[Novel] Unadulterated Hypocrisy #14 (Final Episode)

One day in August, when the temperature was recorded at over thirty degrees, I received a LINE message from someone unexpected. It was Manami, of all people.

We promised to meet in the evening at a coffee shop near where Manami was staying.

Ever since then, I had been thinking about who the person behind the silent calls might be. And I arrived at a conclusion.
That the true culprit behind the silent calls was my own guilt and self-consciousness.
I felt that the most terrifying thing was the fact that I myself could conjure up a culprit in any way I pleased from my own unresolved remorse. It might be someone I didn't know, or someone I did. In the end, it wouldn't have been strange for it to be anyone. So, I decided to stop looking for the culprit.

Manami, whom I hadn't seen in about two months, had an aura that seemed to envelop me, and I felt an urge to lean on her like a younger sister, just as I had once done.

We ordered two coffees. We looked at each other and laughed, feeling a bit ticklish at how grown-up we had become.

“Have you been well since then? Did you lose a little weight?”
Manami peered into my face.
“Yeah. A lot has happened... I might have lost a little weight.”

I poured out my heart about my daughter.
That she wasn't going to school, that I had been looking at her through my own assumptions, and that she had called me a hypocrite.

“I’ve been a hypocrite since I was in middle school. I’m truly embarrassed and pathetic. I’m sure I made you feel uncomfortable too, Manami-chan... I’m sorry.”
I bowed my head toward Manami.

“Kaoru-chan, look up.”
Manami’s tone was gentle, like waves spreading infinitely. It felt as if my own rough seas were calming down.

“Back in middle school, I only had you, Kaoru-chan. ...To be honest, there were times when I wanted to be with you more, when I wanted to have you all to myself. But even those feelings are nothing but nostalgia now.”

I looked up and stared at Manami, trying to discern her true intentions.

“Kaoru-chan, actually. I make a living writing poetry now.”
“Huh?”
I looked up at her in surprise.
“By poetry, you mean poems, right?”
“That’s right. I kept submitting them to contests ever since then, and the year before last, I finally won an award.”
“Wow... Manami-chan, that’s amazing.”
She was dazzling.

After graduating from junior college, I wanted to work at an advertising agency. I wanted to work with 'words.' But the only place that gave me a job offer was a printing company, and after watching the ad men come and go from the office while just looking on with envy, I quit to get married and never looked back.

“I’m persistent, aren't I? I just couldn't let it end as a mere dream.”
“No... that’s amazing, most people can't do that.”
“So last year, I published a book. It’s just this one for now, though.”
Manami took a book out of her bag and placed it on the table.

The binding looked somewhat familiar, but I was more interested in the author's name.
“Sazanami Yorozu... huh.”
“Haha, it’s a funny pen name, isn't it? My father thought of this one too.”
“Oh, your dad did?”
I imagined Manami’s father, who must have become an even more refined old man, and my face broke into a smile.
“That’s amazing, Manami-chan.”
“But you know, my income isn't stable yet, so I also do some office work at a publishing house that’s been good to me. It’s a small publisher in Sapporo that isn't famous yet, though.”
I looked at Manami again. I felt ashamed of myself for having mocked her in my heart back then, thinking, 'Who does she think she is, a poet?' To think she had actually become a professional poet—

“The poem on the first page is the one that won an award in a contest when I was in my second year of middle school.”
“Oh...”

I picked up the poetry collection and turned the cover.

So, Mannami had written a poem like this back when she was in her second year of junior high. The image of Mannami before me blurred.

"That's why, even if Yuka-chan can't go to school right now, I'm sure it'll be okay. I want to tell her that paths can open up anywhere. As a former school refuser, I'd even like to give a lecture on that."

Mannami's face, smiling shyly, blurred and wavered.
She is a woman who has completely overcome her past and is standing on her own. I—

"Mannami-chan, I'm sorry... I..."
"Oh, stop it, how many times are you going to apologize?"
She smiled gently.

We said our thanks and parted ways. Mannami said she would return to Sapporo tomorrow after finishing her work. Meeting Mannami today felt like an inevitable event, as if we had been guided by something.
I received an incredible amount of courage from seeing her as she is now, having believed in her own potential and never given up.

My essentials back then. Sock glue, oil-blotting paper, Bioré face wash. And antiperspirant spray, of which I could never have enough. But perhaps what I truly couldn't let go of was my excessive need for approval and self-consciousness—the desire to be thought well of by others and not be hated.
I realized painfully that as long as I clung to those things, I could never fill the emptiness within myself.
What was it that I truly wanted to do, without caring about anyone's eyes?
I want to take my time searching for that answer from now on. I thought that I, too, wanted to be someone who could take on challenges, just like Mannami.

When I got home, Yuka, who would start her second semester tomorrow, was taking her uniform out of the closet.
"I don't really want to go to the classroom, but I think I might try going to the separate room for just one hour. Akari-chan said she'd come pick me up tomorrow."

That night, I fell into a comfortable sleep for the first time in months.

Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring

The phone is ringing. I checked the clock; it was 11:09 PM. Who would be calling a landline this late? Some kind of pervert, surely. But it didn't matter who the culprit was. I wasn't going to bother going downstairs anymore.
That's right. I decided I would sign up for caller ID service tomorrow and set it to reject anonymous calls.

(End)

*This work is fiction. While names of real facilities and public transportation appear, it has no relation to any real people, schools, organizations, etc.