A sedan moved slowly through the crisp winter air, carrying a father and son away from the city.
“It’s been a while since we took a drive together, Naoto.”
From the passenger seat, Koichi, his father, gazed out at the passing scenery with nostalgia in his eyes.
Naoto, gripping the steering wheel, let out a small smile.
“Yeah… When was the last time?”
“Before you left for university, so… more than ten years ago.”
Koichi’s voice carried a mix of fondness and quiet sorrow.
Not wanting to dwell on the weight of those years, Naoto reached for the volume knob, turning up the radio.
An old folk song from the ‘70s filled the car—the same songs his father used to hum when he was younger.
Their destination was a coastal town they had often visited as a family.
“You used to beg for ice cream at this rest stop every time we came here.”
Koichi chuckled as they pulled into a familiar parking lot.
Naoto smirked.
“Did I?”
He pretended to have forgotten, but the memories were still vivid.
Back then, his mother was alive. Back then, the world felt whole.
But time had moved on. His mother passed away, Naoto buried himself in work, and Koichi grew old alone.
“If your mother were still here, we could’ve come back as a family again.”
His father’s quiet words sent a pang through Naoto’s chest.
“Yeah… I know.”
Koichi took a bite of his ice cream, savoring the moment.
Then, after a long silence, he finally spoke.
“Naoto… The doctor gave me six months.”
Naoto’s hands froze on the steering wheel.
“…What?”
“I wish it were a lie,” Koichi said with a small chuckle. “But that’s why I wanted to take this drive with you.”
Naoto exhaled, struggling to steady his emotions.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because if I did, you’d quit your job and stay by my side.”
Koichi’s answer was simple.
And Naoto had no reply.
The rest of the day, they retraced old memories—driving along the same seaside roads they had once traveled as a family.
At sunset, they stopped by the shore, where the golden light stretched over the waves.
“You used to collect seashells here for your mother.”
Koichi’s voice was light.
Naoto swallowed hard.
“Yeah. She always looked happy when I gave them to her.”
“She was. And you… You were always a kind kid.”
As they watched the horizon, Naoto imagined his mother standing there, smiling at them through the colors of the setting sun.
“Dad… Did I ever do enough for you?”
Koichi smiled, patting his son’s shoulder.
“Just being here, living your life, that’s enough for me.”
The rhythmic sound of the waves tightened something deep in Naoto’s chest.
On the way home, he broke the silence.
“Let’s take this drive again, Dad.”
Koichi glanced at him, surprised, before nodding with a gentle smile.
“Yeah… Let’s do that.”
Naoto pressed the accelerator lightly, the car rolling forward.
This wasn’t the last drive.
Or at least, he wanted to believe that.
Somewhere beyond the long, endless road ahead, their journey still continued.
