With a department store bag in hand, I walked the road home.
It was the same road I'd taken yesterday, after being laid off—yet the scenery looked completely different. My steps might have been lighter than they'd been in years, even compared to my salaryman days.
When I opened the front door, Misaki peeked her face out from the living room.
"Welcome home, Dad. Out doing market research again today?"
"Ah, yeah. Something like that."
Feeling a little embarrassed, I set the bag down on the dining table.
When I pulled out a pack of roast beef and a cake box, Misaki's eyes went wide with surprise.
"Eh, wha—what is this? Dad, what happened? Did you win the lottery or something?"
"Haha, well... something like that."
Her exaggerated reaction made me smile without meaning to.
This was the smile I wanted to see.
What I'd really wanted all along was this.
"I just started a part-time job today. The pay's decent. Consider this a little celebration for my first day."
I gave her an explanation that was half-true, half-lie.
I couldn't tell her yet that I'd become an adventurer. It would only worry her. But it was true I'd earned this.
Misaki stared at my face.
Her eyes seemed to search for something—yet at the same time, they carried a trace of relief.
"I see... but don't push yourself, okay?"
"I know."
She didn't ask anything more. Instead she said brightly, "I'll get the plates ready!" and hurried toward the cupboard.
Watching her back, I quietly made a vow.
I would protect this everyday life. I would protect this daughter's smile.
For that, I'd dive into any dangerous dungeon. That was my firm oath.
* * *
That night's dinner was the most luxurious we'd had in months.
The slices of roast beef melted softly in my mouth. Misaki's eyes sparkled as she said "So good" again and again, stuffing her cheeks with meat.
Just watching her filled me up inside.
For dessert we had a fruit tart from a famous shop.
Even though I'd never been big on sweets, tonight it tasted special.
The layoff, the worries about the future—within this modest happiness, those things seemed to melt away bit by bit.
After Misaki returned to her room, I cracked open a can of beer alone in the kitchen.
Pssht—the crisp sound was pleasant.
I tipped the can toward the small altar where my late wife's photo stood.
"Dear, you see this? Looks like I can still do it."
Of course there was no reply.
But it felt like the woman in the picture was smiling faintly.
I gulped down the cold beer.
Bitter as it should've been, tonight it tasted strangely sweet.
Maybe this was the best beer of my life.
The comeback story of a laid-off middle-aged man.
Its prologue came to a quiet close like this.