The ending of Tsukuba's Time of Never Meeting.

Not sad, it is an article I like very much.

I chose the ending clip for you.

(Sosuke is their adopted son)

——

Sosuke, would you like to go home with me?

At that moment, he heard his mind buzzing, as if there were all kinds of strange sounds coming together, like those ethereal songs in a dream, which made him unable to distinguish and didn't want to distinguish. Then he nodded.

Fuji stood up with a smile and waved to the distance. Osamu Tezuka agreed.

He looked back and saw a tall and handsome man standing there quietly, with an imperceptible warmth in his cold face. His eyes came through behind the lens and fell on two figures, one large and one small, in the distant sun.

……

Many years later, when I was an adult, I realized that in that afternoon, Osamu Tezuka, my adoptive father's eyes, was deeply gentle and spoiled.

……

In the second year after I left the orphanage, my right leg joint strain was cured by surgery. By that time, my father had withdrawn from the tennis match. He and Fuji opened a small bookstore called Time.

At that time, I often spent a long afternoon in the bookstore, leafing through rows of books, photo albums and picture books on the wooden shelves. The bookstore has blue curtains and wooden tables and chairs. Fuji hangs his own photographs on the wall, one by one, and the thick or light colors make the whole room smart. He and his father occasionally go out for three or two days, and Fuji always looks very excited when he comes back. For half a day, he locked himself in the darkroom behind the bookstore to develop photos, and he was as busy as a bee. Father sat quietly at the wooden desk at the front desk. He will make two cups of fragrant green tea. When Fuji rushed out of the darkroom to show his achievements, he put steaming tea in front of him, and then carefully looked at his photos, one by one, sometimes praising and sometimes commenting, with a low and pertinent tone.

Compared with Fuji, who always smiles gently, my communication with my taciturn father is rare. On holidays, he will take me to exercise and help me recover. After retiring for many years, he still maintains the physique of an athlete, well-proportioned and straight. He loves to wear clothes made of cloth. Simple clothes look calm and restrained on him, and the moonlight is bright. This impression has always remained in my mind and has not faded after many years.

……