Had she truly given up?
Looking at Mai, who sat across from her with a faint smile at the corners of her mouth, Yoko couldn't quite believe her words. Still, it wasn't really her business. Even now, she hadn't once seen the boy Mai spoke of, and Yoko wasn't the type to meddle in others' affairs.
"Is that so? Well, maybe it's for the best if you've given up. If you hadn't... if you'd kept holding on, and your daughter eventually picked up on something suspicious, it would have strained your relationship with her, wouldn't it?"
Turning her head slightly to glance out at the bright blue sky, Yoko's expression softened with a faint hint of resignation. Thinking about her own daughter Sekai, she couldn't deny that their bond had cooled lately. She was coming home later and later every day, and the distance between them had slowly but surely grown.
Honestly, she hardly knew anything about Sekai's life anymore. If she hadn't come home early that day by pure chance, she wouldn't have even known her daughter had gotten a boyfriend.
"Whatever the case, for both of us, the only people we can truly rely on and trust are our daughters. Better not to let unnecessary things drive a wedge between us and the only family we have left."
"I've always understood that," Mai said quietly. "That's why my daughter has always been so understanding of my struggles."
"Understanding of your struggles, huh?"
Yoko studied Mai's face, reflecting on how similar their lives were. Even though their incomes were enough to maintain their households, life was still relentlessly tough—juggling work every day with almost no time to breathe.
"If only Sekai could be a little more understanding, maybe I'd have an easier time too," Yoko muttered.
"Doesn't she often come to the restaurant to help you out?"
"She's usually busy with school. It's only during vacations that she drops by once or twice."
Yoko lifted her coffee cup, taking a small sip, her gaze lingering on Mai. They were close in age, shared similar hardships, and were even related by blood. Watching how they had both grown—from carefree girls to women working tirelessly for the sake of their families and daughters—Yoko couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
"Have you ever thought about your own future?"
The sudden question made Mai, who was lightly massaging her slender neck with one hand, shift her gaze to Yoko.
"In what way?"
"I mean, after all this... Your daughter already has a boyfriend. After Mai graduates, gets married, and starts her own family... have you ever thought about building a new life for yourself too?"
The idea caught Mai by surprise. She blinked, then gave a small, wry smile. Long ago, she might have had fleeting thoughts about such things. But that was before she met Haruto.
After meeting him, and especially now that her daughter seemed to tacitly approve of their relationship, those old notions of rebuilding her own life with someone else had completely faded away.
"That child... she's incredibly thoughtful," Mai said.
"Hm?"
"The boy who's dating my daughter... when he first started seeing her, and came over for dinner, he actually talked about the future. He said he wanted to buy a bigger house—enough for the three of us. Him, my daughter, and me. All living together under one roof."
The sunlight pouring through the window lit up Mai's face, making her smile seem so pure and radiant that it left Yoko feeling an ache deep in her chest.
She was jealous.
Forcing an awkward smile, Yoko lowered her head, staring into the dark reflection in her coffee cup.
"The three of you living together... I doubt I'll ever have that with Sekai. Honestly, she barely talks to me anymore. And in the future, we probably won't have much in common either. If we kept living together, it would just end up being nothing but tension and awkwardness."
"You don't have to be so pessimistic," Mai said gently, her voice filled with warmth. "You might still meet someone good."
Mai, who had already found her peace, offered those words with an easy smile. Yoko simply chuckled dryly and didn't pursue the topic any further.
Whenever they talked about their own futures, the atmosphere inevitably turned heavy. For women like them, without finding someone reliable to lean on, loneliness seemed to be the only path ahead.
Yoko's heart grew even heavier. Maybe it really was time for her to seriously consider finding someone—someone who could be there for her in the future.
"When are you free?" Mai suddenly asked.
"Hm? Well, I'm always busy, but technically, I can be free anytime."
Yoko wasn't sure why Mai was asking out of the blue, but she still gave an honest answer.While she was constantly tied up with the restaurant's affairs, in truth, many things could be delegated to others if she wanted. So if she needed to, she could carve out some time.
"Next week, why don't we go out together? Just the two of us," Mai suggested.
"The two of us?"
Yoko looked at Mai in surprise but quickly nodded. Taking a day off wouldn't hurt. She could always close the restaurant for a day. No big deal.
"Sounds good. Let's do that next weekend. It's been ages since I just... relaxed—"
"Mom."
Just as she was about to ask where Mai wanted to go, a familiar voice rang out across the restaurant. Yoko looked up to see a girl approaching their table.
"Sekai? Oh, you're here."
"Yeah. There wasn't much going on at home, so I thought I'd drop by. Oh... Mai-san?"
Sekai blinked in surprise. She had been told not to call Mai "Auntie" because it sounded too old, so she'd gotten into the habit of calling her more casually as "Mai-san."
"It's been a while, Sekai. I haven't seen you around lately," Mai said with a smile. "By the way, wasn't Setsuna with you?"
"Hm? Setsuna's out on a date with Haruto."
"I see."
Mai nodded casually, as if she knew nothing about it. But in her eyes, a glint of quiet calculation flickered as she looked at the girl standing by the table.