As a child, Tomoya had been grateful for the attention, toys, and candy his father bestowed upon him. He hadn't understood that his dad was doing his best, and that when he got drunk and lost his temper, it wasn't because of Tomoya, his anger wasn't directed at his child.
As a teenager, Tomoya hated his dad, or so he told himself. He tried to talk to his father, tried to see into his mind, tried to help, but his father no longer had the capacity to speak of his motives. His father was so run down it was all he could do to go to work. When he wasn't at work or sleeping, he was drunk, and this eventually caused a great injury to Tomoya's shoulder. That was when the little boy in him who still loved and wanted to prove himself to his father, became completely shrouded in darkness.
After the accident, Tomoya refused to acknowledge that man as his father. Eventually he moved out and into his future girlfriend's home. After that, their relationship was non-existent until Tomoya's mother-in-law forced him on a trip that changed his life.
The young boy, turned teenager, turned young adult, turned father had never understood the burden his own father undertook upon his mother's death. He hadn't known the hard decisions, the will to live, or the sacrifice his father had made for him. He hadn't wanted to know even if he'd been given the chance to find out.
His grandmother opened his eyes, after seeing the field of flowers; he knew there was something-someone waiting for him at the end of the road.
Sitting on a bench at the top of the road was a woman.
His grandmother and she wanted him to understand his father, her son.
She was so kind and so frail and he had never gotten to know her, so he couldn't say no.
Thus, he came to understand the burden he'd been on his father, or the burden he now saw himself as. His father hadn't complained, but now he saw the error of his actions. And he wanted nothing more than to make it up to his dad. So when his grandmother told him to tell her son it was time to come home, he was more than willing to oblige.
First though, he had to finish the trip with his daughter. As he waved goodbye and descended the hill, he began to think on what a dreadful son, what a spiteful father he'd been. Why couldn't he have been like his father, why couldn't he have given it his all even when he felt nothing was worth living for? Ushio deserved better from him. Lesson learned, he was determined to do right by her…
Starting with that toy.
He suggested getting a new one, but she was adamant that it had to be that one, because it had been the first toy he had ever given her.
Ushio struggled to say the words without crying, and for that, he lost it; both father and daughter cried in each other's arms, over their losses, but also for their new beginning.
Once their trip was over and they were on the train back home, Tomoya asked Ushio if she wanted to hear about mommy.
Of course, she said yes without hesitation.
He spoke a little about Nagisa, and then began to cry.
She cried with him.
And they grew closer as he spoke of his daughter's mother, of the woman still so deeply engrained into his heart.
Once they made it home, he knew there was an important issue he had to take care of. Stopping by the Furukawa Bakery, he and Ushio dropped off their belongings and then went on their way to Tomoya's father's house.
When they arrived, the place was a mess, and his father looked no better. The man had suffered. Tomoya could see that now. Tomoya asked his father for forgiveness for being so ungrateful, and told him that it was time to go home, that he had accomplished he'd set out to do.
A grateful and exhausted smile lifted the corners of Miyuki's mouth, "ah, so I've done what I meant to do?" he sighed, "ah, I see, I've been done for a long time."
Tomoya wept at the exhaustion in his father's voice.
"Yeah dad, you did everything you could."
With a new found respect and admiration for all that his father had done for him, Tomoya was determined to become at least half as wonderful a father to Ushio. He wasn't sure he was fit for the job, but he was determined to make up for his mistakes, and he was determined to be a daddy that Ushio could love and be proud to have.
Over the next five months, he proved to be a wonderful father. His little tomboy of a daughter started living with him; each day he'd drop her off at school, and in the afternoons, work allowed him to pick her up, take her home then return to work. Their days and nights together were spent making and eating food, stories about her mommy and the delinquent he'd been, and every night as they lay down for sleep, he sung her favorite song. Dango Daikazoku.
After all he'd been through, he was finally grieving and moving on, and he was maturing and becoming a man that his father could be proud of. Everything was going so well.
He'd met Ushio's kindergarten teacher, who turned out to be his old friend Kyou. Together with Kyou, Tomoya told Ushio more stories about her mom and how she'd made her friends.
For the first time in five years, he was happy. And for the first time, he was going to participate on sports day for Ushio. But then, the worst happened. Ushio got sick, really sick. She quickly withered to the point she could not go to the bathroom by herself, she could not dress herself, and she could not even keep water down. Whatever it was that she had, it was what her mother had as well.
For a while he held out hope she would get better. Even Akio and Sanae comforted him with, "Nagisa always pulled through. Ushio will too."
But she did not.
She could not put through.
And when it was time to go, she requested to go on another trip with her daddy and would not relent until he agreed.
Because he too realized (though he could not, would not admit it out loud,) that this was the end of the line for his daughter.
Till her last breath, however, she remained defiant, set in her mind that she would walk by her daddy's side.
They never even made it to the train station, he lied when she asked. Light still filtered through the clouds, but he told her it was night when she asked why it was dark.
With each question, his heart constricted further, causing his voice to strain and his breath to shorten. Each word she spoke cut him deeply, each breath she fought for causing tears to stream down his face.
Then… "Daddy?" she asked weakly.
"Yes sweetheart?" he answered, voice buckling from the emotion.
"I love you." By this time her eyes could no longer stay open her little body gave out before she could hear the last words he would ever speak to her.
Her arm fell limp at her side.
Tomoya screamed; cried for help, his daughter needed help! But there was no one around, no one to help her. They were alone on the snow covered street, and his daughter, his precious Ushio was dead in his arms.
He screamed in anguish, and his heart could no longer take the grief, could not take being left alone once again. He worried for a moment, a rather useless worry at that point, but he worried she had been happy being with him. Had he become the dad she more than deserved to have? His own screams of anguish drowned out any other thought.
The air in his lungs expended, his screams stopped.
Tomoya did not take another breath.
His body fell forward, his torso covering that of his child, both bodies rapidly cooling in the early winters evening.
In the end, his past hadn't mattered, whether or not he had been a good husband or father meant little because when the final moment came, he held his daughter in his arms, cradled her to his chest and stayed with her even after she drew her last breath.
None of it mattered because they were together in the end.