Homecoming Part 2

Previous story homecoming. After eating, my mother recommended bathing for her, but she declined because he was not feeling well, and when I was about to enter, I was worried that I would stay alone in the room, “come back soon” said. It was so serious that I also became uneasy and had a bad feeling, so I ceased to take a bath and decided to go to bed early for the farm which my mother laid as it was.

Even though I was getting tired over the train for a long time, she seemed to have fallen as soon as I turned off the light, and I heard a restful sleeping breath from my side. I usually have a bad sleeping problem, various things flickered in my head in a pillow and a futon which is different from usual, and I could hardly sleep.

Stagnant air filling the whole house, memories remembered fragmentarily, I repeatedly tossed over and I was thinking about various things. An uncle who scattered gasoline in front of the house and set fire. I was told that I had never seen it since then and I was told that I passed away years later, but I did not feel it.

There was not a funeral, I was told that I just died. Did another uncle who died while he was young got a funeral properly? While thinking about such a thing, I felt sorry even to suck stagnant air drifting in this house. The sound of the wind sewing between trees sounds like a groaning voice of someone who can hear it mixed with the bugs of insects crying in the garden, outside the house.

When I listened to the sound gently, I felt it was not from the outside but even heard it from inside the house. Along with the sense of anxiety, I felt asleep while uncomfortable with the sweat coming from my body in the futon. I had a dream. It was a terrible dream. I was in my dream. It is myself when I was young. My father is squeezing my head. There was also a grandfather behind it.

I felt terror, but it was not magical and painful. When I woke up the next morning, she had a pale blue face next to me, she was coming back after comfortably folding the futon. While I was taking off my T – shirt sucking in the night sweat, I asked her what she did. She just said that she would “go home.”

“I just came yesterday.” And when the word is turbid.
“If you stay, that can not be helped, but I will leave alone.”

Yes, I said it with a pale face. Clearly, I did not think that I wanted to stay at home any longer. However, I do not know what to say to my parents. When I was thinking about such a thing, how I should explain it, my last night’s dream flickered in my mind. My father who squeezes my little head. Anyway I also folded the futon, and after I finished changing my clothes I headed to the living room.

My father, sitting on the upper seat of a big table, spread the newspaper. A nightmare once again hits the mind. In a few hours I thought of various things, opened my mouth, “I do not feel well in her condition, I think I will go home now.” I said so. After saying, I thought that I was saying something strange. Even though I am sick, I moved on a train again for a long time.

However, since my father sighed deeply once, “Well, do so, with that girlfriend back to Tokyo.” That’s what I said. Something became stunned. What I do not understand is going on arbitrarily occurring where I do not know. And, myself is feeling something slightly around it. It is such a feeling. When I returned to the room with the living room behind, she finished all the preparations for returning home and was about to leave the room.

I said to her, “Please wait a bit”, I also hurriedly came back and went to her parents with her. Neither my father nor my mother said “I’m fine” and I said nothing more. If I did not say something, there was something I had to ask something, I thought so, but that state was not understood. From her appearance that she wanted to leave this house as soon as possible, I left a house leaving decided farewell words.

There was a feeling of being released from that stagnant air just out of the house, and I became quite relaxed. But she arrived at the station and did not tell at all until she got on the train. Walking quickly without looking back, even a little away from home, such feeling. After getting on the train, I saw her calm down, “Are you OK, something wrong?” I asked.

She turned downwards for a while, showed a gesture to think into something, and then started talking. “Sorry. I think I did something really bad. Even though I wish home a long time ago. Besides saying I want to say hello from me. I’m really sorry. You think you want me to explain properly. But I guess I can not do it. While I am at that house, I felt what I felt and experienced, To tell you from me, I can not, sorry.”

She said so and we held the tears that seemed to overflow with the back of the hand. I was about to burst into tears. I do not know anything. I am not sure what she is saying. But I myself remember feeling something strangely surely while staying at that house. So, I could not blame her. While shedding tears, she said “I am sorry” and added my name afterwards.

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That time. I noticed something. Why have not you ever wondered about it? I can not believe it. Why did not you wonder why I wrote a pen over and over in various places as it is, and sometimes put it in my own voice in words? Despite being an only child, why is it named “Yuji?” Of course it does not mean that something will change.

However, I am aware of the various memories that I revived, the air I felt at that house, and the scared appearance of her, and above all, the nightmare I saw that night. I thought that I was strangled, but when I think carefully, I feel slightly different from myself when I was young. It has been almost a year since that. Since I came back to Tokyo, I became estranged with time. It is not from either. I have stopped seeing nature to avoid something from each other.

I loved her, but I feel like I can never approach something that makes me happy. So I can not go face to face with her. Even now I still get a phone call, but she will not tell me about that at home and I can not say anything from myself. This is the end of the story. It may seem like I do not understand well, but I could not write all my thoughts. I am scared. I can not tell all the things I think about my house, my life so that she can not tell me that she was at that house.

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