He didn't understand that they were looks of sympathy or pity.

  All those eyes frightened him.

  He felt like he had done something wrong, and that's why everyone was looking at him.

  His small hands clutched tightly at his grandmother's black dress, hiding behind her legs, trying to find the slightest bit of comfort in her presence.

  Meanwhile, his grandmother stood silently, her gaze fixed on her only son.

  She watched the light that once brightened her days slowly disappear from his face.

  What remained was a hollow shell, his expression pale, and sorrow pooling in his eyes like a dark cloud hanging over his head… as if it were raining down on him alone.

  The grandmother's gaze slowly drifted downward towards her little grandson, noticing how tightly he clung to her and hid behind her.

  She gently ran her hand over his head with warmth and tenderness, then crouched beside him, lowering herself to his level.

  In a soft, delicate voice, she tried to uncover what was making him so anxious and afraid.

  "What's wrong, my dear? Is something scaring you?"

  Haruki looked up at his grandmother, his eyes full of innocence and confusion, the kind of uncertainty only a child who had lived through something like this could carry.

  "Why is everyone looking at me, Grandma?"

  His voice trembled, unsure and shaken.

  The grandmother sighed, her hand never left his head, as if trying to reassure him that she was there, no matter what.

  Then, in a gentle, quiet voice, almost breaking, she replied.

  "They're sad for you… because your mommy has gone to the sky."

  Haruki's eyes began to tremble in their sockets, tears welling up and forming a glassy layer over them.

  He was struggling to process what his grandmother had just told him.

  "What…what does that mean? Does it mean I won't see her again?... Ever?"

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  His voice wavered, barely holding itself together, and he was clearly on the verge of breaking into tears.

  His grandmother couldn't help but notice the deep trembling in his words, and the expressions on his face tore at her heart.

  No child deserves to be in his place.

  But there was nothing she could do, everything was already over, and there was no turning back in time.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat, then silently nodded her head… answering his painful question.

  And the moment Haruki understood the answer, he burst into tears, loud, unrestrained sobs that echoed as the only sound during the funeral ceremony.

  He threw himself into his grandmother's arms, burying his face in her chest.

  She could feel his hot tears soaking through her dress, and her heart ached for him, splitting open under the weight of his sorrow.

  She held him tightly, gently running her hand over his head, letting him release the pain inside him, letting him cry it all out…

  ***

  For the past five days, Nagisa hadn't left Nyoko's grave.

  He would sit beside it for hours, speaking to her as if she could still hear him, never expecting an answer in return.

  And like every day before, today he sat once again by her side, leaning against the headstone with his eyes closed, imagining her sitting there next to him.

  He began to speak in a low voice, heavy with sorrow.

  "I feel like I'm drowning… and no one is coming to save me. Where are you now? I need you more than anything"

  He slowly opened his eyes, lifting his gaze towards the sky, partly clouded, but not yet raining.

  As if it, too, was bracing for a storm.

  Nagisa pushed himself up to his feet, his eyes falling on the headstone as though it was her face.

  He bid her farewell in silence, then began to walk away…Not knowing where he was going, or where he should be.

  All he knew was that his legs… were moving on their own.

  He walked with slouched shoulders, his eyes empty, void of meaning or emotion.

  He stopped in front of the old bar he used to visit with his friends in the past,

  every weekend, or whenever there was something worth celebrating.

  Drawn in by the memories, he stepped inside and took his usual seat near the corner, but this time, he was alone. No one beside him.

  He looked up, expecting to see the old man who used to greet him warmly every time.

  But instead, he was met with the sight of a beautiful blonde woman standing behind the counter.

  She smiled at him gently and spoke in a soft, pleasant voice.

  "How can I help you, sir?"

  A faint shiver ran through Nagisa's body, something about her voice felt oddly familiar, though he couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before.

  He shook his head, pushing away the sensation.

  His grief was stronger than anything else, stronger than memory, stronger than doubt.

  He lowered his gaze and spoke in a tired, quiet voice.

  "Some sake… please."

  "Right away."

  She answered politely, prepared the drink, and placed it before him.

  Nagisa took the small glass and downed it in one gulp.

  His face twisted at the bitter taste of the alcohol, but he couldn't help but notice…it tasted even more bitter than usual.

  Still…He didn't care.