Chapter 138: The Promise
Hiroyuki listened, feeling that this was a matter beyond his influence. He could listen, but he could not offer advice, nor was he in any position to do so.
Such problems were common in human society; the best possible outcome was usually mutual understanding between parents and children after mediation from various parties. Though the past might be filled with regrets, time could not be reversed. What had happened, the personality that had already been shaped, and the childhood that had long since vanished—these had to be accepted as established facts. Beyond mutual understanding, there was little else they could do.
Yet, the father and son before him needed no mediation; they had long ago pushed mutual understanding to its limits.
So, what could he do?
He could only accept the relationship between Taiga and Taro as a given. Changing it was nearly impossible; if one wanted to alter the way they interacted, it was a problem beyond Hiroyuki’s control. It was a delicate balance—one that, while not particularly friendly to either party, was ultimately the result of their distinct personalities and life experiences. Unless Taro and Taiga agreed to change together, nothing would happen.
In any case, Taiga was currently absent, and Hiroyuki refused to admit that he was Taiga. He had no intention of playing the role of Taiga after already playing the role of "Hiroyuki."
Setting aside the issues he could not handle, only one conflict remained to be resolved: the clash between "Taiga wanting to prove his growth through combat" and "Taro not wanting Taiga to be in danger."
Hiroyuki understood Taiga’s perspective perfectly; he even felt for him. After all, he too had once gone through a phase where he wanted to prove himself to his parents. Eventually, as he grew older—after graduating from university and entering the workforce—he realized he didn't need to prove himself to anyone; he just needed to be himself. But that was a realization he only reached in his twenties.
Taiga was still young, and his age and experience limited his perspective. Hiroyuki understood completely why he wanted to prove himself to his father.
As for Taro, his position was equally logical. From their conversation, Hiroyuki had gathered that, in Taro's eyes, Taiga was flawed—his judgment and his combat style were immature.
This immaturity lay in his conduct and his mindset on the battlefield, not in his raw strength.
Taro acknowledged Taiga’s strength; he had at least reached the passing grade for the Inter Galactic Defense Force. That was precisely why Taro felt the need to suppress him; otherwise, he feared that Taiga might rush onto the battlefield, desperate to earn accolades, and recklessly throw his life away.
Well, then came the classic question: how does a child prove to their parents that they have grown enough to stand on their own? In the eyes of some parents, children never truly grow up and will always need guidance. In fact, the very act of wanting to prove one's independence is often seen by such parents as a sign of immaturity.
After a moment of thought, Hiroyuki tentatively said, "Master Taro, I am currently... working under the Captain, even if not as an official member of the Defense Force."
"In this capacity, there isn't much I can do, but I am still trying my best to contribute where I can."
"If, once the matters on Earth come to an end, I—or rather, Taiga—am able to return to the Land of Light..."
"May I ask for a promise from you?"
Ask for a promise?
Taro was momentarily dazed. Had Taiga ever asked him for anything before?
Taro couldn't recall a single instance.
This was such a novel experience for him that he became curious. "What promise do you want from me?"
Seeing an opening, Hiroyuki quickly said, "During the next recruitment assessment for the Inter Galactic Defense Force, please let Taiga try his best on his own merits. As for whether he qualifies or is selected, can we leave that to... leave that to the Captain to evaluate?"
The implication was clear: *Please stop rigging the results for Taiga!* Failing the test time after time, only to be stuck in the reserve team—the child's confidence was being crushed!
As for whether Taiga possessed the right mindset for the battlefield, given that Hiroyuki and Taiga were working right under Captain Zoffy’s watchful eye, the Captain could judge for himself whether Taiga was ready.
Hiroyuki didn't say it outright, but Taro understood. He didn't know how it had been exposed, but it was clear the child had found out. Feeling both guilty and in the wrong, Taro looked a bit sheepish and nodded.
It was as good as an agreement.
Hiroyuki was overjoyed, thinking: *Taiga, I can only help you this much. You’ll have to give it your all during the exam!*
Meanwhile, Taro began to consider how he might tip off his older brother, Zoffy, and ask him to be sure to judge strictly when the time came.
***
As their conversation drew to a close, Hiroyuki and Taro continued walking along the fine sand of the beach. During their idle chatter, Hiroyuki made a new discovery: his memories of "that world" were becoming blurred. His once-complete life experience seemed to have fractured into countless small pieces; aside from a few key life milestones, he could no longer clearly remember the rest.
Except for the Ultraman series.
Because the Captain had made him recall them in detail earlier, Hiroyuki’s memory of these events remained as fresh as ever.
And then, there was the memory of "his" father.
Whenever he thought of this, Hiroyuki suspected that the higher-dimensional world was indeed a dream—a dream crafted from Taiga’s memories.
In that "higher-dimensional world," his father was a junior high school teacher in the small town where he grew up. His father had graduated from that school, gone to a university in a big city, and returned to dedicate himself to education. Naturally, his father left early and returned late, rarely paying much attention to him.
To Hiroyuki, it seemed his father cared far more about his students. Those students adored their teacher and often brought a young Hiroyuki along to play.
Many times, Hiroyuki couldn't help but ask who was actually the father's child. His father would look up from his lesson plans, smiling broadly, his eyes crinkling into slits as he replied, "You both are, both of you."
Hiroyuki would immediately lose his temper.
Eventually, Hiroyuki set his heart on getting into the junior high school where his father worked. He studied hard, but just before he was about to take the entrance exams, his father retired.
Hiroyuki: "..."
He still attended that school, but whenever he went to register, teachers would come up to greet him or whisper and point from afar: "Look, that’s so-and-so’s son."
The elderly principal and the head of guidance would even compare him directly to his father, who had been a student there years ago. They said they looked alike, but his grades weren't quite the same—back in the day, his father had scored perfectly in every subject.
At the time, being scrutinized and compared to his father made Hiroyuki feel both angry and embarrassed. He would hide whenever he saw his father’s acquaintances, terrified of being recognized and lectured. Now that he was older, he didn't feel quite so strongly about it.
However, this experience allowed him to empathize deeply with Taiga when watching the Taiga series.
As they walked, they noticed three figures approaching: the Captain, Riku, and Pega.
Without realizing it, they had walked most of the way around the beach, and the two groups met.
The Captain was the first to see Hiroyuki and Taro and raised a hand in greeting. Pega noticed them as well, but Riku... Riku was completely unresponsive, his mind clearly wandering somewhere else.