The Iron Stylus of Aobayama- Episode 4

Inheriting the Stylus

"Grandpa... there's still more to the letter."

Ritsu opened the final sheet of the washi paper letter that had been left at the bottom of the brown envelope. There, written in the polite hand of the surviving family, were the words that "he" had left behind for his family in his final years.

"On that day, when I was caught, I saw him fleeing. From the bottom of my heart, I prayed that he would escape.

If not a single one of us survived to become happy in a peaceful, ordinary way, then all of the youth we desperately fought for in those dark times would have been in vain.

The fact that he lived an ordinary life and built a warm family was the single greatest pride of my life.

I have kept your stylus all this time. In returning this to you, my journey finally comes to an end.

Thank you so much for surviving."

When Ritsu finished reading, the room was filled with the quiet sound of weeping. Without even trying to wipe the tears overflowing from his eyes, the grandfather stared up at the ceiling, smiling deeply and gently. It was as if the cold sediment that had rested at the bottom of his heart for seventy years was finally melting into warm light under his friend's words.

"I see... He never hated me. He actually affirmed my very existence..."

Ritsu completely let go of the flat, inorganic light switch on the wall. Instead, he tightly gripped the rusted, heavy stylus in his hands, cradling it. It was incredibly cold and rough, yet through his fingertips, it clearly transmitted the raw, tactile texture of the turbulent Shōwa era that his grandfather and his friend had lived through.

"Grandpa... is it okay if I keep this stylus?"

At Ritsu's words, the grandfather slowly nodded.

"Yes, it is yours, Ritsu. That stylus... is the tangible proof that we tried to choose our own future with our own hands."

At that moment, the grandfather’s hand gently wrapped around Ritsu's warm hand. It was a certain warmth of "life," identical to the gentleness with which his grandmother had wrapped his grandfather's hand on that stormy night.

"You must move forward with your own will. If my regret and his pride can become the strength for you to choose your own future, that is more than enough."

A quiet, yet extraordinarily warm silence flowed between the two in the hospital room.

📖 Next: Epilogue：https://note.com/ttukumoo/n/n4170a58ea058
📖Previous Chapter:https://note.com/ttukumoo/n/n86da5d05d18a
🌐 Original Japaneseher:https://note.com/juicy_laelia8513/n/n8e2ef3f1b26b

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