"Ittekimasu" doesn't mean goodbye in Japanese.
If anything, it means the opposite.
The word is made of two verbs: "itte" (go) and "kimasu" (come).
So when a Japanese person says it on the way out the door, they're not saying farewell.
They're saying "I'm going, and I'll be back."
The reply, "itterasshai," works the same way.
It means "go, and come back."
Two short promises.
One leaving, one waiting.
People don't think about this every morning, of course.
It's just something you say.
But the structure is still there, baked into the word.
Every ittekimasu has a small promise inside it: I'll be back.
Every itterasshai has a small request: please come back.
English doesn't really have an equivalent.
"See you later" is the closest, but it doesn't promise anything.
It just hopes.
So every morning in Japan, in millions of homes, people exchange tiny contracts before walking out the door.
One person leaves.
Another waits.
And both expect to meet again at the end of the day.
It's not really a goodbye.
It's a small, daily promise that today won't be the last time.