The gentle spring sunlight bathed the hilltop in warmth.
Birdsong melted into the breeze, and wildflowers swayed quietly.
The sky stretched out in a clear, endless blue that felt somehow nostalgic.
“Grandpa, we’re almost there.”
Nanase tightly held her grandfather’s hand as they slowly made their way up the hill.
Shoichi, her grandfather, was ill and could no longer walk far.
But still, he had insisted on coming here—just once more.
This was the hill they had visited countless times when she was a child.
At last, they reached the summit.
Shoichi closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“…Yes, it really is a beautiful place.”
“Yeah, the breeze feels so nice.”
Nanase spread out a blanket and helped him sit down.
Then she pulled out some homemade sandwiches.
“I made these just like Grandma taught me.
Egg sandwiches—can you eat them?”
He nodded with a smile and took a bite.
“Mmm… delicious. Brings back memories.”
For a while, they said nothing, just sitting together and letting the wind and light flow around them.
Nanase held tightly to her memories of their time together—of all the moments they had shared—and felt emotions she couldn’t quite put into words.
“Nanase,”
her grandfather said softly, breaking the silence.
“The most important things in life… can’t be seen or held.”
“…What do you mean?”
“This view, this breeze, this time we’re sharing now—
you can’t hold on to them with your hands.
But they’ll stay with you, right here.”
He tapped his chest gently.
Nanase looked at his face.
In his calm expression, she thought she saw a quiet resolve.
“…Grandpa, let’s come here again.”
She started to say—but her voice caught.
He smiled gently, and slowly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.
It was white, softened and slightly faded with age—
the one he’d carried for as long as she could remember.
“Keep this with you.”
Nanase blinked, surprised, as he placed it in her hands.
“But… this is your special handkerchief…”
“I know.
But now I want you to have it.
If you keep it close, you’ll always remember me, won’t you?”
Tears welled in Nanase’s eyes.
On the walk back, she gripped his hand tightly, a vow forming in her heart.
From now on, she would live with these memories.
Even if they couldn’t be seen or touched, she would cherish them—always, in her heart.
The wind brushed gently over their shoulders.
The spring sun wrapped them both in its quiet warmth.
