary eyes on her illness.

“She’s right,” Kei added—who had just put away all of the things in his hands on its respective places —and kneeled beside Hitoka. “Your health is more important, Madoka-san.”

“Exactly! Did you hear that, Mom?” Hitoka smiled. “So, really, don’t worry about it!”

“My parents sent their regards to you, Madoka-san,” Kei continued. “Also, my mother made some meals for you, so you don’t have to cook while you recover.”

“Oh… That’s very nice—cough—of her. Please give both of your parents my gratitude,” Madoka replied gently. “Regardless… I feel bad for you two. This is really unnecessary.”

“Please, not another word, Mom,” Hitoka squeezed her hands, “Besides, we do have another reason to be here today.”

“Another reason?” Madoka raised her eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

Hitoka and Kei exchanged a look, and from the silent glances they gave to each other, they seemed to have reached a mutual agreement.

The two of them then turned their attention back to her. Kei’s expression was still the same as he usually had, but Hitoka was smiling from ear to ear.

“Well… We want to tell you that…” Hitoka suddenly raised her hand, as if wanting Madoka to see it.

And she did see it.

Around her tiny finger, there was a white gold ring with an oval-shaped white stone that was glowing underneath the apartment light.

Then it hit her.

Madoka gasped as her eyes shot open and her hands were shaking.

“…You! It can’t be!” Madoka stumbled upon her words as her heart was beating loudly against her chest. “You two are—“

“Engaged!” Hitoka exclaimed happily.

“I… I… I can’t believe it!” Madoka said hastily before looking at Kei who was now smiling at her. “You finally did it!”

“Yes,” his smile grew wider, “I finally did it.”

Truth be told, out of all of the days on the calendar, she was upset that they chose to tell her on the day she was unwell. Because, as she had said before, her illness made it hard for her to control her emotions.

Therefore, as soon as she realized that Hitoka was indeed engaged, Madoka could no longer keep her tears from falling.

Hitoka later jokingly said that Madoka cried way more than she did during the actual proposal.

“Hitoka is engaged,” she said to her phone as she put her coffee cup down on the table.

“Oh, she is?”

“Yes.” Madoka sat on the chair and stirred the coffee in her cup. “They already decided on the wedding date.”

“I see… That’s great.”

She hummed and sipped her coffee before she continued, “Just to be clear, you are not invited. She does not want you to be there.”

“I understand.”

Ever since her ex-husband reached out to her several years ago, he had been consistently asking her about Hitoka. Madoka herself had been telling him a little about Hitoka, but only about her general well-being and nothing else.

He also would ask whether he could meet Hitoka or not, to which Madoka would always reply with: ‘It depends on Hitoka’.

She was not really against the idea of Hitoka meeting her father, even if said father was absent for most of her life—and not for once pay for the child support. In the end, it would be Hitoka’s choice whether she wants to meet him or not.

Nevertheless, that did not mean she liked it.

Therefore, as cruel as it might sound, she felt quite happy that Hitoka always refused the offer.

Hitoka would always tell her that she never really felt like she had a father, so she thought it would be weird to meet one and act like they had a connection.

He did not say anything when he learned that Hitoka rejected the idea, but Madoka assumed he was disappointed.

She hoped he was; she hoped it hurt so bad.

However, despite that, Hitoka was still kind enough to let Madoka tell him about the engagement news. But only that, and nothing more.

“How is she?” The voice asked her again.

“She is happy, the happiest I’ve ever seen her, probably,” Madoka answered and found herself smiling at the thought.

“I’m sure. You did well raising her.”

“I wish,” Madoka scoffed, “I don’t know how someone like me could raise such a strong and sweet girl like her. Honestly, she has grown to be someone even better than me.”

“Even better than us.”

“Yes,” Madoka smiled proudly. “Even better than us.”

Sometimes Madoka wondered how a person like her and him could make the most wonderful human being in the world.

But she was glad it was the case because it meant that Hitoka did not become like him or even her.

She had become her own person.

Out of all the things that she had created throughout her life, Hitoka was the best one, and nothing would ever come close.

“Are you nervous?”

Hitoka glanced at her, and even if her face were hidden behind the thin white veil, Madoka could discern a joyful expression painted on her face.

“A little,” Hitoka replied cheekily.

“Oh?” Madoka exclaimed in awe. “Only a little?”

She nodded, “Strange, right? I don’t believe it myself, but it’s the truth. I don’t really feel nervous.”

They both were standing outside the venue and from there, she could hear a soft murmur coming from the inside. It seemed the ceremony had already started.

“I think it’s great that you don’t feel nervous.”

“I suppose you are right, Mom,” Hitoka smiled. “I can’t wait to go inside, actually.”

“I can imagine,” Madoka chuckled as she fixed the position of her veil. “I’m sure this will be the best day of your life.”

“Of course, it will be,” Hitoka replied almost immediately, “Every day with you is the best day of my life, Mom.”

“Oh, you!” Madoka scolded firmly, “Don’t make me cry now, I have makeup on.”

Hitoka laughed, “Okay, sorry!”

Right at the same time, a wedding officer came and told them to be ready.

Madoka immediately offered her hand to Hitoka which the latter took with much excitement.

Then, as the tall double door was opened right in front of their eyes, and the soft light of the venue welcomed them, she heard Hitoka whisper to her.

“Will this also be the best day of your life, Mom?”

Before she could answer, she heard the soft music start, and she found herself leading Hitoka inside.

At the end of the path, near the beautiful floral arch, stood the man who would become Hitoka’s husband.

Even from afar, she could tell that he was holding himself from tearing up—an exceedingly rare sight for her and everyone else.

Meanwhile, when Madoka turned to see Hitoka, she noticed that Hitoka was both holding her laughter and her cry. The hand that was holding onto her was shaking, but Madoka knew it was not from anxiety.

Instead, it came from her heart, and her heart was in the right place.

Right where Hitoka should be, the life that she chose for herself.

“Will this also be the best day of your life, Mom?”

No.

This will not be the best day of my life.

I am already living my best life.

-fin-