The woman standing beside Shiho-chan returned my stiff expression with a gentle smile.
"Nice to meet you. Are you the Megumi-chan I've heard so much about?"
Yamamoto's mother was the one who spoke. It seemed Shiho-chan had already briefed her; she clearly knew who I was.
"Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you."
I bowed my head politely.
...Well then.
Yamamoto had mentioned it once before—that his mother was a permissive person. I wondered how she would actually treat me.
"Oh, you're back."
"Yeah. I'm home."
Yamamoto appeared from behind me. They exchanged a few brief words, marking a low-key reunion. After a moment of silence, Yamamoto's mother made a suggestion.
"Sorry. Could you two step out for a minute?"
"Wait, why?" Shiho-chan asked.
"Shiho. Let's go."
"But why?"
"Just come on. It's better to just listen when she gets like this."
Yamamoto sounded slightly exasperated as he spoke to his sister. Seeing the two of them prepare to leave was terrifying. Yamamoto remained nonchalant, while Shiho-chan looked worried. With those contrasting expressions, they both exited the living room.
"Please. Have a seat."
"Ah, yes."
At the mother’s prompting, I sat down in a chair at the dining table. She sat directly across from me.
I wondered why she had insisted on being alone with me. Perhaps she was harboring a misunderstanding. Maybe she thought I was some kind of leech—an evil woman exploiting her son. Honestly, considering I was living in an apartment he paid for, I felt like a wicked woman already.
What should I do? Should I start with a formal apology to set the right tone? Or should I explain, as clearly and politely as possible, how pure our relationship actually was? We were both still minors, after all. We were at an age where it was only natural for a parent to worry.
"Megumi-chan. May I ask you a question?"
"...Yes."
I prepared myself to bow. I wasn't afraid. My pride meant nothing compared to the time I spent with Yamamoto; he was far more important to me now. If it meant I could stay with him, I didn't care about bowing my head or being verbally abused. I wouldn't hesitate for a second.
Yamamoto's mother spoke slowly. "Is that boy living a healthy life?"
"...Eh?"
It was a far simpler question than I had expected. It was... normal.
"Yes," I replied. "He’s... he’s probably exactly the same as when he lived here. I don't know what his life was like back then, but he cleans every chance he gets. If he spots a spare moment, he's cleaning. It’s always like that."
"...I see."
She smiled gently. Her expression didn't quite match the image Yamamoto had painted of her.
"Um, why are you asking me?"
"Because it seemed like I'd get a more accurate answer from you."
"...I wonder about that."
I had only been living with him for a few months. I had no confidence that I could truly convey the reality of his current life.
"It’s alright. You’re correct."
"...Why do you think so?"
"That boy has an unnecessarily keen eye for people."
"Unnecessarily?"
"Yes. Unnecessarily. There is no way a girl living with a boy like that could be a bad person."
"...I see."
I looked down. I couldn't let his mother see my face right now. I felt like I was going to cry.
Because what she said meant... that Yamamoto had accepted me. I had been ready to throw everything away just to stay by his side. If someone I loved that much truly recognized me in the way his mother suggested... if it was really true...
I was happy. I was so happy I thought I might burst into tears.