Suddenly, a month had passed since Shuuji had come face to face with the clone. The house was still unknown to people around them, and no one seemed to have noticed the clone’s existence yet at all. They were fortunate that the vacation house wasn’t near any other residences, and that neither one of them had a large circle of friends.

– – –

With the meeting ended early, and having skipped lunch, Shuuji got back to the vacation house earlier than he’d planned.

“I’m back.”

Shuuji opened the door, and called out as he went in. He immediately heard someone running down the stairs.

“Welcome home.”

The clone came to greet him, a smile stretched across his whole face.

So there was someone this happy to greet him, huh. A heat spread through Shuuji’s chest. It’d always been Shuuji’s role to greet Koutarou, when they’d been going out. It was only because he’d decided not to immediately abandon the clone that he was being greeted at all, and it was only because he was actually living with the clone that he’d learned how warm the words ‘welcome home’ could really be.

“Here you go. As you requested.” Shuuji flashed an enticing smile, and offered the clone the job listings magazine, still in its bag.

“Thanks. I’ll peruse it later.”

– – –

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, but Shuuji ended up dozing off without really meaning to. He only woke up because his nose was tickled by the aroma of dashi wafting over from the kitchen.

“What are you making?” Shuuji asked the clone, lifting himself up and seeing the clone turned away from him.

“It’s not really the season for it, but I thought we could have some hot pot,” the clone answered, turning around. “Did the nap help any?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

More than that, he didn’t want the clone to worry too much, so Shuuji adopted a composed attitude, got to his feet, and headed into the kitchen. He figured there might be something he could help with. The dining room was in between the living room and the kitchen, and the fried rice was still there on the table, untouched.

“I’m sorry. You went through all that trouble to make it for me too…”

Feelings of guilt and regret came back to him, and Shuuji hung his head as he apologized. It wasn’t just that he hadn’t been able to finish the meal, he felt bad that his uncertain attitude was hurting both versions of Koutarou.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make it my dinner. I made enough to have it for two meals in one day, no problem.”

He was probably just trying not to worry Shuuji, but there was a boastful edge to the clone’s voice too. “I think maybe I have a bit of a talent for cooking.”

The clone left the kitchen, and his eyes stopped on the magazine that had been left at the dining room table. It was the job listings magazine Shuuji had bought.

“Oh yeah. I could be a chef?”

The clone cracked a rare joke, flipping through the magazine. Probably the clone was worried about Shuuji, since he didn’t seem to be feeling well, and had thought to cheer him up. Shuuji knew it, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

“Shuuji, what’s wrong?” the clone said, surprised, and Shuuji realized for the first time that he’d been crying.

These tears, flowing down without his conscious awareness, were an admonition from the Koutarou who had passed on to the next world. Shuuji hadn’t meant to forget him, not even for a moment, and yet he’d been so busy enjoying the peaceful life he had now, he’d ended up turning his eyes away from reality.

But hearing about a new future that the real Koutarou could never have even discussed, he’d been reawakened to a truth he’d been trying not to see.

“You’re not Koutarou, but…”

“I understand. If you can’t think of me like that, I won’t force you to.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Shuuji interrupted the clone with a strong tone.

He was the same man as Koutarou, inside and out, right down to his memories of the past. Shuuji had loved Koutarou, and it wasn’t impossible that he would end up longing for this clone, too. And Koutarou was the one who left the clone here for him, surely Koutarou would forgive him. But Shuuji couldn’t forgive himself. “I know you’re not the real Koutarou, but when I’m with you I still end up thinking you are somehow. When you’re here, I start to forget that Koutarou died.”

His logic was selfish and inconsistent. It wasn’t the clone’s fault, Shuuji was the one who couldn’t control his emotions. He knew all that too, and yet it was his feeling for the deceased Koutarou that now moved Shuuji’s lips.

“I can’t let Koutarou disappear from my memory as well. I don’t want to forget him. I, at least, need to remember him.”

“That… It’s difficult for you to be with me, you mean?” the clone asked, and Shuuji nodded once. This life had been empty since Koutarou passed away, and he’d been enjoying it like the accident had been just a lie. Which was exactly why it was so hard.

“I’m sorry. I can’t live with you anymore. I’m really sorry.”

Shuuji could only apologize. He’d said he would stay by the clone’s side until he got back on his feet, and now he was tossing the clone aside halfway there. His selfishness was inexcusable, and he kept his eyes on the floor, still crying.

“You haven’t done anything to apologize for, Shuuji.”

A gentle voice, and a calm warmth fell on his shoulders. Shuuji lifted his face, and the clone flashed a tiny smile to say he understood.

“What are you smiling for? Wasn’t it Koutarou who said that if you don’t want to smile, then it’s okay not to.”

“Shuuji…”

Shuuji’d spoken in rough tones, and the clone stared at him, taken aback.

“I’m doing something horrible, don’t forgive me everything, like Koutarou would. Get angry!”

Koutarou had always been like that. No matter what Shuuji did, he never got mad, not even once. Whether it was canceling their plans so he wouldn’t miss a deadline, or skimping on sleep and then passing out when they finally did manage to get together, Koutarou never once said any words of blame. And the clone was just like Koutarou, even down to that trait.

Wanting to be blamed, asking to be told off, was all down to Shuuji’s ego. Maybe if it was Koutarou who’d ended the relationship, rather than him, he could relax a little, but he was being spoiled at every turn, even by Koutarou’s clone. Even the things that he’d once enjoyed were nothing but heavy burdens now.

“There’s no reason to be angry. You’ve indulged me far too much.”

“So making a clone was supposed to be you indulging me? You thought I’d just accept it calmly, that’s how I am?” Shuuji asked, his tone reproachful, and the words seemed to get stuck in the clone’s throat. He couldn’t make any response because Shuuji had hit a bullseye. His attitude only made Shuuji more agitated.