How can Yamauchi Sakura be kept from dying of pancreatic disease?

Silently closing the door of the barbershop, Miyako Ishida went upstairs.

“Takuya, I need to talk to you.”

Takuya Ishida was engrossed in a game, furiously pressing the controller buttons with both hands in frustration.

“I’m playing a game, I don’t have time.”

“Takuya!”

“I said I don’t have time!”

Miyako Ishida walked over and cut off the power directly.

“I just called Mr. Takeuchi. He told me what happened today.”

“Ugh, stop meddling!”

The game screen disappeared. Takuya Ishida threw down the controller and buried his head in a nearby cushion.

“Takuya! How could you do something like that?”

“I was just playing a prank like usual. Why is everyone making such a big deal out of it? You, Takeuchi, and especially Kyosuke Hojo—all the same!”

As he spoke, Takuya suddenly broke down in tears.

“Takuya…”

Miyako Ishida’s angry expression softened into the usual gentle warmth.

She knelt on the tatami, crawled over to him, took away the cushion, and gently wiped away the tears streaming down his face with a handkerchief.

“Takuya,” she said softly, cradling her son’s head in her arms, her voice as tender as ever.

“Not everything can be treated as a prank. When it crosses a certain line, it can hurt others.

Shoko Nishimiya has a hearing impairment, so her speech is different from yours, but that’s not her choice—it’s a misfortune.

Using someone else’s misfortune as a joke is very wrong.”

In his mother’s familiar embrace, Takuya stopped crying. Yet he couldn’t help but retort.

“I didn’t mean that!”

“But you did it anyway, and it hurt Shoko Nishimiya.”

“But if it weren’t for that troublemaker Kyosuke Hojo, she wouldn’t have known what happened!”

“Takuya! Kyosuke Hojo did nothing wrong. You should learn from him.”

“What?! Learn from that guy? No way!”

---

Running his hand through his son’s hair, smoothing down the spikes, Miyako Ishida pondered how to make her son understand this lesson.

“Takuya, do you remember the fight you had in fourth grade?”

“How could I forget? Those guys said things about me, said I…”

“What did they say?”

“They said I didn’t have a father!”

“At that time, you were being targeted with your own misfortune as a prank, just like you are now.”

“I…”

“Think carefully about how you felt when you were being pranked. Then you’ll understand Shoko. So, go apologize to her properly tomorrow.”

Miyako Ishida smiled warmly.

“All right.”

…

Elsewhere, after school, Kyosuke Hojo stood by the school gate.

“Kyosuke! Over here!”

A little girl had been waiting eagerly. Upon seeing Kyosuke, she waved vigorously and even jumped up, afraid he might not notice her.

“Sakura, didn’t I tell you not to shout at the school gate?”

“Who cares? Everyone’s gone home anyway. By the way, why are you out so late today?”

Yamauchi Sakura said cheerfully, her ponytail swaying with her movements.

“You always have a reason. Let’s go; Aunt Maki might have dinner ready already.”

“Hey, speaking of dinner, I told my mom to make tonkatsu. Want to come over and eat with me?”

Yamauchi Maki, Sakura’s mother, was a traditional Japanese woman who indulged her lively daughter more than anyone else.

“No thanks. If I go to your house, my mom will be eating alone and that’s pitiful.”

Without hesitation, Kyosuke refused. This was their usual daily exchange. Although he almost always declined, Sakura continued to eagerly report her family’s dinner menu every day and invite him over.

“Doesn’t matter, Aunt Mikiko can come eat with us too.”

“No, that’d be too much trouble. Besides, that’s your last fried food quota for the month.”

“Okay then.”

Sakura wasn’t discouraged by the refusal; she remained cheerful. She didn’t really need Kyosuke to come eat at her house. Her daily “menu reports” were meant to reassure him.

For some reason, this neighbor boy had become like a “third guardian” to her from the very first day they met.

Every morning before school, he would come to get her to run, saying it was to help her get in shape.

The first time, she went along for fun, thinking it would be like a happy gym class at school—playing games or sliding at the park.

But it turned out to be strict running—timed and measured, no rest until finished!

So unfair! She was only a third grader. Why did she have to run every day?

The second time, when her mother knocked on her door to tell her Kyosuke was there to take her running again—

“I don’t want to! I won’t run anymore!”

Sakura buried her head under the covers and shouted.

“But Kyosuke brought you a gift.”

“What gift?”

Her mother’s amused and intrigued voice from outside piqued Sakura’s curiosity. Wearing pink pajamas printed with little bears and barefoot, she opened the door just a crack and whispered to her mother.

“It smells so good, like something tasty. Mom, just smelling it makes me drool.”

“Gulp.”

Having just woken up with an empty stomach, Sakura swallowed hard at her mother’s words.

“Okay, I’ll go see, but I absolutely won’t run with him!”

“All right, then hurry and change. Or are you going to meet Kyosuke in your pajamas?”

“No way!”

Sakura’s cheeks flushed as she closed the door and went to change.

Watching her daughter’s adorable behavior, Maki smiled contentedly. Such a cute daughter—she must be the dream of many.

She was also curious about the neighbor boy named Kyosuke Hojo.

First, it was amazing that such a young boy even had the concept of physical training. Second, she couldn’t understand why he insisted on bringing her daughter along. Was running alone too lonely?

The most surprising thing was that Kyosuke seemed to know Sakura would refuse to run today, so he brought food to tempt her.

Oh my, is this what a beautiful childhood friendship looks like? She suddenly imagined her daughter walking down the aisle in a pure white kimono.

Maki cupped her face in her hand, standing by her daughter’s door, lost in daydreams.