Ever since I returned to school after recovering from my illness, everyone started to notice a change in .
I stopped being late. I did all my howork, every single assignnt.
Even in sports, when I played baseball with Suneo and Gian, I rarely made mistakes—I even hit a few ho runs. In gym class, I finally passed.
Shizuka's cheeks would flush with happiness, and she kept praising , saying how amazing I was. It was honestly a little embarrassing.
Of course, with changing, Gian and Suneo weren't so thrilled. One day, they picked a fight with . I wasn't the old Nobita anymore—I fought back. I grabbed their faces and rubbed them hard into the ground, kicked them a few tis too. Gian was tough, but after a few beatings, he finally gave in.
In our most recent exams, my scores shot up. I thought about getting a perfect score, but that might be too suspicious—people might think I cheated. So for the first test, I got 80 points, then raised it to 90 in the next one.
Just those two scores were enough to make Mom and Doraemon cry tears of joy. Mom cooked a huge feast. Doraemon even took out so gadgets to celebrate. It all seed a bit too much, honestly, but seeing them happy made happy too.
A week passed like this. Life was good. But then, it was ti for Dad's funeral.
There were a lot of relatives, but I only recognized a few—my uncle, my mom's brother. The rest were strangers.
Shizuka, Suneo, and Gian ca too. They offered their condolences, but there wasn't much else they could do.
After the ceremony, Mom held Dad's urn—he was already ashes now—and placed it in the family grave. We covered it with earth. That was it. It was over.
In the end, only the three of us were left: , Mom, and Doraemon.
I looked at Mom, dressed in her widow's clothes, beautiful even in grief. I turned to Dad's tombstone and spoke:
"Dad, rest easy. I'll take care of Mom from now on.
You don't have to worry—I won't let her suffer."
Doraemon, crying hard, said, "Don't worry, I'll take care of Nobita and Mom too."
Mom wiped her tears, her voice trembling:
"Nobita's grown up now, not the mischievous boy he once was.
He's changed so much—no more bad habits, he's not late for school, and he does well in class. He even got praised by his teacher this week."
"If only you could see him now!
I'll raise him well, until he can support the Nobi family.
If you can hear , please watch over us and keep Nobita safe."
Mom wiped her face, her eyes shining with determination.
"Alright, let's go ho, Nobita, Doraemon. We'll visit Dad again soon." Mom turned and called us to follow her.
…
At ho.
"Don't worry, Mom. I'll support our family from now on."
Suddenly, Mom hugged tightly.
She sobbed, "Nobita, from now on it's just us holding up this family." For so reason, her strength from earlier faded away, and she cried in my arms.
I could feel her softness as I held her, my face pressed into her. The scent of her—gentle and familiar—filled my nose.
I hugged her back and patted her softly on the back, comforting her.
"Don't be afraid, Mom. I'm here," I whispered.
At so point, her arms around beca my arms around her. Mom buried her face in my chest, and as we spoke softly, I continued to gently stroke her back.
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