Chapter 82 Seventh Chapter Funeral
In the overcast sky of May, summer quietly arrived amidst the drizzle.
Humid air spread under the rain curtain, forming white lines that dripped onto black umbrella surfaces, splashing small water droplets everywhere.
The atmosphere in the solemn funeral parlor was heavy. In a gray-white photo, Ooka’s smile shone brightly.
Ooka’s mother, kneeling in front of the coffin, stared at her son’s pale, placid face skillfully adorned by a makeup artist, sobbing uncontrollably with puffed, red eyes.
Ooka’s father stood beside his wife, his weathered face filled with grief.
Many relatives and friends of Ooka were both inside and outside the funeral home, all dressed in formal black attire, their expressions grim and dejected.
Hayama Hayato, Kaburagi Yamato, and another person stood in line. Miura Yumiko wore a black dress, no longer displaying her usual domineering demeanor, instead appearing like a vulnerable girl clinging to Hayato’s arm, her eyes shimmering with tears.
Yuigahama Yui and Ebina Mika were also by her side.
Shizuka Hiratsuka, rarely seen without her adored white coat, looked very professional in form-fitting black attire leaning against one of the hall columns holding an unlit cigarette.
Yukinoshita Yukino and Hachiman Hikigaya similarly attended Ooka’s funeral with black umbrellas in hand standing outside the funeral parlor.
Rain continued drizzling, and the sky seemed even darker and thicker.
In the future, will I be attending such funerals frequently? Yukinoshita wondered to herself.
Death is unavoidable for anyone. Lin Qi rarely directly addressed the girl’s concerns.
She did not speak anymore, merely watching as the casket was carried out to be transported to the cemetery.
The Ooka family had recently moved from the countryside to Chiba. Few relatives came for the funeral, and Ooka’s mother, having cried so much, was now extremely weak. The casket needed more people besides Ooka’s father to carry it. So, Hayama Hayato, Kaburagi Yamato, and the other person volunteered to help.
“Thank you, Ooka is fortunate to have such friends,” Ooka’s father tried to lighten the mood, addressing his son’s friends.
Hayama remained silent, while Kaburagi and the other individual could not hold back as tears welled up in their eyes, their lips tightly shut.
This regret and distress would become a scar they couldn’t forget.
After placing the casket on the car, only a few dozen people followed the convoy to Chiba Cemetery, mostly students and teachers from Sōbu High School.
Ooka’s father and Hayama lifted the casket, guiding it with management into a pre-dug grave. Four of them picked up shovels and began covering the casket with earth.
Ooka’s father placed his hand on the gravestone, silhouetted by the rain.
This man who seemed to have aged years suddenly, said nothing at the burial, only exhaling wearily, “Thank you, thank you all, go back, don’t get sick.”
“Hey, Hayato, where are you going?”
After Hayama buried Ooka’s casket with the two others, Miura immediately stepped forward with an umbrella, aiming to shield him from rain. He looked darkly ahead, marching directly towards Yukinoshita Yukino.
“You no longer deserve to be my friend.”
Ooka’s last conversation echoed in his mind.
Ooka’s death happened on exactly that day, caused by sudden cardiac arrest after unsuccessful resuscitation.
This explanation was reasonable, as many observed Ooka’s state on the first day back at school, looking as if sleepless days had drained him.
Why come back to school when he’s clearly exhausted? If he made amends to return, why not wait until recovery? Was a single day off truly significant?
Only a compelling reason could drive him to come back under such conditions.
He couldn’t think of any reason except that.
After his self-reflection concluded, his next direction became the Special Building.
Surely, no one leaves through the courtyard without avoiding the roundabout detour near the Special Building.
Hayama Hayato arrived in front of Yukinoshita Yukino and Hachiman Hikigaya.
His golden hair soaked by rain, his gloomy expression completely different from his usually sunny disposition.
“Yukinoshita, I have a question for you.” He choked up, struggling to ask.
“What?” Yukinoshita replied calmly.
“Was Ooka at the Service Club on the day he died?” Hayama asked, his red eyes focused on Yukinoshita.
“Hey, you…” Hachiman tried to interject, but Yukinoshita stopped him, forcing him to swallow his words.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Did he say anything before… before he…” Hayama asked, his voice wavering significantly.
A scene flashed in his mind—Ooka telling him to escape, then taking a deep breath. “No, he probably wanted to say something, but symptoms of sudden cardiac arrest appeared beforehand.”
“In front of me, he died.”
“What?” Hayama staggered briefly. “Apologies…”
“There is nothing to apologize for. What else do you want to ask?” Yukinoshita seemed unperturbed, her thoughts inscrutable.
“…Nothing else.”
Hayama departed despondently, and Miura hurriedly ran over to offer an umbrella, which he took this time and gave an uneasy smile.
As people slowly dispersed in the cemetery,
finally, Shizuka approached Yukinoshita, softly asking, “Do you want me to take you home?”
“No need,” Yukinoshita refused with a shake of her head.
“And you?” She turned to Hachiman next.
After glancing at Yukinoshita, Hachiman nodded, saying, “Please, Teacher Shizuka.”
“No trouble, follow me,” the dependable adult gestured with car keys.
Seeing Yukinoshita’s expression, Shizuka strangely understood what Shizuku’s mention of Yukinoshita’s development meant.
Perhaps, she had experienced much unknown to all, which helped her bury her sorrow.
May she not become a second version of Shizuku.
With a slight sigh, Shizuka put her arm around Hachiman, asking if he would like to eat ramen.
Once they vanished from sight, Yukinoshita softly remarked, “Let’s find him, Mr. Lin Qi.”
“That true murderer.”
“Sure.”
Lin Qi readily agreed.
…
After School, and to become a Jujutsu Sorcerer:
