Chapter 924

She reached her small hand to her chest and indeed felt her heart beating, tears of joy streaming down her face.

"Makoto has come back to life!"

Teruhara Kokomi smiled: "Yes, indeed."

She stepped forward and embraced Makoto, soothing her: "Everything is over. Now, Makoto's new life has begun! Here, I've prepared clothes for you—put them on first."

"Then I'll take you home."

"Mm." Makoto nodded happily and changed into the clothes.

The resurrection technique can only revive a person—it naturally cannot create a set of clothes.

At least Teruhara Kokomi has not yet attained such a level of Dao.

A moment passed.

Makoto, now dressed, walked ahead nervously, leading Teruhara Kokomi toward her home, soon arriving at the Honma residence.

Makoto stepped forward and rang the doorbell.

"Who is it?"

A childlike voice rang out, then the door opened a crack, and a small, startled head peeked out.

"Who are you?"

Honma Satoshi felt the little girl before him was familiar, yet he could not recall who she was.

Makoto's eyes blurred with tears as she rushed forward and hugged Honma Satoshi, joyfully saying: "Satoshi, it's me, your sister. I'm your sister!"

"Sister?"

Upon hearing this, Honma Satoshi shivered violently in broad daylight.

His sister had died many years ago.

He suddenly remembered—this girl truly did resemble his sister very much.

That was why he felt she was familiar.

His sister had been dead for so many years, yet her spirit tablet had always remained in the house, and he had often seen it—he could never forget her.

He simply had never thought of this possibility before.

"Sister!"

Honma Satoshi's teeth chattered: "Impossible—my sister died long ago. Who are you?"

Makoto repeated: "I am Honma Meiko. I'm your sister. Look—don't I look like her?"

Saying this, she let go of Honma Satoshi and spun around in place.

Honma Satoshi saw Makoto spinning lightly in place, felt a cold shiver run down his back, and reached out to slam the door shut.

"Little one, you mustn't do that!"

Teruhara Kokomi stepped forward, pointing at Makoto: "She truly is your sister—not a ghost or demon. Look—she has a shadow."

Honma Satoshi froze, gazing at his sister in the sunlight, and indeed saw her shadow.

"Is she really my sister?"

Honma Satoshi hesitated: "But my sister is already dead!"

"Even the dead can be resurrected," Teruhara Kokomi smiled lightly.

Honma Satoshi was speechless, rolled his eyes, and said: "Even though I'm just a child, I know people can't come back from the dead, big sister!"

Teruhara Kokomi shook her head: "That's the usual case. But now, you've encountered an unusual one! Call your parents home—I don't want to explain twice."

Honma Satoshi froze, looked at Makoto, saw her hopeful yet nervous expression, hesitated a while, then nodded in agreement.

"I'll call them. Come in and sit down."

Honma Satoshi ushered the two inside and turned to brew tea for them.

Makoto, gazing at the familiar surroundings, said: "Go call them, little brother. I'll prepare tea for Kokomi-niisan."

Saying this, she scurried on her short legs to the refrigerator, took out barley tea, and poured a cup for herself and Teruhara Kokomi.

Honma Satoshi stared at his sister, who looked even younger than he did, felt something deeply odd, stood frozen for several breaths, then returned inside to contact his parents.

Soon, a chorus of shocked cries echoed through the house.

"Kokomi-niisan, do you think my parents will be happy?" Makoto held out the barley tea, her eyes filled with anxious hope.

Teruhara Kokomi smiled: "Don't worry. Makoto, you needn't fear—having seen your own story, you should know your family has always missed you deeply."

Just then, Honma Satoshi walked out of the room.

"Mom and Dad say they'll be here in half an hour. You really are my sister, right?"

"If this is a prank, I'm doomed!"

Makoto smiled lightly: "Of course I am. I still remember..."

She began recounting Honma Satoshi's childhood embarrassments.

"Stop! Don't say any more—it's so embarrassing!"

Hearing Makoto's words, Honma Satoshi was now nearly certain: this girl, younger than himself, was truly his sister.

No outsider could possibly know these private humiliations of his.

He glanced at Teruhara Kokomi, feeling awkward.

His sister really was something—blabbing his childhood embarrassments right in front of a stranger; his dignity was completely shattered.

PS: Thank you to Tianming for the push, thank you to the big bosses for your support.