Puzzle Pieces
They say a woman's tears are beautiful.
But that isn't the case when they belong to a little girl weeping her heart out.
"..."
Without knowing what was wrong, I had no choice but to pat her back.
"*Wahhh...*"
I tried my best to comfort her, but it was no use.
The more I tried to speak to her, the tighter Yuna clung to me, her sobs only growing louder.
If I at least knew the reason, I could try to do something about it.
But since I was completely in the dark, all I could do was keep patting her back.
"Yuna, what's wrong? Hmm?"
"*Hic... ugh...*"
As she continued to cry so sorrowfully, I couldn't help but start feeling self-conscious.
At this rate, the entire neighborhood would wake up and throw their windows open.
I could already picture the barrage of dirty looks and scoldings I'd receive.
"There, there, Yuna..."
Left with no choice, I scooped her up into my arms.
As her small, light body settled against me, her tears seemed to subside just a little.
"It's cold out here. Why did you come outside? Let's go back in."
"...*Hic*..."
Instead of answering, Yuna wrapped her arms tightly around my neck.
Her determination not to let go was absolute.
Her cold, bare feet brushed against my arm.
What on earth was she thinking, running out here barefoot just to cry like this?
Yuna simply buried her face in the crook of my neck, continuing to sniffle.
Once we got back inside, I tried to set Yuna down on the sofa.
"N-No... D-Don't let go of meee..."
But I failed.
The arms wrapped around my neck tightened even further.
Even the slightest gesture of leaning down to place her on the sofa made her cling to me in sheer panic.
"...Alright, alright. I won't."
Defeated, I sat down on the sofa while still holding her.
With her nestled on my lap, I gently patted her back, and only then did her trembling body begin to calm down.
"..."
Did she have a nightmare?
Maybe she woke up from a bad dream, found the house empty, and ran outside.
Well, it makes sense. She almost got eaten by a Monster today.
Even I kept seeing that Monster's face in my mind, feeling a lingering chill.
So how much worse must it be for an eight-year-old?
"Are you feeling a bit better now?" I asked, patting her back.
"..."
Yuna didn't answer.
The only change was that she had shifted her face from my neck to bury it against my chest.
I still wasn't used to the sensation of this tiny, squirming warmth pressed against my chest.
Every now and then, she let out a soft sniffle against my chest.
She kept her face buried there for a long time.
Her crying had stopped, but she showed no intention of letting go.
With no other choice, I sat there quietly.
"..."
Did I make some kind of huge mistake?
But nothing clear came to mind.
Ah, whatever. I don't know...
She had been making all sorts of happy noises right before going to sleep. What sudden whim had possessed her to act like this?
Lost in thought, I glanced up at the clock. The hour hand was pointing at eight.
It's already eight o'clock?
It felt like the middle of the night.
Suddenly, I realized just how long this day had been.
She sniffled again.
We stayed like that for a little while longer.
"..."
Suddenly, Yuna lifted her head and looked up at me.
Her eyes were swollen and puffy.
Her lips parted slightly, as if she had something to say.
It seemed like she was trying to find the words...
"..."
But in the end, she said nothing.
Instead, she scrambled down from my lap.
"Oh..."
Was she feeling better now?
Yuna sniffled as she walked back into the master bedroom by herself.
Was she going back to sleep?
"..."
I sat there blankly, completely bewildered.
But a moment later, I heard a rustling sound.
Yuna walked back out, cradling something familiar in her arms.
It was the puzzle.
The very thing that had been eating away at my body and soul before we went out to eat.
Her words about finishing the puzzle tonight flashed through my mind.
"Should we finish the puzzle together?" I asked, stating the obvious.
"...Yeah."
Yuna nodded, her cute face still slightly tear-stained.
She set the puzzle board down on the living room floor with a clatter.
The impact sent the few pieces we had managed to put together earlier scattering across the floor.
Well, even though our progress was ruined...
I had eaten, and my energy was back.
I figured I might as well just finish the whole thing this time.
I grabbed a handful of the scattered pieces from the floor.
I was about to start by assembling the border, but—
"N-No..."
Yuna hastily snatched all the pieces out of my hand.
"...This one. Do this one first."
She picked out a single piece and held it out to me.
It was a piece showing a section of the Magical Girl's hair.
"..."
She had done this earlier in the afternoon, too. It seemed she was going to hand them to me one by one again.
Did she want to stretch out this puzzle time with her "dad" as long as possible?
For some reason, Yuna's eyes looked anxious.
Before I knew it, it was nine o'clock.
Receiving the pieces one by one, agonizingly slowly, was taking its toll. As the puzzle neared completion, my entire body began to ache.
"Next is this one..."
Yuna would fiddle around for a while, and when she found a piece she liked, she would hand it to me.
I would fit it into its proper place.
Fortunately, she seemed satisfied this time, as she didn't flip the board over midway through.
"Daddy, I-I'm not going to sleep today until we finish this puzzle, okay?"
How is she finding this so fun?
I let out a chuckle and nodded. We were almost done anyway.
"Ah, my back."
There were only four or five pieces left.
But hunched over the puzzle for so long, I felt like I was going to herniate a disc if I kept this up.
"I'm going to use the bathroom for a second."
I pushed myself up and headed toward the bathroom. Truth be told, I really had to pee.
"D-Daddy, wait—"
"I'll be right back, don't worry."
This brief respite was incredibly sweet.
Yuna seemed to say something else, but her voice quickly trailed off.
I relieved myself with a sigh of satisfaction.
I stood in front of the sink to wash my hands.
I turned on the tap, rubbing my hands together as I looked around the bathroom.
The walls were yellowed with age.
Still, at least there was a bathtub. When I was a kid, we had to go to the public bathhouse just to use a tub.
"...?"
As I shook the water off my hands, my eyes caught something in the tub.
What was that?
"Is that a bug?"
There were a few small objects lying on the dry, moisture-free bottom of the tub.
"..."
Looking closer, they weren't bugs at all.
They were puzzle pieces.
Specifically, pieces of the Magical Girl puzzle we were just putting together in the living room.
But why were they here?
"..."
I stared at the pieces in my palm.
One was part of the cool slogan at the top.
One was a bottom corner piece.
And one was a piece showing part of the Magical Girl's leg near the bottom.
"..."
I thought about it again.
Why were these here?
More importantly, when did she put them here?
Was it before she brought the puzzle out of the master bedroom just now?
Or maybe even earlier than that.
"Ha..."
Suddenly, I remembered what happened earlier in the afternoon.
Every time we were close to finishing, she would inevitably flip the board and scatter the pieces.
But unlike the old men at the park who flipped the board and left, Yuna would gather the ruined pieces and insist on continuing.
"..."
I tried to dismiss the possibilities forming in my mind.
I didn't want to doubt her.
How could an eight-year-old be so calculating?
She probably just dropped them in the tub while playing.
Or maybe she threw them in there as a game, like hide-and-seek.
Even when I was a kid, I used to lose my favorite glass marbles all the time while playing with them.
I loosely gripped the three pieces in my hand and turned the bathroom doorknob.
Now we could finally finish the puzzle.
When I stepped back into the living room, Yuna was waiting for me, hugging her knees.
Had I been gone too long?
I sat down across from her.
Clenching the three pieces I had found in my hand, I spoke proudly.
"Yuna."
"Yeah..."
"Guess what Daddy found?"
At my words, Yuna's eyes instantly widened as she scanned my entire body.
...She didn't think I brought her a surprise present, did she?
"Ta-da!"
I awkwardly held out the three puzzle pieces.
"Daddy found these in the bathtub."
I was about to add, "Though they aren't really important pieces..."
"You lost these, right? I..."
My voice trailed off as I looked at Yuna's face.
Yuna didn't look happy to see the lost pieces. But she wasn't crying either.
"..."
She just stared blankly at the pieces in my palm.
"...Yuna?"
A sudden chill crept over me, prompting me to call her name, but Yuna didn't respond.
Goosebumps broke out on my skin, making me look behind me, but there was nothing there.
Yuna, who had been staring intently at the pieces, finally met my eyes with a look of utter despair.
"Yuna, are you okay?"
Her lower lip trembled as she stared at me.
With an awkward smile, I began fitting the pieces I had found into their correct spots.
"...Alright, now there are only, uh, three pieces left."
Yuna still just stared at me blankly.
Slowly, her gaze shifted down to the board, which now had very few empty spaces left.
"..."
This time, instead of handing the piece to me, she placed one in herself.
Then she placed the next one.
Did she suddenly get tired of this?
"Only one left!"
I was just glad to finally be escaping this dreadful puzzle.
But Yuna dropped the final piece before she could fit it in.
Then she looked up at me.
Unlike before, her eyes were brimming with emotion.
She suddenly stood up.
She stepped right onto the puzzle board, completely ignoring the fact that the pieces we had worked so hard to assemble were scattering all over again.
"...D-Daddy..."
Her body trembled as she clenched her small fists.
"...I-I don't like this game anymore. So..."
She forced herself to look toward the master bedroom.
"Let's do s-something else instead... okay?" she pleaded.
"Don't go home. Just stay with m-me a little longer... *hic, ugh*..."
She was trying so hard to act like nothing was wrong.
'Don't go home. Just stay with me a little longer?'
Only then did I realize.
Yuna was under a massive misunderstanding.