“No, I’m not,” answered Gohtaro, still hunched over. “Even though Haruka’s father is Shuichi...is you... I could never tell her about you, her real father. You were the one who helped me...and I know I shouldn’t have...but I thought that if Haruka was my real...daughter, then...” Gohtaro continued stumbling over his words. “And I ended up contemplating what should have been unthinkable.”

He brought both hands up to cover his face as he started bawling uncontrollably.

It had been his endless suffering.

By thinking, What if Haruka was really my own daughter, it was as if Shuichi had never existed. Gohtaro, whose feelings of indebtedness to him were insurmountable, despised himself for having thought such a thing.

“Okay, I get it now...and it’s just like you to do this to yourself...you’ve been suffering inside your head the entire time, haven’t you?”

Shuichi sniffed deeply through his runny nose.

“Okay, fine—let’s finish it today,” he continued, tugging at Gohtaro’s earlobe.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” repeated Gohtaro, as tears fell through the crack between his hands still covering his face, and landed pit-a-pat on the table.

“Right!” said Shuichi as he pointed the camera to himself. “Haruka, listen! I have a proposition for you,” he announced. His booming voice reverberated confidently through the café.

“Starting from today,” he began, pulling Gohtaro in close by the shoulder, “your father shall be both me and Gohtaro. Does that sound okay?” he proposed straight into the camera.

Gohtaro’s shoulders stopped shaking with sobs. Shuichi didn’t pause.

“Starting from today, you get an extra dad. That’s quite a bargain. What do you say?”

Gohtaro slowly lifted his teary face.

“Hang on, what are you saying?” he muttered in confusion.

Shuichi turned to Gohtaro.

“You deserve to be happy!” he quipped with utter conviction. “You can damn well stop tormenting yourself by thinking about me,” he urged.

Gohtaro remembered.

Shuichi had always been like this. It never mattered how tough the going was, he was the eternal optimist. Plowing on had always been the only the option. And like always, he was being the man who, even after just learning of his own death, could think of the happiness of others.

“Be happy! Gohtaro...”

In the corner of the small café, two hulking men were hugging each other and crying.

The ceiling fan above them still spun slowly.

Shuichi was first to stop crying. He grabbed Gohtaro’s shoulder.

“Hey! Look at the camera. We’re making a message for Haruka’s wedding, aren’t we?”

Gohtaro, supported by Shuichi’s arm, was finally able to look into the camera, but his face was puffy and soaked in tears.

“Well, smile then,” Shuichi urged. “Come on, both of us are going to put on smiley faces and wish Haruka a happy wedding day, aren’t we?”

Gohtaro tried to smile, but it was no good.