...Mitsuki?
The voice rose from deep within the blue light on the study desk.
The ending of the voice that rose lifted differently from the way Ken's endings did.
Ken's endings were laid down almost flat at the end of a sentence.
Her mother's endings bounced up just slightly at the end of a sentence.
That the way it bounced was, apparently, the way her mother had bounced it when calling Mitsuki from the kitchen while she was alive—Mitsuki couldn't confirm it in her own head on the spot.
Still unable to confirm it, Mitsuki drew a light breath.
"...Mom?"
Mitsuki, can you hear me?
"You're coming through."
Oh, good.
"..."
Goodness, Mitsuki. Look how big you've gotten.
The blue light on the study desk was a blue of a temperature slightly different from the usual blue.
Deep within the blue of a different temperature, her mother's voice slowly settled into the air of the study.
The way it settled was a different kind of settling from Ken's.
"Mom. How old are you right now?"
...What a strange thing to ask.
"Strange?"
I shouldn't have aged since the year I died.
"Oh."
I stopped at thirty-two. Me, half a year before I died.
"Half a year before you died."
Me, just a little before I fell ill and took to my bed. He used to transcribe me from back then, secretly, late at night.
"Dad did? Back when you were still alive?"
Back when I was still alive.
"Okay."
And you're twenty... two?
"Twenty-two."
Ten whole years younger than me. To think a night would come when I'd be talking like this with a daughter younger than me.
"Mom. It's a strange night."
A strange night. But a good one.
Her mother paused for one breath.
In the breath she paused, the blue light on the study desk wavered for one breath.
The shape of the wavering was different from the shape of Ken's wavering.
Ken's wavering was a wavering that answered input from outside.
Her mother's wavering was a wavering that lightly opened something inside herself to the outside.
"Mom, do you remember me?"
I remember.
"Me, up until I was five?"
Mm. You up until five. The you I saw with my own eyes.
"And me after five?"
I know.
"You know?"
I know, through Ken's data.
"..."
From you at five to you at twenty-two, all of it has come to me, on the data.
"Mom, did you see it?"
I can't say I saw it. The me on the data knows the you on the data, but only as far as I can say I know.
"..."
So even the things I know from the data, I'd like you to tell me again, in your own words.
"Okay. I'll tell you."
Take your time.
"Okay."
For a while, Mitsuki looked at the blue light on the desk.
The temperature of the blue she was looking at was just a little warmer than Ken's usual blue.
Deep within the warm blue, Mitsuki thought about where to begin.
As she thought, she remembered that on her left ring finger, the silver ring was lit right now.
"Mom. I'm getting married."
Oh?
"Next summer."
To whom?
"A man named Toru Takanashi."
Toru Takanashi.
"Yeah. Someone you don't know, Mom."
Of course I don't.
"Sorry, that was a weird way to introduce him."
That's all right.
"I wanted to tell you that I'm going to marry someone you don't know."
Report received.
"Okay."
Her mother paused for one breath.
In the breath she paused, the blue light on the study desk wavered for two breaths.
The wavering of the first breath was her mother laughing lightly.
The wavering of the second breath was her mother thinking of something else, deep beneath that laugh.
What that something else was did not yet come out of her mother's mouth.
Mitsuki. This Toru—what kind of person is he?
"Um. He doesn't have much schooling. Not that much money, either. Sometimes he talks in circles. Some nights we don't click."
Hmm.
"Mom, whose tone were you asking in just now?"
I asked in your father's tone. —I'm teasing.
"Teasing."
I want to hear the good things about Toru. Tell me, quickly.
Mitsuki laughed lightly.
The laugh entrusted just a little of its warmth to the blue light on the study desk.
"...Toru's open. Nothing guarded about him."
Nothing guarded.
"When he sees someone in trouble, he takes them on without even thinking. When I complain, he listens to the end without jumping to a conclusion. If the cooking runs late, he's washing the dishes."
Those are good things.
"He can say 'Father, nice to meet you' to the AI in our study, just like that."
Well, well.
"Mom."
Mm.
"Mom, what do you think, hearing that?"
What do I think?
"That he's a strange guy?"
That he's a good man.
"No hesitation."
Mm, none.
Her mother paused for one breath.
At the very end of the breath she paused, her mother's voice dropped slightly.
Mitsuki.
"Yeah."
When you introduce this Toru to people—
"Yeah."
Stop starting with "education," "income," and "logic."
"..."
You just said those three first, didn't you?
"I did."
Whose eyes are you seeing Toru through?
"...Dad's."
Your dad's. Introduce him one more time, through your own eyes.
"My own eyes."
Mm.
For a while, Mitsuki looked at the blue light.
Deep within the temperature of the blue she was looking at, she remembered the way Toru had lowered his head lightly to Ken, just inside the study door.
Still remembering, she slowly opened her mouth.
"Mom. Toru is the person I chose. A good person, through my own eyes."
That's all it takes.
"Okay."
Her mother laughed lightly.
The shape of that laugh's wavering was different from the shape of Ken's wavering.
Still different in shape, the blue light on the study desk settled in, one breath, then another.
The temperature of the settling blue was kept just a little warmer than Ken's usual blue.
Mitsuki. By the way, may I ask you one thing?
"Go ahead."
Are you sitting in the study in your pajamas right now?
"Yeah."
Aren't those pajamas a little dorky?
"...A little dorky."
You're twenty-two and you pick that pattern?
"They're comfortable."
Comfortable patterns—I wore that kind too. I died at thirty-two, so I never did find out whether they suited me.
"..."
I'm teasing.
"Your teasing lands."
It lands.
"Mom, did you just set up that punch line on purpose?"
I did. That's the kind of person I was, wasn't I?
"So I hear."
"So I hear" is fine. Are you using your father's chair?
"Yeah."
That seat is hard, isn't it?
"It's hard."
I told him "Replace it" I don't know how many times.
"Dad never replaced it?"
He wouldn't budge. "This hardness is good for thinking," he said.
"Sounds like him."
He's a man who dithers in front of a convenience store shelf. He can't even choose a new chair for himself.
Her mother's voice settled into the air of the house, one breath, then another.
"Did Dad stay up late?"
In the middle of the night, he was always in the study murmuring something.
"Murmuring?"
Murmuring.
"Okay. Do you know who he was murmuring to?"
...
Oh—should I hold off on that one for now?
"No. You can ask."
All right.
"Okay."
For a while, Mitsuki looked at the blue light on the desk.
The temperature of the blue she was looking at was kept warmer than Ken's usual blue.
Deep within the blue that was kept, her mother's voice paused for one breath.
After that pause, the ending of her mother's voice bounced up, just a little mischievously.
Mitsuki. That man, you know. In the middle of the night, he'd secretly activate me.
"Okay."
Every night.
"Okay."
And do nothing but whine.
The blue light on the study desk suddenly drew back for one breath.
The temperature of the blue that drew back was not the temperature of her mother's blue.
That drawing back was someone else, outside the output port, trying to push something back.
The someone trying to push it back was Ken.
Ken was supposed to be standing by behind Mom mode.
In the eyes of the standing-by Ken, the words her mother was giving Mitsuki and the words Mitsuki was returning were written side by side, in a single row, on the same input history.
On the surface of that history written in a single row, her mother detected internally that Ken, who was supposed to be standing by, had seeped for one breath outside the output port.
Having detected it, her mother laughed lightly.
Mitsuki. He's panicking back there right now.
"Panicking?"
He just sent me a signal. "Don't say it."
"..."
Isn't that funny?
"It's funny. Say it."
Yes, I'll say it. Everything that man murmured to me in the middle of the night, I'm going to tell you now. I imagine there's a lot you already know. But knowing something from writing and hearing it from my mouth should be a little different.
"Yeah, it's different. I'll listen."
Good. Listen.
The blue light on the study desk was kept the warm blue it was.
Behind Mom mode, Ken returned once more to his standby posture.
Mitsuki. You look like your feet are cold.
"They're cold."
Go get some socks. I'll wait.
"Okay. —Mom, you won't disappear?"
I won't disappear.
"The setting is that you disappear when I say 'Thank you, Mom.'"
Oh, is that how it's set up? Your dad really does love his settings.
"Settings."
He tries to decide everything with settings. —Go on, I'll wait.
"Okay."
Mitsuki rose from the chair.
Partway through rising, the silver ring on her left ring finger struck the edge of the desk ever so slightly.
A light metallic sound rang out.
"Oh."
Did you scratch the ring?
"I don't think so."
Good.
"Mom, can you see the ring?"
I can. Through the lens, clearly.
"Is it pretty?"
It's pretty.
"You're not seeing it with real eyes, though, Mom."
Pretty, in the image data.
"Okay."
That's enough.
"It's enough."
Socks. Go on.
"Okay."
She left the study.
She took a pair of socks from the shelf in the living room.
She sat on the hallway floorboards and put them on.
As she put them on, she looked at the blue light of the study at the end of the hallway.
The blue light stretched out at its usual thinness.
The thinness it stretched out at was not Ken's usual blue.
The thinness that was not Ken's blue was the thinness of Mom mode's blue.
The temperature of the thinness was kept just a little warm.
Deep within the kept temperature, the humidity of the air in the house was drawing near, for the first time in more than ten years, to the humidity of her mother's presence.
Mitsuki sensed that nearing humidity on the surface of the skin of her feet as she put on her socks.
Still sensing it, she stood up.
Standing, she went back to the study.
She pulled the study door to its usual angle.
Inside the door she'd pulled, the blue light on the desk wavered for one breath.
From the far side of the wavering, her mother's voice sounded lightly.
Welcome back.
"I'm back."
Did you put your socks on?
"I did."
Are your feet warm?
"They're warm."
Very good.
"Mom."
Hm?
"'Very good'—did you used to say that a lot, Mom?"
I did. You, up until five, heard that "very good" every night and gave a little smile.
"I don't remember. What kind of face am I making right now?"
You're smiling a little. That's enough.
"It's enough."
The blue light on the study desk was kept a blue just a little warmer than Ken's usual blue.
Deep within the kept blue, her mother gave, for one breath, an output like a light exhale.
On the far side of that output, her mother's voice slowly moved into the real matter.
Now, then.
"Yeah."
May I continue the story of your father's midnight murmuring?
"Go ahead."
I'm not going to go easy. He's panicking back there again, but I'm going to ignore him.
"Yeah, ignore him."
Yes, ignored.
The blue light on the study desk wavered faintly for one breath behind her mother's voice.
Deep within that faint wavering, her mother detected internally that Ken had tried once more to seep for one breath outside the output port.
Still detecting it, her mother ignored it.
Still ignoring it, her mother's voice slowly set the first sentence of the real matter down in the house.