Uncle Hikigaya is Forever Young [14]

A parental divorce heavily impacts a child.

This was an absolute statement.

The most significant impact was: it made the child feel abandoned.

The younger the child, the clearer and sharper this feeling became.

On the surface, Komachi appeared cheerful and unaffected, but inside, she felt exactly this way.

She always vividly remembered in her dreams the day her mother left home—a rainy day.

On that day, her mother had come home from work like always, and argued with her silently angry father like always.

But that day, instead of slamming the door behind her, Mom had quietly gone upstairs alone, grabbed a random travel bag from the bedroom, and without warning, walked out the door. Standing at the entrance, eyes filled with tears, she had waved at Komachi: “Mommy’s leaving…”

Komachi swore she didn’t feel like laughing back then. Mostly, she thought her mother was pulling a realistic joke, just like the actors in those romantic dramas they always watched together.

By the time the little girl, who didn't understand adult matters, realized Mom was really abandoning her and chased after her, that suddenly unfamiliar figure was already waiting for a car by the roadside, luggage in hand.

Komachi remembered tugging at her mother’s hand, begging her not to leave, asking her: “Mommy, don’t you want me anymore?”

She remembered her mother said nothing, eyes as red as a rabbit’s.

But because of the pouring rain, she couldn’t tell whether her mother was crying.

Mom had gently pushed her away, told her to go back home, turned around, and swiftly walked away.

For some reason, Komachi didn’t chase after her again. She just stood there quietly, letting the rain soak her.

Until Dad came with an umbrella and led her home by the hand…

“Papa, will you abandon Komachi too?”

...

“Komachi, wake up! Quickly wash your face and brush your teeth. Papa has already made breakfast. After you and Hachiman eat, you can go out and have fun. Just eat lunch outside, no need to rush back.”

The next morning, Ryōhei gently shook Komachi awake, softly whispering into the ear of the little girl curled into a ball.

The small, black-haired girl in adorable pajamas struggled to climb out of bed, her ahoge drooping listlessly atop her head. “Uuuh, I was having a dream just now… It's all Papa’s fault for waking me… whew! I'm thirsty.”

Muttering softly, Komachi raised her radish-like slender arm, secretly wiping dry eyes with her sleeve.

“There, there. Come home earlier today and sleep well. School’s almost starting; you need to adjust your biological clock.” Ryōhei gently patted Komachi’s head, handed her a cup of warm water, and then turned toward the tiny kitchen to bring out breakfast.

Early morning, and the family of three was already bustling in the tiny twenty-square-meter apartment, occasionally bumping into each other and having to step aside because of the cramped space.

Though it couldn’t compare to their previous spacious two-story house, Komachi watched her Papa and older brother right beside her, feeling deep satisfaction.

...

After breakfast, Komachi and Hachiman left under Ryōhei’s urging.

From his perspective, these siblings really needed to unwind.

Actually, today he didn't have anything planned either.

Given the family's current financial situation, Ryōhei really didn’t want any rest days—he wished he could work every day at the convenience store—but the manager insisted he take one day off during the weekend.

After the siblings had left, Ryōhei tidied up for a while.

This apartment was already small, yet filled with clutter, cardboard boxes stacked up high in every corner. He'd cleared some of it out days ago, but more than half remained—boxes piled nearly to the ceiling.

Probably all things moved from the previous home.

Mostly daily necessities and clothes; it seemed they'd thrown away plenty of belongings when hurriedly evicted by the bank. In terms of appliances, besides a soy milk maker and rice cooker, there was almost nothing. No television either—ah, but there was a laptop.

“I really need to declutter today. Ah, right… what should I do with this piano? I wonder if there’s a place to resell it.”

The piano stood in a corner, taking up quite a bit of space.

Ryōhei could vividly picture in his mind—“Hikigaya Ryōhei” dragging his children through hardship, being hastily evicted by the bank, forced to discard most furniture and electronics, yet unable to part with his ex-wife’s piano.

“This thing isn’t exactly light… Seems well-maintained, though. I’ll try selling it at a second-hand market this afternoon. Should at least cover two or three months' rent.” Ryōhei uncovered the silk cloth draped over it, lifted the luxurious wooden lid, and pressed a few keys. He held no sentimental attachment to it, and knew nothing about music—keeping it would be pointless.

He took out his phone and carefully snapped a few pictures.

Then, changing into a dirt-resistant tracksuit, Ryōhei started his major cleanup—his own version of "danshari", discarding the unnecessary, the ill-fitting, and the unpleasant, cutting off all lingering attachments.

Hachiman and Komachi’s things had been sorted into separate boxes last night.

All morning, Ryōhei alternated trips between the apartment and the garbage sorting area by the building’s entrance, treating it as exercise.

Throwing things away felt oddly satisfying; each piece tossed out made the apartment brighter and more spacious. His mood also seemed to grow lighter.

Though some awkward moments inevitably occurred—Ryōhei stumbled upon three neatly folded dresses in a large box of clothing: a summery purple knee-length dress, a beige autumn skirt, and a gray winter one-piece dress…

Alright, Ryōhei had already gotten used to “himself” being a hopeless simp… Surely, the previous “Hikigaya Ryōhei” had deliberately taken these from his ex-wife’s closet before leaving their old home, holding onto some stupid nostalgia! Was he that incapable of letting go?!

Irritated, Ryōhei grabbed one of the dresses.

“The fabric's pretty good quality; feels nice too. Probably wasn’t cheap!”

When he lifted it up for inspection, he noticed the price tags were still attached.

They were brand new!

Tsk, tsk, look at this! Dresses you bought for your ex-wife, who didn't even bother wearing them.

“Hiss! Such a wasteful idiot…” Seeing the price tag of 157,108 yen prominently attached to the flowing, elegant purple dress, Ryōhei angrily wanted to slap himself in the face.

He didn’t dare check the other two dresses, afraid he really might slap himself.

Depressed, he carefully folded the dresses again, shoved them back into the box, and kicked it back into the closet.

Throwing them away felt too wasteful—he’d keep them for now.

Maybe he could sell them later.

Knock, knock, knock!

A sudden knock sounded, and a man walked right in, noticing the door hadn’t been fully shut.

“Yo, Ryōhei, doing a big home cleanup, huh? Looks pretty tidy.”

Miura Kōzō—the man who’d visited right after Ryōhei awoke a few days ago and had even loaned him a little money—stepped inside.

---

This is a fan translation of 比企谷大叔永远年轻 by Stargazer All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!