THANK YOU
Inside the room were my mother, Hikari, Daichi, and me. We all stood in silence, looking at the old man lying in bed, his breathing shallow.
Ever since we had brought him back the previous night, we had tried everything we could—medical ninjutsu and Spiritual Water—but all it had done was prolong his life for a few more hours.
Based on what I knew about Spiritual Water, it was truly miraculous. It should have been able to heal anything. In the old man's case, perhaps it was simply old age... or perhaps he had already given up on himself and was ready for everything to end.
The old man looked at us, then his gaze settled on Daichi, and he smiled gently.
It was the first time I had ever seen him smile. I even found myself wondering whether he actually knew how, because every time I had met him before, he always wore a permanent scowl.
“So... I still have company.”
“How are you feeling?” my mother asked as she stepped closer.
The old man let out a quiet chuckle.
“Like an old man who has finally realized that his time has run out.”
“Your wounds have closed. I can continue treating you,” Hikari said as she approached the bed.
The old man shook his head.
“My dear... there are wounds that no cure can ever reach.”
He turned to my mother.
“Ma'am... thank you.”
She frowned slightly.
“For what?”
“For raising children who are so... different.”
He smiled.
“Polite when they should be.”
“Stubborn when they shouldn't.”
His eyes settled on me.
“Especially this one.”
I crossed my arms.
“Me?”
“Yes. You.”
The old man started laughing, but soon broke into a cough.
“I'll never forget the day you almost knocked down my front gate.”
All of us laughed through our tears.
The old man continued.
“I told you I didn't build carriages...”
“And what did you do?”
I looked away.
“...”
“BANG!”
He raised one finger.
“BANG!”
“BANG!”
“BANG!”
“You spent nearly ten minutes pounding on my gate.”
Hikari covered her mouth to hide a smile.
The old man looked at my mother.
“I thought, 'What an unbearable child...'”
Then he smiled at me.
“But in the end... you were just a boy worried about his family.”
I smiled awkwardly.
“And then you threw a bucket of water at me.”
“Of course I did. And if my body had still been in shape, I would've chased you down and given you the beating you deserved.”
Everyone let out another soft laugh.
The atmosphere became lighter.
Then the old man slowly turned toward Daichi.
His smile became much gentler.
“And you...”
Daichi stepped closer to the bed.
“I'm here.”
The old man raised his hand.
Daichi immediately took it.
“You know...”
“These past few days...”
“My workshop came back to life.”
His eyes drifted into the distance.
“I hadn't heard laughter in years.”
“I hadn't had anyone asking endless questions.”
He smiled.
“'Why is this wheel bigger?'”
“'Why is this wood better?'”
“'Can I try the hammer?'”
Daichi began to cry.
The rest of us couldn't hold back our tears either.
“I asked a lot of questions...”
“You certainly did.”
The old man reached up and gently stroked Daichi's head.
“And that's what made my days happy.”
His voice trembled.
“When I looked at you...”
He paused.
“I saw my granddaughter.”
Tears rolled down his face.
“She was about your age.”
“Her name was...”
He struggled to breathe.
“Mei.”
“Mei...”
Daichi repeated softly.
“She was such a curious little girl... She smiled at everything. She loved running around the workshop...”
The old man closed his eyes.
“Then the Second Great War came.”
The room fell completely silent.
“First it took my wife.”
“Then my son.”
“Then my daughter-in-law.”
His voice almost disappeared.
“And in the middle of all that chaos... Mei vanished.”
He slowly opened his eyes again.
“I searched for years... through villages, refugee camps, and hospitals.”
“I never found my little girl again.”
Daichi squeezed his hand tightly.
“We'll find her!”
The old man smiled sadly.
“Perhaps...”
“Perhaps she doesn't even remember me anymore.”
“Perhaps she already has another family.”
“Perhaps she's already...”
He drew a deep breath.
“But if... by any chance...”
He looked at me.
“If one day you find a girl named...”
“Tell her...”
Tears streamed freely down his face.
“Tell her that her grandfather never stopped waiting for her.”
I lowered my head.
“I promise. If I ever find her... Akiyama Mei.”
The old man nodded, then smiled.
“No... her name is Terumi Mei. She took her mother's family name.”
All of us fell silent, somewhat stunned.
That was unusual—even in the modern world I came from, let alone in this traditional one.
“At the time, I was so furious with my son. That fool brought shame upon our entire family... upon all our ancestors. He said it would only be for the first child because my daughter-in-law was her parents' only daughter, and their family line had to continue. He promised they would make up for it later with more and more grandchildren... but who could have imagined...”
He closed his eyes.
We all understood what that meant.
He had passed away.
Then he looked at Daichi once more.
The boy was already crying too hard to speak.
“No...”
The old man wiped away one of his tears with his thumb.
“Don't cry.”
“I don't want the last image I carry from this world to be that of my grandson crying.”
“There is something... I never told you.”
We all remained silent.
“When my wife died... I thought I could keep going because of my son.”
His breathing became heavier.
“When my son and daughter-in-law died... I thought I could keep going because of Mei.”
A tear slid down his face.
“When Mei disappeared...”
He closed his eyes.
“That day... I died too.”
Daichi tightened his grip on his hand.
The old man continued.
“For years... I woke up without knowing why.”
“Food had no taste.”
“Sleep brought no rest.”
“Breathing became nothing more than... a habit.”
My mother lowered her gaze.
“Then I walked into my workshop.”
The old man smiled faintly.
“I picked up a piece of wood.”
“Then another.”
“And another.”
“Without realizing it... I started building another carriage.”
“Why?” I asked quietly.
The old man took several seconds before answering.
“Because while my hands were working... my mind no longer had to listen to the silence inside the house.”
The room became perfectly still.
“The sound of the hammer...”
“It was the only sound that could silence my loneliness.”
Tears streamed down Daichi's face.
“For years, I kept telling myself...”
He smiled.
‘Just one more piece.’
‘Just one more wheel.’
‘Only the roof is left.’
He slowly shook his head.
“I was lying to myself.”
“I wasn't building a carriage.”
“I was only... postponing the moment I'd have to accept that I was alone.”
Silence filled the room.
Then he looked at Daichi.
And once again that day, he smiled like a true grandfather.
“Until you came.”
Daichi managed a smile through his tears.
“You brought noise into a house where there had only been silence.”
The old man took a deep breath.
Then he spoke almost in a whisper.
“Daichi...”
“The carriage...”
“It's finished.”
The boy immediately shook his head.
“No.”
“It's still missing...”
“No, it isn't,” the old man interrupted.
“What it was missing...”
“...was someone to give it a destination.”
His eyes grew moist.
“It belongs to you now.”
Daichi immediately burst into tears.
“I don't want it!”
“I want you to stay!”
With tremendous effort, the old man raised his hand and rested it on the boy's head.
“What a selfish child...”
He smiled.
“Can't an old man rest in peace?”
Daichi sobbed.
The old man continued.
“Listen to me.”
“A carriage that never moves... rots.”
“A heart that never moves... does too.”
He struggled for breath.
“Take it with you.”
“Let it travel roads I never had the chance to see.”
“Carry people who still have families waiting to embrace them.”
“Carry children who still have the chance to laugh.”
Tears flowed endlessly down his face.
“That way...”
The old man smiled.
“Perhaps... a small part of me...”
“...will finally make it home.”
“My body has wanted to rest for a very long time.”
He looked out the window.
“I was only waiting...”
He paused.
“To feel the warmth of a family one last time.”
He looked back at all of us.
“And you gave me that.”
Then his eyes settled on Daichi.
“Thank you...”
“For letting me be a grandfather again.”
The strength left his hand.
Silence filled the house.
Daichi remained frozen, holding the lifeless hand in his own.