Perhaps something had changed in Yuzuki after she played the Venetian Boat Song.

She became lighter, unrestrained, and free, like a white bird in the blue sky. 

In contrast to her mental state, the Blight had progressed so far that she needed a wheelchair. The loss of her ankles for her freedom. I began to wonder what the definition of freedom was in the first place.

In the end, the true freedom isn’t to be able to see the blue sky, but to have the most beautiful blue sky in one’s heart. Miaha-chan had become Yuzuki’s blue sky, her hope and will to live.

I felt like I had been left behind. 

Trying to keep tethered on this Earth, “Do you have any wishes right now?” 

“Hmmm, lemme think…”

It took her three days. Then, when I had almost forgotten about it. “Yakumo-kun, I want to wear a wedding dress.”

“Huh? Oh, the wish? I’ll look for a place where we can rent one.”

“That’s not it.”

“Hm?”

“Are you really an aspiring novelist? I’ll give you half an hour, go think!”

She got mad and scooted her wheelchair to another room.

It took me a good ten minutes to finally get what she meant. With twenty minutes remaining, I rushed to the nearest flower store. Whatever the price, I picked the most beautiful bouquet.

 　　　２

Yuzuki insisted hard on meeting with my dad, so I had to abide.

After three hours of agonizing, I finally sent this message.

[Long time no see. I’m getting married.]

Three hours later, I got a reply.

[Congratulations. I’m surprised.]

The message was so short that my head pounded. 

We exchanged more of those terse conversations.

[The girl wants to greet you]

[Oh, when?]

[As soon as possible. She’s in a wheelchair, so you need to come to our place.]

[I’ll be there tomorrow, three in the afternoon.]

That went smoother than I expected. Then I remembered that novelists were really loose in terms of work schedule.

I was so worried about the upcoming meeting that I couldn’t sleep that night.

The next day, at three p.m. straight, Dad’s Mercedes pulled up in front of our apartment. The doorbell rang. I opened the door to the sight of the Shadow.

Dad, my father, whom I hadn’t seen in five and a half years.

The fact that he seemed much smaller than I remembered made me realize that I had grown much since then. He still wore the same black clothes and was as thin as a shadow. He was not so old as to be old, and with his eye patch, he had acquired a kind of dignified look like that of Date Masamune, which somehow infuriated me.

[TN: Date Masamune, a warlord in the warring states period who made Sendai a major city in northeastern Japan until this day]

“Thank you for coming. My name is Yuzuki Igarashi.” She smiled and held out her hand.

Dad looked at Yuzuki and AGATERAM alternately. I had no idea what kind of emotion lay in his singular eye. He smiled and shook hands.

We took our place at the living room table. It was a perfect three-party meeting. My back was sweating, and I was at a loss as to what to do, when my father said,

“No, no way, I had no idea Yakumo is marrying the pianist Yuzuki Igarashi. I know that you go to the same school… This, this is a bolt out of the blue.”

Oh, so you have emotions, I retorted silently.

“Your performance at International Chopin was very impressive. I’m moved.”

“Thank you, Father-in-law,” she giggled.

Father-in-law…

He scratched his cheek. “There’s no need to keep the formalities.”

“Then, Dad.”

He nodded, a hint of embarrassment showed. 

Yuzuki and Dad then engaged in a lighthearted conversation. He spoke eloquently about various kinds of music, composers, pianists, and the folk music of different countries. I thought I knew a lot about music, but I couldn’t keep up with him at all.

“Even among Eskimos, there are two groups: those who can sing together and those who can’t—”

“Yes, I’ve heard of that. You can also divide them by their food. Mainly, there are groups that eat whales and groups that eat caribou—”

It was frightening how he talked about it as if it were common knowledge for him. Dad made Yuzuki laugh by cracking witty jokes at intervals. I don’t remember my father being such a talker.

Perhaps that has something to do with the short, bleak sentences we had exchanged throughout the years. Then, when I went as far back as my childhood, I realized that he used to blabber on and on.

Yuzuki and my father exchanged an enormous amount of information in such a short period of time and by the end of it, seemed to have completely opened up to each other. 

Then, at six in the evening, when we sent him off at the door.

“If you want to have a wedding ceremony, I can help you finance it. I have enough to pay for the whole thing.”

I interrupted him, “Wait, you have that money?”

“When you don’t spend it, it piles up.”

That was somehow shocking for me.

“Thank you very much,” said Yuzuki.

“The thanks are mine. Thank you for marrying my son.”

She immediately covered her face and mouth with her left hand. Tears shone in her eyes. Finally, I realized that she had been feeling  guilty all along.

While I hadn’t given it a thought, marrying me despite knowing full well that she was dying was selfish to her, it seemed. When Dad said such kind words to her, that must have triggered something.

At that moment, I felt I could forgive my father. Even though he lacked something in humanity, made Mom unhappy, and left me alone for so long. For some reason, I felt like I could let go.

As soon as he left, Yuzuki said, “He wasn’t as bad as you made him to be.”

I nodded, thinking “People have good and bad in them.”

She shrugged.

“I think it’s now my turn to visit you parents. What do you think?”

A month ago and she would have refused outright. As I had suspected, something had changed in her since she had played the Venetian Boat Song.

 　　　３

Hey, let’s go back.

For the tenth time, I stopped, looked her in the eyes, and asked, “You want to go back?”

Then Yuzuki would sit up in her wheelchair silently like a doll and I would start walking again. It takes less than 20 minutes to walk between our apartment and her parents’ place. Yet, we had been wandering around the neighborhood for nearly two hours. 

It was a morning in early August. The sun was shining with a clear summer glow. I had a feeling that today would be hot. The beautiful summer flowers of Newtown were blooming, and a white cloud was hanging over the cityscape.

[TN: Newtown is a real place.]

“Let’s take the long way around. Turn left there…”

I changed course. This must have been hard on her.

“By the way, do you still think Melody is still around here?”

[TN: The doggo in the early chaps]

“Right. I had seen her every day, up until I moved to Milan…”

I pushed her down the road.

“Ah! It’s there.” I pointed.

But Yuzuki shook her head. “That’s just a similar dog.”

As it turned out, she was right. The dog was a little too young. There was a tag with the name “Rhythm” on it in the kennel.

“I think Melody’s dead…” She turned around and looked up at me, a sad look on her face.

“Maybe so. But I think Rhythm here is her child, isn’t it?”

Her eyes widened.

“Right! Come here, Rhythm!”

Rhythm jumped at Yuzuki with his tail wagging hard. She was startled, then laughed and patted her. 

“Hm, she looks like her—”

It was at that moment. Rhythm suddenly peed.

Yuzuki looked at me, stunned.

“Pfft!” I blew up first.

“Ahahaha!” she followed.

“That’s Melody’s kid for sure!”

“For sure!! Hahaha!”

Tears glistening in her eyes, she hugged Rhythm tightly.