The Iron Stylus of Aobayama- Epilogue

In the Green Breeze

One month later.

By the end of May, the city of Sendai was completely enveloped in the deep, rich fragrance of fresh green leaves.

A few days after reading the letter from his comrade on that fateful day, Ritsu's grandfather passed away quietly, as if slipping into a peaceful sleep.

It was a serene end, as though he had finally set down the heavy burden he had carried for seventy years and finished his long, arduous journey.

At dusk on the day of his grandfather's funeral, Ritsu walked alone up the sloping path leading to the Tohoku University campus on Mount Aoba.

The leaves of the trees rustled in the evening breeze, making a soft, gentle sound.

Ritsu stopped, slipping his right hand into his trousers pocket. What his fingertips brushed against was that heavy, cold, and coarse "rusted stylus."

He pulled his smartphone from his pocket. The screen was, as always, cold and smooth, offering no friction or resistance to his touch.

Beyond the glass, countless people consumed trivial words silently, drifting aimlessly. Until recently, Ritsu had lived just like them in that frictionless, seamless world—drifting along so as not to hurt anyone, and not to get hurt himself.

But Ritsu turned off the smartphone screen and slipped it deep into his pocket. Instead, he pulled out the old, rusted stylus and held it up against the shimmering evening light of Mount Aoba.

The pointed iron tip reflected the setting sun, glowing with a quiet, almost proud dull luster.

"Grandpa... and his friend. I won't live just drifting along anymore."

Ritsu squeezed his right hand tightly around the stylus. The rough texture of the rust faintly stimulated Ritsu's skin. That comfortable friction was the undeniable "feel" of being alive.

One's choices always carry weight, and sometimes they may bring pain.

Yet, to accept one's own weakness, to protect what is precious even while getting hurt, and to move forward step by step on one's own feet... That is what it truly means to live this connected life—the life his grandfather had survived to protect, his grandmother had loved, and his friend had proudly cherished with all his might.

The breeze carrying the scent of fresh green from Mount Aoba gently stirred Ritsu's hair.

Slipping the stylus securely back into his pocket, Ritsu looked up and took a powerful step forward into the shimmering dusk of his future. His footsteps echoed quietly yet firmly across Mount Aoba, as if silently announcing the beginning of a new history.

The End of "The Fresh Green of Mount Aoba and the Vanishing Footsteps"

📖Previous Chapter:https://note.com/ttukumoo/n/n1e6a61f9b48a
🌐OriginalJapanesehere:https://note.com/juicy_laelia8513/n/n48f2bdfc83cb　　　　　　　　　　　　　　

"Thank you so much for reading to the very end!"💗