The divorce form he pulled from his pocket was still blank. But to Kenichi now…

#nana56b


Synopsis

I never imagined the blankness of a divorce form
could be so cruel.　The small IT startup into which
Kenichi Sato had poured his heart and soul collapsed
in an instant due to circumstances beyond his
control—the bankruptcy of a business partner. All
that remained were massive debts, a wife who had had
enough of him, and the tear-stained face of his
daughter, who told him, “I hate you, Dad.”

　Having lost everything, Kenichi headed for his
hometown in Hokkaido. He arrived at a station in
the depths of winter, with hardly a soul in sight.

“If I end it here, I won’t be a burden to
anyone…”

　He wanted to simply melt away into the white
darkness. As he stepped outside the station, a biting
north wind lashed mercilessly against Kenichi’s
cheeks. The numbness spreading through his limbs felt
strangely comforting.

　Just then, the figure of a woman in a wheelchair
caught his eye.
　She was desperately trying to climb over the frozen
step. Her wheels were spinning uselessly, and her
slender arms were trembling slightly. There was no
one else around; only a streetlight cast a cold glow
upon her.

　“…Let me help you.” Kenichi’s body moved of
its own accord.

The icy step was harder and slipperier than he’d
imagined, but when he put all his strength into it,
the wheelchair clattered up onto the flat road with
a loud thud.

“Thank you so much!”

She turned around. Peeking out from between her
scarf, which had turned white from her breath, was
a face with surprisingly straight features and clear
eyes.

“I want to go to the observation deck at the top of
that hill. There’s something I absolutely have to
see today.”

　“In this snow?” Kenichi was speechless. He
learned her name was Hina. She had been born with a
disability that limited her mobility, but her hobby
was photographing the local scenery.

“...It’s dangerous,” Kenichi said.

“This is the best time of day to get the most
beautiful shots…” Hina said, smiling carefree.

　As if guided by some force, Kenichi began pushing
her wheelchair. He had been searching for a place to
end his own life, yet now he was trudging through the
snow, step by step, for the sake of this one woman.

The slope leading up to the observation deck was
steep. The cold air stung his lungs, and he had long
since lost all feeling in his feet. Yet Hina
continued to chat cheerfully along the way.

“Look at that tree. It’s enduring the weight of
the snow, waiting for spring.”
“Beneath this snow, life is sleeping. White isn’t
the color of nothingness—it’s the color before
something begins.”

Deep inside Kenichi’s chest, something creaked
faintly. He had failed in business, been abandoned
by his family, and had convinced himself that he was
worthless. He’d seen the pure white divorce papers
as a symbol of the “end” of his life. But in her
eyes, this silvery-white world appeared as a “time
of preparation for …