Vol. 5 Ch. 7: Ah, Height

When I think of my father, I always remember his back.

Monica's father was a researcher, the sort of person who spent nearly all day facing his desk.

(...Father, Father...)

Wanting him to turn around and look at her, if only for a moment, young Monica reached out toward her father's back... and then lowered her hand.

She knew that her father was doing important work, and she didn't want to disturb him.

But that day, as if he had heard Monica's unspoken thoughts, her father stopped writing and turned around to face her.

His face was covered in beard, and he wore small, round glasses. His eyes behind them were gentle and intelligent. Her father had always been a gentle man.

Her father took the hand Monica had begun to lower and enclosed it in both of his. Delighted, Monica's lips began to twitch.

"......Hehe... Daddy..."

"Hmm, do I really look that much older?"...