The hospital corridor gleamed under white lights.
Footsteps echoed softly. Announcements drifted faintly over the speakers.
Kasumi Hoshino, now thirty years old, walked steadily through the hall.
Her white doctor's coat swayed behind her. The faint smell of surgical gloves lingered on her hands.
There were tired lines beneath her eyes, but her expression carried strength—calm, composed, unwavering.
The operating room doors opened. A nurse smiled at her.
"Doctor Hoshino, the surgery was a success. The patient is stable."
Kasumi pulled down her mask. Relief softened her features into a quiet smile.
"Good. Inform the family. They'll be at peace now."
She exhaled slowly, shoulders easing, and continued down the corridor.
The camera of memory seemed to follow her steps—the girl who once trembled, cried, clung to someone… now walked forward with certainty.
Inside her aura was the strength of all those broken nights, all those promises she carried alone.
---
Evening.
The hospital garden swayed gently in the breeze. The sky glowed with orange and pink as the sun set.
On a wooden bench sat Takeshi, newspaper folded beside him.
Kasumi approached quietly, two cups of coffee in hand. She sat beside her father, offering him one.
For a moment, they both gazed upward—at the colors spilling across the horizon.
Takeshi glanced at her with a gentle gaze.
"Kasumi… you're thirty now. You should think about marriage. A partner would make life easier."
Kasumi stayed silent at first. Her face was serene, but deep in her eyes, a shadow flickered—an old memory.
Then she smiled, soft and certain.
"Dad… I'm happy with my life. I don't need anything more."
Takeshi studied her expression. That smile wasn't born from emptiness—it carried a quiet strength. He gave a small nod, as if he finally understood his daughter's choice.
"…You're just like your mother," he said softly, almost to himself.
Kasumi tilted her head slightly upward. The sunset light brushed her face, painting her features in a gentle glow.
Her lips curved into a calm smile—no tears, only warmth.
A smile born not of fleeting happiness, but of survival.
Some wounds never vanish. But some promises live forever inside us.
And in her, his memory remained—not as pain, but as strength.
---
The End
With this epilogue story is end.
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