"Pushing myself?"
I laughed, trying to let it slide.
"No, not really. I'm fine."
"See, that."
Rui pointed the tip of her spoon at me.
"'Fine.' Whenever things are hard, you always say 'fine,' Mr. Manager. I've been watching you this whole time, so I know."
That stopped me cold.
"That night, when I got up to use the bathroom, I saw you. You were alone in the kitchen, clenching and unclenching your right hand. That's your habit when you're worn out, isn't it?"
Rei looked over at me with a start. So did Mahiru, and Yume.
"That scary face of yours... it probably takes a huge amount out of you, right? You always act like it's nothing, and you put it on for us. That day, too. For Rei."
Rui looked straight at me.
"But afterward, you didn't lean on anyone. You were just alone in the kitchen, clenching and unclenching your hand."
I couldn't say a thing.
This was new to me.
I'm used to listening to other people's worries. I like to think I'm good at noticing when someone's tired, too. But being seen that way myself—
"You're always just giving and giving, Mr. Manager," Yume said quietly.
"You make the food, you listen to us, you protect us. But who makes food for you? Who listens to you?"
"..."
"Who do you lean on, Mr. Manager?"
I didn't have an answer to that. Because I'd never once thought about it.
I was the one who gave. I'd decided that ever since Tomi took me in. I wouldn't go back to being the one who received. I couldn't. That was what I'd believed.
"...I..."
I opened my mouth, but nothing more came out.
"You know," Rei said quietly.
"I told my mom, 'I decide my own life.' —I learned that from you, Mr. Manager. Because that day, you told her this was my home."
"..."
"So this time, we're going to say it."
Rei set down her spoon and looked straight at me.
"This is your home too, Mr. Manager. As much as it's ours. So—lean on us once in a while. Being protected all the time makes us uneasy."
All four of them nodded.
I didn't know what to say. I just looked at the steaming pot.
Somewhere deep in my chest, in that old place, something gave a small clink. It was the same place I'd put a lid on that first night.
"...Thank you."
That was all I finally managed.
"I think I've... forgotten how to lean on people. It might take me a little while to remember."
"That's okay."
Rui smiled.
"Take your time. We're good at waiting. —Right?"
The other three nodded. Mm-hm.
At my feet, Komugi pushed his big head firmly onto my knee.
We polished off the hotpot, right down to the finish.
To end it, I added rice and beaten egg to the leftover broth and made it into rice porridge. The rice soaks up every last bit of the flavor that's melted out of everything else. The last, most luxurious bowl of the whole feast.
Everyone slurped it down, huffing at the heat.
"Ahh, I'm alive again..."
Yume rubbed her stomach and sank limply into the sofa.
The living room was full of laughter. The house that had gone cold was properly warm again, and every face said the same thing: this was the place to come home to.
I watched the scene from the kitchen.
Who protects the protector.
I'd never thought about it. But maybe that was—
I got that far and shook my head. Not now. For now, I just wanted to watch this warmth.
The night grew late. Everyone went back to their rooms, and the house went quiet.
I was alone in the kitchen, doing the dishes. The only sound was the running tap.
I slowly opened the fingers of my clenched right hand, then closed them again. Tonight, they weren't cold anymore.
That was when it happened.
The landline in the manager's room rang.
Brrring. Brrring.
It was past eleven at night. The landline almost never rang at an hour like this.
I wiped my hands and picked up the receiver.
"...Hello, this is Nightlight."
There was silence on the other end for a while. Then came a voice—a very old one.
...Is this Mr. Kashiwagi? Mr. Amane... Kashiwagi?
I knew that way of being addressed.
Not "Mr. Manager," not "Amane." Anyone who called me by my full name like that—there should hardly be any left in this world anymore.
Without realizing it, I tightened my grip on the receiver.
I've been looking for you for a long time. —About that business, back then.
The pendulum of the wall clock went tock, tock. The sound seemed oddly far away.
Outside the window, the winter rain had started to fall again.