"Come on, there's a place I want to show you," Sota said with excitement in his voice as he unfolded a map covered in scribbled notes.
The map was filled with marks: 'Saeko would love this,' 'Saeko must try this,' 'To show Saeko.'
She raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"It looks as if you've been preparing for this all along," she chuckled, making Sota blush. A reaction she wasn't used to seeing from him.
"Where are we climbing?" she asked, following his lead, struggling for breath.
"My favorite spot to watch the northern lights," he replied, gently pulling her up beside him.
She gasped, her eyes wide as she took in the sight.
"Wow! Is this real?"
He pulled her into a warm embrace from behind, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. They stood together for a moment, surrounded by the beauty of the night sky, as if everything in the world were perfect.
After Saeko was discharged from the hospital, they'd agreed on staying in Norway for a little holiday before going back. Just the two of them.
The first few days gave Saeko time to rest, recover from the jet lag, and regain her strength. For Sota, it was a chance to finally open up about his past and his family.
As Saeko had expected, Sota's mother was the epitome of perfection, at least on the surface. An image meticulously crafted, a facade so convincing that everyone around her believed it.
"She made everyone think she was the perfect mother, that everything she did was for me," Sota began, his voice quiet, tinged with long-held bitterness. "Even I believed it as a child."
But then his expression darkened. "Later, I realized… that suffocating love, that sick attachment; it wasn't for me. It was for her."
He paused, drawing a slow breath as he gathered his thoughts. "She never tried to know me for who I really was. She needed me to be the son she imagined, the one who would make her happy after her failed marriage. As a kid, I wanted to satisfy her so bad. To be the son she desired me to be."
Sota smiled faintly as he continued, "Then I met Yasushi, and later the others. I started discovering things that made me genuinely happy."
Saeko listened in silence as Sota continued.
"But the more I discovered what made me happy, the worse it got with my mom. She couldn't stand it. I remember one of the argument word by word." He said, the memory vivid in his mind.
"'What's your problem with me playing music with my friends? It makes me happy!' I asked.
'That's exactly the problem. You neglect your mother because you are happy. Family should always be the first.'"
Saeko's face lit up from anger. "How can a mother say something like that?"
Sota gave a slow nod. "There was a time when I couldn't see a way out. If it weren't for Tatsuya, I might not be here today." His voice wavered slightly, but he pushed through. "After my suicide attempt, I finally spoke up. I told people the truth about our relationship; how she was hurting me. But no one could see past her caring façade.
He let out a humorless chuckle. "Every word, every action of hers, perfectly calculated. She knew exactly how to hurt someone in a way that no one else would notice." His hands curled into fists. "From the outside, she was nothing but generous."
"Who would ever believe that my mother treats me badly when she boasts about buying me a house? How many people do you think noticed the blackmail behind it?"
Sota exhaled slowly, as if releasing something heavy. "I tried to fix things. I talked to her about my grievances. But she never, not once, believed me. In her mind, my friends had poisoned me against her. She still truly believes she was… is… a loving mother." His voice turned quiet. "She never took responsibility. Never looked inward. Never thought she might be the problem. She just waited for me to 'come to my senses' and admit I was the one at fault."
" Even when I left home, I hoped that, eventually, things would fall into place. That losing me for real might make her finally take responsibility. Like in the movies, where everything gets resolved, and deep down, the mother loves her child despite her mistakes. But over time, I realized she has been lying to herself for so long that she's trapped in her own delusions. If anything could ever shatter those illusions, her whole world would crumble. I don't know if that can ever happen…"
His voice softened, but there was an unshakable resolve in it. "Sometimes for your own well-being, the best thing you can do is cut ties. Even if it was with family." He met Saeko's gaze. "I know not everyone wants to hear that."
Saeko nodded thoughtfully. "I agree. A relationship can only heal if both people are willing to work on it. I would give anything to have my mother back, but I know this much; not every mother is worth it."
A weary smile tugged at Sota's lips. "Please, don't pity me for this," he said. "People think it's tragic to live without family. But it's not. The real suffering was when I kept trying to hold on." His voice softened, but there was a lightness to it now. "Walking away… it was like taking my first real breath. I could finally afford to be happy. And my relationships now… they're far stronger, even in times of trouble."
"And what about your father? Isn't he your family too?"
Sota exhaled, staring at the table for a moment before answering. "It was only when I left home that I finally understood him. He went through the same thing I did. But all my life, I resented him. Just like my mother taught me to. I grew up hearing only one side of the story: that she was the victim and he was the terrible person who abandoned his caring wife and infant son. He ran away to Europe, and I believed it was because he didn't care about me."
He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "But looking back now… he always tried to reach out. I just never answered. Calls, letters, I ignored them all. I remember there was even a custody trial once. He fought to keep me, but the court sided with the crying mother. That was the last time he tried. After that, he gave up."
Sota clenched his fists. "I don't remember him at all. I don't remember ever talking to him, seeing him, or hearing his voice. And yet, the only person who truly understands what I went through is him. He's the one I feel closest to, the only one I could call family. And yet, he's also the one I don't know at all. Isn't that ironic?"