The conflict is microscopic, as all true dramas of childhood are. At school, Haru’s best friend, Ryo, announces he is going to his grandmother’s house for the weekend. “My mama says I’m her treasure,” Ryo boasts. Haru falls silent. He has no grandmother. He has no father. He only has Mama. That night, he asks a question that lands like a stone in still water: “Mama, am I heavy?”
Aiko freezes. She is washing dishes; her hands are submerged in soapy water. She does not turn around. “Why would you ask that?”
“Ryo says treasures are light. You carry them in your pocket.”
The final scene is a lullaby. Aiko sings an old folk song, her voice slightly off-key. Haru’s eyes flutter. Just before sleep, he murmurs, “ Daisuki da yo, Mama. ” I love you, Mama.
She waits until she is sure he is asleep. Then she whispers into the dark: “I know.”
