Old Grandmother was still trying to catch every word the child said.
"They're not worried about me!"
The little boy finally shouted.
How could they be worried about him?
Even though they lived under the same roof, he often felt so far away from them.
So far that...
Their eyes never seemed to catch his reflection.
Their ears never seemed to hear his voice.
Old Grandmother was startled by the child's sudden outburst.
Then she suddenly understood.
So he'd had a fight with his parents.
No wonder he was hiding here alone and crying.
The wrinkles at the corners of Old Grandmother's eyes eased.
She smiled kindly.
"How could they not be worried about you?"
"No matter how big a disagreement there is between a child and their parents, blood is thicker than water. They're your parents, child."
"They're the people closest to you in the world."
"Even if they don't show it, they must be worried about you in their hearts."
"You're their child."
The little boy unconsciously bit down on his lower lip.
Really? Was that true?
In fact, everything he'd learned told him that was how it worked.
In his textbooks, and in what his teachers had taught him...
They all said so.
But...
Everything he'd experienced firsthand always made him unable to stop doubting.
Was it true?
Even though his parents treated him so perfunctorily and coldly, did they actually... love him?
His parents just weren't good at expressing themselves...
He wasn't good at expressing himself either.
Had he gotten that from his parents?
The little boy sniffled.
But...
Even if it only happened once in a while...
He wanted a little something in return... to reassure himself...
Yes.
His parents loved him very much.
They really just weren't good