7 Days After..... - Zetro Translation

“Dear?”

“Tamiko-san… she’s not lying.” Grandpa’s voice was heavy, resigned. “No… why did I even entertain the thought that she could?”

“Dear, but-“

“We were just… unable to believe that Satoru could do this.” He said the words like they were being pulled from his chest, each one painful.

“HOW CAN YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE-“

“JUST LOOK AT HER!”

Grandma’s shout was cut down by Grandpa’s, the force of it silencing the room.

“Those aren’t wounds you get from falling…….We can fool ourselves all we want, but we cannot change reality. Our Rina… she suffered through all of that for an entire year. And when she finally worked up the courage to ask for help… to come to her own grandparents… she got doubted.”

He took a shuddering breath.

“No, Tamiko-san. She isn’t lying. Satoru… our Satoru… did this.”

Grandma shook her head in violent denial, tears streaming down her face.

“No… Satoru… he was such a gentle boy. He hardly ever asked us for anything. He carried all his burdens alone so we wouldn’t be troubled… are you saying he changed that much?”

Grandpa stood silent for a long moment, his eyes glistening.

“I don’t know about that,” he finally murmured, so softly it was almost inaudible. “But I do know this…” He glanced at me, and in his eyes I saw something I hadn’t seen in so long- unconditional belief. “She has been carrying this all alone, this whole time, so we wouldn’t be troubled.”

Then he turned and walked away, his steps slow and heavy.

Grandma just stood there, wide-eyed, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to form words that wouldn’t come. Finally, she too turned and moved back into the house, her figure disappearing into the shadows of the corridor.

And I…

After the sound of their footsteps faded into nothing, I collapsed.

My knees gave way, and I sank to the cold floor, my whole body shaking. The tears I had fought so hard to contain finally broke free, streaming down my face in hot, relentless rivers.

But I didn’t know what emotion those tears belonged to.

I should be feeling happy, right? They believed me. Grandpa believed me.

I was safe.

I was saved.

Then why…

“I am *sob*… sorry.” The words escaped me, broken and bewildered.

Why?

“I am sorry *sob*…”

Why is it so painful?

“I am *sob*… I am so, so, so sorry, Grandpa *sob*… Grandma…”

Why am I apologizing?

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7 days after moving to my grandparents’ house:

I woke to the pale morning light filtering through curtains I wasn’t used to.

My room.

Different walls, different ceiling, different smell.

I sat up slowly, the ghost of old aches fading into the background noise of my body.

I freshened up. Changed into my school uniform- the same one, wrinkled from being packed in a hurry that desperate night.

Things were different now. I wasn’t being beaten anymore. That alone was a change so massive I still couldn’t fully process it.

But not everything was simple.

My school life wasn’t normal. I still didn’t talk to anyone. They still called me a ghost…. some things never change, I suppose.

My mind still wandered during class, drifting to dark places if I let it. But… I was a bit more attentive now, i think atleast? I actually focused in a class or two.

That was something, I guess.

I went downstairs to the dining room.

“Good morning… Grandma, Grandpa.”

“Hmm.”
“Yes.”

The responses were short, automatic. I sat at the table.

Grandpa was reading his newspaper behind the usual cloud of steam from his tea.

Grandma moved quietly in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Not a single word was exchanged beyond my greeting.

It had been like this since I moved in. They barely talked to each other either. Grandma, who used to call me just to show me Miichan’s photos, now hardly spoke at all. Grandpa had stopped looking at me properly- his gaze always seemed to slide past me, landing somewhere else.

‘I guess this is what I get for barging into their peaceful lives.’

Grandma came and placed food on the table, then left without a word.

We both ate in silence.

I finished my portion quickly, the habit of eating fast and disappearing still clinging to me. I was about to stand and clear my dishes when-

“Eat more.”

I froze.

“Huh? I mean… what, Grandpa?”

He didn’t look up from his food, just kept chewing methodically. After swallowing, he said, “You’ve lost some weight. Eat up properly. Kids your age need proper nutrition.”

Then he went quiet again, returning to his meal as if nothing had happened.

I sat back down slowly. I took a little more rice, a bit more fish. I ate it all, every grain.

“Thank you for the food.”

I stood, gathered my dishes, and placed them by the sink. Then I grabbed my bag from the hallway table and bent down to put on my shoes.

“Wait.”

Grandma’s voice stopped me. I glanced back. She stood at the kitchen entrance, holding a small cloth-wrapped bundle. She placed it on the table without meeting my eyes.

“…Make sure to take your bento.”

“Y-yes.”

She turned and disappeared back into the kitchen without another word.

I looked at the box for a long moment.

Then I picked it up, feeling its warmth through the cloth.

I left the house with a small, tentative, “Bye.”

The morning sun greeted me, rising brilliant and golden over the horizon. Fresh air touched my face, cool but not cold, carrying the scent of early autumn.

The morning was a bit chilly, but not unbearably so. Just enough to make you appreciate the warmth of a good meal.

I looked down at the bento box in my hands.

They had stopped speaking to me much. The easy warmth, the laughter, the casual affection- that was gone. Maybe it would never come back.

But they hadn’t stopped taking care of me.

They hadn’t abandoned me.

And for now, that was enough.