//free\\: Gaki Modotte

But Kurogane could not move. Not because of his missing leg, but because the only way to return was to go where the boy was. Beneath the water. Into the flooded field. Into the moment he had chosen survival over love.

He took the hand.

Now, the ghost of that boy—still five, still waiting, still patient—had found him. Every evening, the puddle would ripple, and a small voice would say, "Otōsan. Modotte." Father. Come back. gaki modotte

Gaki modotte. This time, he did.

Kurogane wept. Then he smiled.