The Fourth Period Is Modern Chinese (Continued)

That was why I suddenly remembered.

The displeased voice that had drifted faintly over from the other end of the phone whenever I spent long hours talking to her late at night.

Whenever I walked her home and we lingered at the door, reluctant to part as we chatted, he would always come and go with a sour expression.

The retreating figure who had quickly left the moment we met when I formally paid a visit.

Now, he was merely a good grandfather who doted on his granddaughter beyond measure, but back then, "my daughter's father" had truly been a towering wall blocking my path.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one who had recalled that memory. The Slicked-hair Gentleman beside me couldn't help but laugh too. He and I reflexively looked at each other and gave wry smiles.

"For that gentleman,"

"One of the same."

We spoke in unison, treating the Bearded Gentleman to a drink.

"Ah, thank you very much. I'll gladly accept."

Once the drink was placed before the Bearded Gentleman, we said nothing and silently raised our glasses to clink them together. A toast to comrades who fought on different battlefields but for the same side. Without speaking, we slowly sipped our drinks, until my phone began to vibrate.

When I picked it up, I found a LINE message from my wife. There wasn't a single word—only a photograph. I opened and enlarged it. It showed Yui in an apron, putting a pie into the oven. It seemed she was making dessert today too.

...Would I make it home in time to eat it fresh out of the oven?

As I fidgeted restlessly over that thought, I heard a chair scrape against the floor. Looking beside me, I saw the Bearded Gentleman rising from his seat. He