The Last Drop-Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The End of the Postwar Era, and a New Sky

　The hospital monitor beat with a rhythm that was astonishingly quiet and steady.

How much time had passed since Chihiro first grasped her grandmother Haru's hand?

The evening light spilling through the window bathed Haru's deeply wrinkled profile in a warm orange glow. Her expression was peaceful now, the rigid tension of before entirely gone.

"Grandmother," Chihiro whispered, her other hand gently touching the rusted tin resting by the bedside.

The summer of Showa 21. Amidst starvation and fear, a ten-year-old girl had risked everything to hide a single piece of candy. From that moment began Haru’s ninety-year-long, lonely battle.

"It's okay now," Chihiro said, letting her tears fall freely, speaking softly and tenderly into Haru's ear.

"You lived as hard as you could, Grandmother. You didn't want her to die, you didn't want her to get sick, and you fought so hard to protect her. That wasn't a mistake. It was filled with your love. So please, forgive yourself. I know she has been waiting for her big sister all this time. ...Your postwar era is finally over, Grandmother."

Haru’s fingertips twitched slightly, as if conveying her final warmth into Chihiro’s palm.

Haru exhaled a deep, long, peaceful breath.

With the end of that breath, the monitor's rhythmic beep flattened into a quiet, continuous tone.

Amidst the hurried footsteps of the doctors and nurses rushing into the room, Chihiro kept her eyes fixed on her grandmother’s face.

Her expression was more peaceful than ever before—as if, under that blindingly beautiful blue sky of eighty years ago, she had finally run to her beloved little sister, laughing together.

Haru’s ninety-year journey came to a quiet close at the end of a hot summer in 2026.

The seasons turned, and spring arrived.

The sky, framed squarely by towering buildings, was a hazy, pale blue.

The endless roar of traffic, the chatter of passersby, the lukewarm draft blowing up from the subway stairs—the Tokyo spring enveloped Chihiro at a dizzying speed.

Chihiro stopped in the middle of the crowd and slipped her smartphone into her pocket.

A few weeks had passed since her university entrance ceremony and the start of her life in her new apartment. No matter how much she had researched online beforehand, her actual life was filled with nothing but unexpected struggles.

She failed her part-time job interviews, cut her finger cooking for herself, and felt nauseous just riding the packed commuter trains.

The arrogant confidence she once held—thinking "Tokyo is nothing, I can handle anything with my phone"—had been effortlessly crushed by the cold reality of the actual city.

"Maybe my decision was wrong after all..."

As the wind swept through the skyscrapers and a wave of loneliness and anxiety crept up from her feet, Chihiro reached deep into her backpack.

Wrapped in a towel, she pulled out a heavy, rusted iron tin. It was Haru’s memento, which she had carried with extreme care so the rust wouldn't flake off.

Chihiro opened the lid and stared at the hardened mass of brown candy inside.

It was a relic of the past, devoid of sweetness and caked with rust. Yet, to Chihiro, it was a precious, irreplaceable amulet.

In the back of her mind, Haru's raspy yet steady voice from the hospital room echoed once more.

—Within you flows the blood of your grandmother, who survived that turbulent Tokyo, choosing her own path and treading the earth with her own feet, even while terrified and lost.

—It is okay to make mistakes. Making a mistake doesn't mean your life is over. Even from the empty ruins, a person can think with their own head, lace up new shoes, and take another step.

(Grandmother...)

Chihiro slowly looked up.

The sky visible through the gaps of the skyscrapers was narrow and hazy compared to the fierce, brilliant "blue" of Showa 20 that Haru had described. Yet, under this sky, Chihiro's heart was beating steadily.

"Assumptions are fatal."

Chihiro muttered her grandmother’s catchphrase under her breath.

Once, it had been a binding curse she wanted to block out. But now, it was different.

"I must never assume that I am perfectly fine, or that I can do everything on my own. It is okay to fail, to get lost, and to be afraid. Every single time, I can stop, think with my own head, and choose again."

It was the true "prayer" that her grandmother had risked her ninety years of life to leave behind for her.

Chihiro tucked the rusted tin safely back into her backpack and laced her shoes tightly.

No one in the crowd paid her any mind, but that felt strangely comforting. In this massive metropolis where no one would give her the right answer, she would find her own, even if she got hurt along the way.

Chihiro took a step forward.

The concrete beneath her feet was cold, yet incredibly firm and certain.

The sky above stretched on and on, endless.

📖 Next: Epilogue：https://note.com/ttukumoo/n/n34baf79e3fc0 
📖Previous Chapter:https://note.com/ttukumoo/n/n289db9fbfb44  
🌐 Original Japaneseher:https://note.com/juicy_laelia8513/n/n9b3ff115d2da 

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