What Otsuki said about my father worried me, and at the same time, puzzled me. I always assumed my father would never leave all that seriousness behind.
Even at her funeral, he was much more animated than one would expect. It was a stark contrast to how he was now.
Haruka stood next to my father, not knowing exactly what to do. My father was leaning toward the table, resting his right elbow on the table, and his forehead on the hand of his right arm.
Haruka's cell phone was on the table, away from both of them, but especially from my father.
Hearing the door open, Haruka looked in my direction. Not knowing what to do, she stood up from her seat to address me.
She approached me, and in a slightly low voice, she spoke, "…I'm going to give you some time with your father. I've tried to calm him down, but I haven't been able to do anything. Do him a favor and stay by his side for a while."
In a kind, though uncertain, tone, she told me what to do, while holding my shoulder lightly.
I still couldn't look at her face, at her eyes, I was forced to look at her neck.
After saying that, she took her hand off my shoulder, and said a few words before walking out of the room.
" And, also… I'm so sorry for what Otsuki did. I'm going to scold her right now. What she did was…"
He couldn't finish the sentence properly. His voice turned angry and embarrassed, letting out his most sincere emotion one last time.
"I'm really sorry. Riku, if you ever need anything, just ask me, okay?"
When she said my name, she resumed her kind and empathetic touch, almost as if she were a mother, a mother speaking to her child.
"...You don't have to tell Otsuki anything…"
For a moment, Haruka was surprised by what I said, though she barely let on. Her regret and regret changed to a gentler tone.
"…You're a good person, Riku."
After that, I heard his footsteps leaving the living room, and the door closed.
My father was still leaning on the table. Apparently, he didn't hear anything about the conversation, since he didn't even turn around to see who had entered.
I sat down next to him, where Haruka had been sitting before. He was still unsure, and I didn't think I could do anything to calm him down. I know what he saw, but I don't want to remember it.
I just know it's a bad thing, because all that's left of it is the feeling. The anxiety, the anguish, the stress, the grief, everything.
"Dad…" I tried to get those words out as quickly as possible, so as not to have time to create more doubts.
He heard my voice and looked to his right, where I was sitting. He was looking into my eyes, but I was looking at his chest.
"Riku…" Her voice sounded broken, and she was surprised to see me. At the same time, it seemed as if something clicked in her head, as if she had realized something that had been with her since that day.
"I…" He continued speaking, or at least, trying to. Now, with a clear mind, his tone was sadder, his expression worried and regretful.
Without giving me time to say anything comforting, without giving me time to give my best, he hugged me.
Surprised, I looked at my father, or at least at the back of his head, confused. 'What do I do now?' I thought. 'What am I supposed to-?'
"I… I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't… have spoken to you like that. I should have had more free time. Sorry, forgive me, Riku… I, I should have paid more attention to you… I never, ever should have gotten so angry."
My father was crying.
"That… is not the father I want to be…"
More than a fixed feeling, a sea of emotions were reflected in his voice, and not just those related to me. He didn't lose his adult, deep tone, but that didn't take away the pain from his lament.
"I didn't think about it… I was so distracted by what had happened that I didn't think about who called the ambulance. I should have stayed with you longer… With both of you."
I could hear her pain, I could feel her pain, I fully understood that pain, and I had experienced that pain firsthand.
"I thought that by working... by earning more and more money... I could make you happy. By buying you whatever you wanted... by giving you a future... I wanted to believe that all that effort would amount to something…"
She kept crying, subtly, but she was crying. She was crying, and yet…
"But I should have spent more time with you… Maybe that way… that way… I could have realized it sooner. That way… I wouldn't have done it…"
…I couldn't cry next to him. I felt nothing. I understood his sadness, but I couldn't share it. And, deep down…
"I'm… a horrible father, aren't I?"
…I didn't want to forgive him.
"…It's not your fault, Dad. No one's to blame." I said what was most appropriate at the moment, not what I thought. I also deigned to hug him back.
No one said another word on the matter, my father remained crying, quietly and quietly, while I hugged him.
After a while, he calmed down, and I stopped hugging him long before that.
I thought you'd want a glass of water, especially after crying so much. I was thirsty too, my mouth was dry.
I got up from my seat to go to the kitchen. Since this is a house similar to mine, the kitchen should be across from the living room, next to the bathroom.
When I walked out the door, neither Otsuki nor Haruka were there. They were probably upstairs. I think I heard their voices, but I couldn't understand what they were saying.
When I got to the kitchen, I started searching through the cabinets, looking for where the glasses were. I managed to find them in the fourth cabinet I opened.
I grabbed two glasses, then went to the fridge to get a jug of water. All of this reminded me that I haven't had a drink of water since I filled that glass, and yet, I'm barely thirsty.
I walked back into the living room, placed both glasses on the table, one in front of my father and the other in front of my seat, and filled both with water.
"Thank you," my father said, a little softly. He must be tired after all that.
I sat next to him and drank water. It was a somewhat awkward situation for me. He was the one who broke the ice.
"So, Riku, are you coming with us to school? Only Haruka and I have been called. Before, I thought you had to go with me anyway, but now you can do whatever you want. I'll walk you home if you want to go."
Once again, I was given the opportunity to choose. For my part, I wanted to go home, but even though he was the one who offered it to me, I'm afraid of what he might say if I don't go.
"I'll go. The director will have to tell me something."
My father didn't say anything, just looked at me for a moment and smiled. I guess that's what he wanted to hear, after all.
In the end, rather than giving me a choice, he's just proving to himself which option he prefers. I'm sure that if I had chosen to go home, I would have insisted on going with him.
I know the best option right now is to stay home, especially knowing they're coming too. I don't feel the same as before; I'm still feeling unwell, but I can feel myself slowly getting used to being in front of them.
Is it good that I'm getting used to it? Is it good that her mother forgave me so easily? She should have at least scolded me.
It's not fair that she's the only one apologizing, but even though I think that, I still haven't apologized, by my own choice, more than anything.
Whenever I have to choose, I make the worst possible decision. Do I train for that? Some might say it's bad luck, but maybe I do it on purpose. I don't even know what I'm after.
My father stood up from his seat after taking a moment to calm down, and I guess, accept everything he has seen, and what has happened.
I doubt he'll ever get over it. Knowing him, at some point he'll fully accept it, and while he'll never forget it, he'll stop looking back. At least, that's what I want to believe.
"So, are we going to school?" he said, his voice regaining that strong, serious quality, with a slight air of kindness behind it.
I nodded. I took a deep breath, a desperate attempt at normal posture, but I felt a little better compared to when I arrived, and I stood up.