The Fresh Green of Aobayama and the Vanished Footsteps.
This is a story about a grandfather, a participant in the "Eels Incident" that occurred at Tohoku University in 1950, who, approaching his 90th birthday, passes on his turbulent past to his grandson, Ritsu, who lives in the modern age. Finally, here is the moving epilogue.
Epilogue: In the Breeze of Fresh Greenery
One month later.
At the end of May, the city of Sendai was completely enveloped in the scent of deep, fresh greenery.
A few days after finishing the letter from his comrade that day, Grandfather passed away as quietly as if he were sleeping.
It was a peaceful end, as if he had finally set down the heavy burden he had carried for seventy years and finished a long journey.
The evening of the day Grandfather's funeral ended.
Ritsu was walking alone up the slope leading to the Tohoku University campus on Aobayama.
The leaves of the trees swayed in the evening breeze, making a gentle rustling sound.
Ritsu suddenly stopped and slid his right hand into his trouser pocket.
What his fingertips touched was that heavy, cold, and rough "rusted stylus."
The screen of the smartphone he took out of his pocket was as cold and smooth as ever, with no friction or resistance when touched.
On the other side of the screen, countless people consume trivial words without a sound, and they are washed away.
Until now, Ritsu had also lived in that frictionless, smooth world, just drifting along, careful not to hurt anyone's feelings and not to get hurt himself.
However, Ritsu turned off his smartphone screen and put it in his pocket.
Instead, he took out the old, rust-covered stylus and held it up to the shimmering evening light of Aobayama.
The sharp tip of the iron reflected the setting sun, shining dully with a sense of pride.
"Grandfather. Aitsu-san. I won't live a life of just drifting anymore."
Ritsu clenched his right hand tightly, as if to wrap it around the stylus.
The rough sensation of the rust on the stylus faintly stimulated Ritsu's skin. That pleasant friction was a certain "response" of being alive.
One's choices always carry weight, and at times, they may be accompanied by pain.
However, to accept one's own weakness, to protect what is precious even while being wounded, and to move forward one step at a time on one's own feet.
That is what it means to live this connected life—the life that Grandpa survived, that Grandma loved, and that he was proud to risk his life for.
The breeze of fresh green from Aoba Mountain blowing in through the window gently swayed Ritsu's hair.
Ritsu tucked the stylus firmly into his pocket, looked up, and took a powerful step forward toward the future of the shimmering twilight.
Those footsteps echoed across Aoba Mountain, quietly but surely, as if announcing the beginning of a new history.
(The Fresh Green of Aoba Mountain and the Vanished Footsteps. Conclusion)
📖Chapter 4:https://note.com/juicy_laelia8513/n/n8e2ef3f1b26b
📖Chapter 1:https://note.com/juicy_laelia8513/n/nbe2cabd424a5
🌐English Version:https://note.com/ttukumoo/n/n4170a58ea058