Part 2: THE WEIGHT OF REGRET

Kyoshi walked home from school, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. The familiar streets, the passing faces of neighbors and classmates, all seemed surreal in this second chance he’d been given. It was like walking through a dream, knowing exactly what would happen next, but now with the power to change it.

As he neared his house, the nostalgia hit him harder than he expected. His family home stood there, just as it had all those years ago, its wooden exterior bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. The door opened before he even reached it, and his little sister, Emi, came bounding out to greet him.

“Onii-chan! You're finally home! Mom’s been waiting to eat dinner with you,” she chirped, her eyes sparkling with the innocence of childhood.

Kyoshi smiled at her, though his heart felt heavy. He hadn’t seen her like this in so long. In his previous life, their relationship had grown cold and distant, and the gap between them was one he never bridged. Seeing her now, full of life and love, made him feel an ache in his chest.

“I missed you, Emi,” Kyoshi said softly, ruffling her hair.

She giggled and looked at him as if he had said something strange. “You’re acting weird today, Onii-chan. Did something happen at school?”

“Maybe,” Kyoshi replied with a shrug, trying to keep things light. But inside, the weight of everything he had lost, everything he had done—or failed to do—pressed down on him.

He followed Emi into the house, greeted by the scent of dinner. The warmth of his home, the clatter of dishes being set on the table, the faint hum of the television in the background—it all felt so achingly familiar. His mother stood in the kitchen, her back turned as she finished preparing the meal.

“Mom, I’m home,” Kyoshi said, his voice catching slightly in his throat.

His mother turned around, wiping her hands on her apron. “About time! We were just about to start without you,” she teased, though her eyes softened at the sight of him.

Kyoshi walked over and, without thinking, wrapped his arms around her. He held her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of soap and spices, something that had faded from his memory over the years. In his past life, this moment had slipped away far too soon.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

His mother stiffened slightly, taken aback by his sudden affection. Kyoshi wasn’t the type to show this kind of emotion, not since he had entered his teenage years. She pulled away gently, looking up at him with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“What’s gotten into you today? You’ve been acting strange since this morning,” she said, eyeing him with suspicion, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

Kyoshi only shook his head. He didn’t know how to explain it. How could he tell her that he had lived a lifetime without her? That he had lost her too soon, and the pain of that loss had shaped everything that came after?

Instead, he just smiled, grateful for this moment.

The rest of the family gathered at the table—his father, strong and dependable, and his younger brother, Hiro, still full of the boundless energy of youth. They all sat down to eat, laughing and talking about the day as if nothing had changed. But for Kyoshi, everything was different. Every word, every glance, every sound felt precious, like pieces of a life he had forgotten how to appreciate.

As they ate, Kyoshi found himself staring at each of them, drinking in the sight of their faces. His father, the man he had looked up to for so long, was still full of life, with that same commanding presence that had guided the family through so many storms. His mother, the glue that held them all together, was radiant, her voice full of warmth as she spoke to his siblings.

And then there were Emi and Hiro, laughing and bickering like siblings do. Kyoshi watched them with a pang of guilt. In his first life, after the accident, he had let that laughter fade. He had distanced himself, throwing all his energy into work, thinking that would be the way to honor his parents, to protect his siblings. But in doing so, he had pushed them away.

“I missed you guys,” Kyoshi said suddenly, his voice quiet but full of emotion.

The table fell silent. His family looked at him with puzzled expressions, clearly not understanding what had prompted such a statement.

His father chuckled. “What’s this about, Kyoshi? You’ve been with us all day.”

Kyoshi smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. *Not really,* he thought. *Not the way I should have been.*

His mind wandered back to the darkest time in his life, when everything changed in an instant. He could see it so clearly now—the day of the accident. His parents had been on their way to a family gathering, driving through the countryside. It was supposed to be a normal day, full of laughter and warmth. But in the blink of an eye, it was taken from him.

The phone call came late in the evening. Kyoshi remembered the stillness in the house, how the world seemed to hold its breath when the words were spoken: "There’s been an accident. Your parents…"

His world shattered that night. And in the years that followed, he tried to hold everything together, but in the process, he had lost himself. He dropped out of college to take over the household, worked multiple jobs to support Emi and Hiro. But the weight of responsibility, the grief, and the anger had swallowed him whole. He became distant, cold, driven only by the need to survive.

His siblings had needed him, but he hadn’t been there for them—not really. He had buried himself in work, pushing them away, thinking that if he could just provide for them financially, it would be enough. But as the years passed, the distance between them grew until they became strangers living under the same roof.

By the time Kyoshi was on his deathbed, it had been years since he had spoken to Emi or Hiro. They hadn’t visited him in the hospital, hadn’t even called. He was alone in those final moments, and it was a loneliness he had created.

“I’m sorry,” Kyoshi whispered, more to himself than anyone else, as the memories of that time flooded back.

“Sorry for what?” his mother asked, tilting her head.

Kyoshi looked up at her, then at the rest of his family. His heart ached with the weight of everything he had done wrong in his past life. But now… now he had a chance to change it.

“For everything,” he said, his voice stronger this time. “I don’t say it enough, but I love you all. I… I don’t want to lose any of you.”

His family exchanged confused glances, but there was something in his tone that made them pause. Even Hiro, who was usually quick to tease him, stayed quiet, sensing the gravity of Kyoshi’s words.

His father leaned back in his chair, studying Kyoshi closely. “We’re not going anywhere, son. We’re family. That’s never going to change.”

Kyoshi nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He knew that now. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes this time. He wouldn’t push them away, wouldn’t let work or grief or anything else come between them.

This was his second chance, and he was determined to make the most of it.

As they finished dinner, Kyoshi sat back, watching his family with new eyes. He would hold onto these moments, these simple, beautiful moments of togetherness. He would cherish them, because he knew just how fleeting they could be.

When the dishes were cleared, and his siblings ran off to watch TV, Kyoshi stayed at the table with his parents. He could feel their curious eyes on him, wondering what had caused this sudden change in him. But for now, he didn’t want to explain. He just wanted to be with them.

“I’ll help with the dishes,” Kyoshi said, standing up and gathering the plates.

His mother laughed. “Who are you, and what have you done with my son?”

Kyoshi smiled, the warmth of her laughter filling the empty spaces in his heart. This was only the beginning. He had a long road ahead of him, but this time, he wouldn’t walk it alone.

As he stood at the sink, washing the dishes, a flash of his past life flickered before his eyes—the sterile hospital room, the cold silence, and the crushing loneliness that had marked his final days. He had died with so many regrets, with so much left unsaid.

But now, he had the chance to change it all.

And he wouldn’t waste it.

Chapter end