The next day is nerve-wracking.
Akari sends Dad a text early that morning reminding him she'll see him at eight. It's only then that she tells him it's something more than a regular meeting. She says that they have something important to discuss… something to do with Aguri.
She considers giving him more info, but ultimately decides against it. She talks it over with Aguri, only to realize that if they tell him that she's alive over text he might not come home at all . He might not believe them. Whatever happens next: it has to happen in person. They just want him to be prepared first— know it's something intense.
Dad seems confused, but agrees that he's willing to chat. He attempts to fish for more details, but Akari doesn't let him: simply says that he'll see when he gets there.
"Just… be prepared for whatever's going to come up, okay?"
Aguri stands by her side the whole time. Awkwardly looking down at her hands, she's well aware that it'll be her talking with her dad soon… and despite her best efforts, butterflies flit through her stomach.
'There's no putting it off any longer,' she supposes. 'Whatever happens next… it was always going to.'
The time leading up to his arrival is sluggish and dreary. She wakes up at 9AM and knows he'll arrive at 8. That's a whole lot of time to waste. A whole lot to think about before he returns that night.
She briefly ponders putting on her human disguise. She's certainly got the time for it. But the more she thinks about it, the more unright it feels. Her dad... deserves to see the full scope of the damage, and even if she does hide gnarled veins… dark sclera and flesh, it's not like he'll be coming home to the daughter he remembers. He thinks she's dead, and no matter how she tries to cover it up, the truth is she has changed.
(She… can only hope he'll be alright with that.)
Korosensei still doesn't come back. True to his word, he continues to keep an eye on Nagisa. He admits that he thinks things have cooled over by this point, but that he'd rather be safe than sorry. And besides… he wouldn't want to intrude on their family moment.
Aguri almost wishes he were here. It's true- it'd be a bit awkward with him around, but at least he's her believer. With him around she feels like she can do anything. And without him…
(Well, she feels lost.)
But she knows this is recompense for her own actions. She made a mistake, and Nagisa will not be the one to pay for that. If that means she's alone right now, then so be it. Something tells her she should probably be facing this by herself, anyways.
(Korosensei's backed her up through a lot: almost everything. But she's got to learn to fight on her own, doesn't she? And this… is her chance.)
He texts her and says that he's excited to meet her dad once all of this dies down. But until then, he'll simply be wishing her good luck. He knows that she's got this.
Aguri wishes she could have the same certainty.
Around six, Itona holes up in his room. He says that he doesn't want to be caught when her dad comes home, and that he'd much rather have her explain things first. He says he hopes that's not an issue.
"Of course not," Aguri replies. "Don't worry. I'll make sure to tell him everything. And like I told you last night: you'll be allowed to stay. I promise."
He hesitates, but gives her a firm nod.
"Very well then," he says. "And… good luck."
Which leaves just the sisters. They sit in the living room as the clock ticks from six to six-thirty… six-thirty to seven. Akari looks Aguri's way just a little past then; frowns and asks, "You nervous?"
"Yeah," Aguri admits. "How couldn't I be?"
"That's okay," Akari replies, reaching out to take her hand. "I'm nervous too." Her gaze hardens a bit. "But whatever happens next, I'm here for you. And if things go badly, then that's not your issue to deal with." A pause. "Then screw him."
"I'm… sure that won't happen," Aguri says, but she knows she's just trying to ease Akari's fears.
(Her mind is already long set.)
At 8:18 there's a rapping on the door. Aguri jolts and looks over. Akari takes her by the hand.
"Go into the kitchen," she instructs. "I'll… try and explain first. And when you're ready, you just come out."
Barely even able to believe it, Aguri stumbles to her feet. She allows Akari to lead her into the kitchen, then peeks 'round the corner. There, she hides from the light of the living room— hopes, desperately, she won't be seen from the door.
"Alright," she replies, heart pounding in her ears. "...Alright. Do what you need to."
Akari makes her way over to the door. She unlatches it and allows dad in— allows Aguri's heart to skid to a stop as she hears a much-too-familiar voice.
"I apologize for being a little late," he says. "There was traffic. It's nice to see you again, though. I've missed you a lot."
She's not sure what she expected to feel, but it wasn't this. It's overwhelming, the feeling that overtakes her… all-consuming and primal. Tears well in her eyes. Her breath catches in her throat. She steadies herself on the wall, desperate not to fall down.
...How long has it been since she's heard that? She's been out of the lab for three months now, and she was in it for six. But she hadn't seen him for a while since even before then. Is it true, then? That she really hasn't heard his voice in a year? That feels inscrutable, somehow: like something she can't even comprehend.
She'd expected the fear, and feel afraid, she does. Her breaths quicken and her head starts to spin. But there's something else alongside it… something she'd completely forgotten about. And she's hardly sure how to stand it as a wave of homesickness- nostalgia washes over her.
She… missed this, she realizes as she feels a lump form in her throat. There's a cry caught in her chest. She missed this more than anything. That's her dad in there, and she's so close to losing him.
"Yeah. Yeah," Akari replies, nonchalant. There's a certain lingering aloofness to her tone; discomfort. "I missed you too. But there are… more important things to focus on, alright? So let's get to those."
Dad's quiet for a second: a 'you don't need to be so difficult' resting on his tongue. He must shrug off his frustration, however… as he simply lets out a sigh and places his things on the floor.
"Very well then," he says. "What is it you wanted to talk about? You said it has something to do with your sister?"
"Right," Akari says. "Something… came up about her a few months back."
Another moment of silence. Perhaps Dad shoots her a sympathetic look, or perhaps his expression doesn't shift at all.
"A few months back?" he replies. "I'm surprised you didn't bring it up sooner."
"Well, you haven't exactly made yourself accessible," Akari retorts. "Running away from home and all."
"For the last time, Akari, I didn't run. I'm simply hurting too. I'm sure you understand."
If she does, she doesn't voice it. Akari meets him with icy silence… leaving Dad to fend for himself.
"And my offer still stands," he says. "If you need grief counseling, I'm more than willing to-"
Akari interjects.
"I don't need grief counseling," she says, words almost rehearsed. There's a defensive edge to her tone. "I'm not interested in having you make me forget about her. And besides, I don't need to mourn anymore, anyways. She's alive."
For a split-second there, Dad had almost sounded ready to argue… but his vigor fades at Akari's last comment. Replaced by confusion, he murmurs "What?"
"Aguri's alive," Akari repeats. "I found out in August. Yanagisawa faked her death and-"
"Akari," Dad suddenly says. "This isn't funny. Don't you dare joke about something like that."
"I'm not joking," Akari states, seriousness to her tone. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but I mean it. I would never joke about this . Aguri was more important to me than anyone, and she's alive. She's right in there." A pause. "Right, Aguri?"
Aguri freezes up. She hadn't expected to be addressed so soon. Nevertheless, she speaks up in a meek voice, hoping to ease some of Dad's confusion— that, or simmer down her sister's anger.
"...Right," she says, trying her best just not to let her voice crack.
Another moment of silence. Her words hang in the air, and she swears she hears a soft gasp. Electricity flows through the home.
Any recognition is soon replaced with disbelief, however. And although he mutters "That's…" Dad quickly steels himself. Unimpressed— unready, he asks "What's going on?"
'It's funny,' Aguri thinks. She genuinely can't tell if he's angry or if he's just scared.
"I told you," Akari repeats. "Aguri's alive and she's in that room. However, whatever you see next, I'm going to need you to be kind. If I hear you say even one cruel thing about her, then I'll really never forgive you. She's been through a lot… and a lot of that is your fault. If I had my way you'd never be seeing us again at all. But she wanted to see you and you'd best be thankful. If not, I'll make you regret it. If not…" she drifts off. "Well, you'll be doing the most selfish thing you can possibly do."
She takes a step back.
"Come out, Aguri. He's ready."
...So badly Aguri wants to do as told. She wants to step out into that room and re-embrace the light. But how can she possibly? How can she try after hearing the heartbreak in Dad's tone?
He hates this. He hates every bit of it. He's scared and uncertain and unyielding, and she's going to meet him with this?
Her gaze drifts downwards as her limbs twitch. Muscle writhes beneath the skin. She's suddenly aware of how large she is— how imposing. Crimson veins mar her flesh. She doesn't have hands or feet. She's… she's seriously supposed to step out and feel brave right now?
'No.'
A churning in her stomach. She takes a step back.
'No. Nononono .'
'I can't do it,' she thinks, eyes wide. 'I'm scared—"
She thinks she hears Akari's voice, but it's all but drowned out. Dad is speaking too, now… demanding to know what's going on. Her ears start to ring. Her heart catches in her chest. Another step back, then one more. She presses herself to the wall.
She can't… she can't show him this! What was she thinking!? He's… he's not going to be happy she's alive. He'll wish she was dead!
'I've got to get out of here,' she thinks, wildly looking back and forth. 'I've— I've got to! I can't possibly stay!'
Pure adrenaline. Panic. She looks towards the window— metaphorical hackles raised as her limbs start to lock. She curls in on herself— sputters for breath. Takes a step towards her escape route and then—
A touch. Such a simple and soft thing.
"Hey," Akari says, voice gentle. "Hey. It's okay. You can do this."
Her hand's on her shoulder, though it quickly drifts down to her hands. She rubs circles in her palm… breathes deep.
Aguri's mind does settle for a moment, but it's all too brief. Struggling for breath, she asks "But what if I… what if I make things worse for him? What if he doesn't love me anymore?"
She's close to tears… hunched up and covering her face with her free hand. Akari blinks slow, then frowns.
"Aguri," she says. "...If he doesn't love you now, he never really loved you." She gives a gentle tug on her hand. "Come on. Let's go. I know that you're scared, but… I'm here for you."
"You're here?" Aguri repeats, still hesitating a bit.
"I'm here," Akari reiterates. "And nothing's going to happen to me. So… let's just face this together, alright? Whatever happens, it's best that we just get it over with."
Some part of Aguri still wants to pull back. Lord knows there's an aching in her chest. But driven by Akari's words, she gives a shaky nod steps and forward.
"A… alright. As long as you promise you're here."
"I promise."
They step into the living room together. Never once letting go of Aguri's hand, Akari guides her towards the inevitable. She gives her hand a squeeze, and when she speaks up, it's firm.
"Dad," she says. "Say hi to Aguri. Aguri… say hi to dad."
It takes him a second to even process what he's looking at. But as his gaze starts to focus— recognition starts to dawn, sheer horror forms in his eyes.
"What's…- what's—?"
"Aguri," Akari repeats. "This is Aguri."
Aguri feels naked. Woefully unhidden, she stands in the lamp like it's a spotlight. Dad's eyes seem to stare through her
"...No," he says, panic starting to grip at his tone. "No. Nonono. It— it can't be."
"Yes,"Akari states. "It is."
An unconscious step back. A desperate shake of his head.
"It's not…- there's no way." Dad's voice starts to quake. "I don't know what— I don't know what that thing is, but it's not her! She's… dead!"
Aguri thinks she'd expected the skepticism, but the heartbreak takes her by surprise. Dad isn't just angry with her. He's hurt by her, and that makes her feel sick. There's devastation— true terror to his tone, and she knows he means every word he speaks. It's not just that he doesn't believe her. He so desperately doesn't want to. He doesn't want to think of her as…
(This.)
She takes her own step back. So badly she wants to run. But there's no leaving now, is there? She's already shattered his hopes.
('And so you were right,' she thinks, a sob welling in her throat. 'He truly wishes you were dead.'
...Some part of her wishes that, too.)
Akari doesn't back down. Unfettered by Dad's devastation, she reaches out to put an arm between him and Aguri. When she speaks it's in a low growl.
"No," she says. "She's not. You just thought so." A pause. "...I did too, but she's not."
Dad starts to murmur something— more denials as Aguri's head spins. Akari doesn't let him, though. She creeps in closer— speaks up as soon as the first word leaves his mouth.
"She was alive this whole time, and she was going through the worst thing possible."
Her voice shakes with rage. She looks Dad dead in the eye— voice growing louder as she speaks.
"While we thought she was dead, she had been kidnapped by her fiance— the fiance you sold her to. He did this to her. He hurt her like this. He… he put terrible things in her body and tormented her for months… all while she was all alone and terrified. That's why— that's why she seems different now. It's not her fault. She…-"
She struggles a bit for breath.
"She's lucky to just be alive. It's a miracle I found out at all. And now that she's… that she's alright you're okay with saying something like that to her!? Saying that— that you hate her!? That she's not your daughter!? Screw you!"
"Akari—" Aguri gasps, but it's no use.
Tears welling in her eyes, Akari shouts at their father. Her voice cracks. Her words quiver with rage.
"Screw! You! All she wanted to do was see you again and you treat her like this!? She loved you! She went out of her way to see you one last time! And you…-" her shoulders heave. "You're a monster! But who cares!? We don't need you anyways!"
She whips around;turns to face Aguri.
"If she's not your family, then I'm not, either! She's done more for me than you ever have! We'll— we'll leave! And we'll be fine without you! Right, Aguri?"
She stares up at her with pleading eyes.
"We don't… we don't need him. We'll just get by together. And so don't… don't pay him any mind. I still love you. That's what matters. You're my big sister and I'm always gonna love you." She drifts off- struggles for breath. "...That's what matters, right?"
Aguri can't answer her. Where Akari's reaction had started with outrage: a raised voice and accusatory tone, now it's simply desperate. She hiccups softly— choking on rage… and each tear that streams down her face leaves a new knot of guilt in Aguri's chest.
"I— I should go," she whispers, looking back anxiously. "Y— you're right. I never should have…" she stumbles back. "I was overstepping my boundaries. I didn't mean to make you two fight."
"I'll go," she repeats, fear bleeding through into her words. "I'll go. Just— just please don't fight, okay? I'll go. I'll get out of the way."
She doesn't even know where she's heading. There's nowhere to hide. Itona is holed up in her room, and she's certainly not going to Akari's. She makes her way into the kitchen and teeters to the floor. She buries her knees in the tile… hangs her head and sobs. She covers her face with her hands and wishes, so desperately, that he'd just leave.
(At least then he wouldn't have to hear… hear…- )
Why did she think this was ever going to go well!? She knew he'd hate her! And so why? Why did she reach out to him? Was she trying to get herself punished…? Did she think she deserved it? Or did she just want a hug? Like that was ever going to happen!
He's right. She's not his daughter anymore. She hasn't been for a very long time. She's just…— just some useless freak… some shell of what she used to be. She's not the Aguri her family loved. She's a sham!
And now… her dad hates her. He hates her more than anything. But that's not the only thing that makes her head spin.
'Why? Why?' She thinks desperately. 'Why hasn't Akari just given up yet?'
Her acceptance hurts almost as much as Dad's scorn. How can she say those things about loving her? About being family no matter what? How can she say them when she's this?
Aguri is going to be dead by the end of the year. She's going to be dead and the whole world will be better off. But Akari is still clinging to hope…— saying she treasures her. Why? Doesn't she know she's only going to get burned in the end.
She shouldn't have to be Aguri's end-of-life caregiver— her guardian or greatest fan. She's only fourteen! She has more important things to focus on. And she should be spending her time with her real family: t he family that still has a life left.
She can't believe she made them fight. She knew Akari was mad at dad, but not like that. Are they never going to be able to repair things now? And over her?
(Stupid… ugly… useless- )
They're approaching now, but she can barely even hear them over her crying. Snot dribbles down her face. She sputters for air and she lowers herself to the floor. She lets out a hiccup, then a whine. She thinks there's a wail, too, but she can hardly be sure.
...They're staring at her, defeated.
"Look at what you did," Akari whispers, eyes narrowed as she breaks away from Dad. "Are you content?"
"Of— of course not. I didn't mean to. But there's no way that— it can't possibly be…" his voice cracks a bit as he speaks. "That's not my baby girl, is it?"
Akari doesn't humor him for a second longer. Turning her back to him fully, she says, "I don't know. You tell me. Listen to the way that she cries, and then figure it out for yourself."
She makes her way over to Aguri. Crouching down by her, she places a hand on her pathetic excuse for a shoulder..
"Hey. Hey. It's alright," she whispers, brows knit with worry. "Hey. Don't cry. Forget about him, alright? I'm here now."
So badly, Aguri wants to bury her face in her chest… but even that feels wrong. Akari shouldn't be…- she shouldn't be anywhere around her, much less listening to her break.
"I'm sorry," she hiccups, burying her face further in the floor. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to fight because of me… I'm so sorry!"
"Don't be," Akari replies. "It's not your fault. It's his. He made his decision."
"But can you blame him?" Aguri gasps. "It's not… it's not his fault. He didn't do anything wrong. I'd be scared, too. It was selfish of me to think that…- that…-" she hangs her head. "Of course he wouldn't accept someone like me. I'm ugly and worthless and—" she bowls over, letting out a wail. "I'm sorry!"
Dad still hasn't left. As Akari holds Aguri tight and whispers that everything will be okay, he watches with quiet eyes. At first no expression crosses his face, but as she continues to cry, his lips harrow some. He shakily takes a step forward.
"...That voice," he says. "Why do you have that voice?"
Akari turns her head, but he speaks before she can. Looking about ready to collapse, he says "You'd hardly spoken before. But that voice…-" he bites down on his lip. "How can you say those things the same way she would? Oh… please tell me it's not true."
'Please tell me it's not true,' Aguri thinks, lips pressed. 'Tell me it's not true.' This is really so horrifying… so frightening that he'd rather she die. If she was still in her grave, he'd be content, but to be alive like this?
(…She really is a shame on her family.)
"It's true," Akari says bluntly. "It's true, and it's horrible, and there's nothing you can do to change it. But she's alive, so—"
"No," he says. "No. I don't want to hear it from you. You…" he points a finger out towards Aguri. "Please tell me it's not true. Please say it in something other than that voice… I don't think I could bear it." His hand uncurls. He gives her a woeful look. "...Please tell me you're not my baby girl."
Heart still aching, Aguri whispers "...I wish I could give you the answer that you want, but it's true. All of it is true." She stifles a sob, shaking her head. "I really was hurt like that, completely used... and I really am here. I'm alive and I'm this. I'm sorry if…-" her gaze flickers upward. " I'm just sorry. I never meant to hurt you."
Their gaze meets for about a split second. Anything more than that and Aguri'd feel she was pushing it. She stares up at him with pleading eyes and then backs away. She collapses into the floor.
Somehow, it's enough. Letting out a panicked wail, Dad collapses, too. When he speaks, he's a gibbering mess.
"Those eyes," he hiccups. "Those are your mother's eyes. It's true, isn't it!?"
"It is," Aguri says simply.
Some part of her wants to reach out to him… place a hand on his trembling shoulder and tell him it'll be alright. He looks so small lying there… so afraid, and yet somehow she knows it isn't her place. He doesn't want to see her right now, does he? He doesn't want to hear her voice.
"It's… me," she continues, speaking up in a defeated tone. "...I'm sorry."
For another split second, there's nothing. Dad continues to lie there, quaking with each breath. But as her words continue, something seems to click with him. He sits up slowly, still sobbing as she says that which she's said a thousand times before. And suddenly their eyes meet — this time of his accord as he finally closes the gap.
"No," he gasps, straightening himself up. "No. I am. I'm…— I'm— I'm—" each word is laborious, but there's true feeling to his tone… and suddenly he launches forward.
"I'm sorry!"
He pulls her in close, a crazed desperation to the way he moves. He buries his face in the back of her shoulder— clings tight to her side as he lets out a ragged sob. Tears stream down his face. They trickle down past his shoulder and land on Aguri's arm.
"I'm sorry," he breathes. " I'm sorry. I didn't know. I couldn't have possibly known."
Aguri freezes up. Limbs locking, she stares down at him. Somehow none of this feels real. So badly she wants to return his hug, but still feels like she doesn't deserve it. Still somehow feels like this isn't his fault.
"To think that you've been alive all this time…" he gasps. "And I had no idea. I wouldn't have — I couldn't possibly have done this if I'd known. I thought that…— there's no way I could have envisioned…—" he lets out another sob. "I didn't know he would hurt you!"
Aguri doubts that's completely true. Nevertheless, she consoles him. Blinking back tears, she whispers:
"It's not your fault. You're… you're right. You couldn't have known."
"Shouldn't I have, though!?" He demands, choking on his words. "I'm your father! I should have been able to tell." He drifts off, chest heaving with each cry. "My god! Akari's right! This is my fault. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry."
Aguri's hand drifts up to his shoulder. Wracked with guilt, she begs "No. no— please don't cry. It's not your fault. It's…—"
She can't find the words.
"And the fact that I said all that to you on top of this," Dad blubbers, wiping his face on Aguri's sleeve. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to make you cry. I just couldn't…— I didn't want to conceptualize…-" he hangs his head; weeps. "How shameful is it? That I couldn't even make it out at first? What kind of parent am I?"
"You're…-" not 'bad.' Aguri doesn't want to say 'bad.' Despite her aching heart and quivering hands, she simply doesn't think that. Scared, maybe, but not bad.
"You just made a mistake," she decides on. "No. Not even that. You just didn't want to…- who would be willing to accept that? Of course you didn't believe me. You thought I was dead."
"This is… my fault, really," she continues. "I should have— I should have said something sooner. Of course you thought that—"
"No," Dad begs. "No. Please don't say that. I know why you didn't tell me. You were afraid, weren't you? You were afraid of how I'd react. I made my baby girl so scared—"
"No," Aguri says. "Not scared. I just… I…-" she drifts off. "...Didn't know what you'd think. I thought that maybe…— you wouldn't want me around anymore."
"Never!" Dad chokes. "Never! You're alive and I didn't even know. I can't believe I've done this."
"It's— not your fault," Aguri restates. "It's not your fault. And so… please, don't cry. I don't— I don't want to see you cry. I'm just…— I'm happy to be here at all. I thought I'd never come home."
Dad only seems to cry harder. Whimpering and gasping for breath, he murmurs "...How scared you must have been. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Nothing like this will ever happen again, I promise. You're here now. You're home."
On a base level, Aguri knows that's not true. She knows that nothing will ever be the same. Even so, hearing Dad's words, she feels her heart splinter. 'Home' she thinks, tears welling in her eyes. 'And so that really means—'
"You still love me?" She asks. "...You actually still want me around?"
"Of course," Dad whispers, voice wracked with emotion. "Why wouldn't I? I thought you were lost for so long."
That's all it takes. Inhibitions finally crumbling, Aguri collapses into his arms. Returning his hug, she lets out a heartbroken wail. Catharsis washes over her as she buries her face in his shoulder… nestles deep into his neck.
"Dad," she cries. "Dad! I thought that I'd never see you again!"
She'd hardly even realized just how much it was tormenting her up until now, but she'd completely accepted it… the fact that he'd never accept her. To think that she was wrong— that she's just now finally getting the hug she's craved for so long… it makes her chest cavity collapse. He's seen her, and he's recognized her… and despite all that's changed, he still loves her. She's not sure how long that love will last, but at least it's love at all.
He holds her like she's a little girl… squeezes her tight, like she's so far away from here and nothing is wrong. Suddenly she's not this. She's young and she's free and they're still a family. Mom isn't gone yet, and they're happy.
She knows that's long past now. But this does feel something like it, and as someone who hasn't felt that way in a long time, she'll take these things as they come.
(Take the fact that he can hug her mangled body without fear.)
"I'm happy," she sobs. "I'm so happy. I'm just sorry you had to see me like this— I'm sorry for making you cry."
"Don't be," he replies. "Please don't apologize at all. I'm happy you're here. I would never resent that you're alive. I just hate to think of you suffering like that. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. But your presence remains a miracle. I'm thankful you're alive. To think that my baby girl is right here in my arms— I only hope that you can forgive me."
"Of course," Aguri says. She doesn't even have to think about it. "Of course I can."
...She knows her dad isn't perfect. Maybe she used to think so, but things have changed a lot in the past year. Even so… he's her family, and she loves him. And if he's really sorry…— if 'sorry' can mean she'll hear the words she's craved to hear for so long, then so be it.
All she's ever wanted is to hear, 'I'm proud of you.' 'I love you.' 'I'm thankful you're here.' And maybe it's a little too late to be getting that now, but she's not a picky person. She believes her father. And even if she didn't…—
...She knows someone else is keeping an eye on her.
Akari is watching with a strange expression. It's still clear she doesn't trust Dad, but she's happy for Aguri. She gives him a serious look.
"I might not be so forgiving," she warns. "But if you're really here to support her, I'm not going to stop you. I just expect you to stay true to your word. You love her? Love us? Then prove it. I don't want to see you run away again." A pause. "...I don't want to see you give her up for the 'greater good.'"
Dad looks ready to argue, but knows better just as soon. Bowing his head, he says "Of course."
Perhaps, if Akari were being more petty, he'd have something to say, but he knows this is anything 's truth behind those words, and to debate them would be hurting Aguri again.
"I'll do my very best."
"Good," Akari replies, nodding. "She's only got limited time left, and she was my family more than she was yours. I don't want you wasting that time. If you do, I won't just not forgive you. I'll actually hate you for real."
Aguri frowns a bit. She still doesn't want them fighting, but she's not sure this is actually a fight. Dad doesn't dare argue with Akari's proposition… and when she speaks her words aren't laced with anger— simply resolve.
('She's being protective,' Aguri thinks. 'That's good. That's all.' She couldn't dare scorn Akari for that. She appreciates the support, even if it's prickly like thorns.)
"Thank you, Akari," she states. "...Though I'm sure that won't happen. Right, Dad?"
"Right," Dad says, finally breaking away a bit. He leans back— studies her introspectively. "And so what was that about limited time? You mean to tell me that…-?"
He drifts off.
"This isn't permanent, I'm afraid," Aguri explains, shaking her head. "What was done to me has… placed a timer over my head. My DNA is multiplying at a dangerous rate. If past studies are anything to go by, then eventually that will lead to a fatal chain reaction. I'm… going to explode."
Dad's eyes widen a bit. Almost in disbelief, he asks "Explode?"
"Explode," Aguri confirms, giving a nod. "Like what happened to the moon a few months back. That was a result of the same study. A rat was placed there with transmogrifications, and when it's time ran out…" she gives him a pained look. "Well, that was it."
Dad's eyes flicker back and forth. Putting together the pieces, horror dawns on his face.
"And you're sure that— there's no way to prevent that?"
"As far as we can tell, no," Aguri replies. "My death is inevitable. I'm going to explode no matter what happens. It's just a question of whether or not I take the rest of the world down with me that remains."
Her mouth feels dry. She hadn't realized it at first, but this is the first time she's explained the situation for herself. In the past it's been the others giving her the bad news… Karasuma and Korosensei telling her her time is limited. But now it's her who has to break that to someone. Oh, how unwell that feels.
He hardly even knows. She's told him, and he's barely grasped the truth. She says she has to die, but does he know how? Does he know his baby girl is gonna have to kill herself in an attempt to play hero? Or is he still living in ignorant bliss?
"How… how long do you have?" He asks, barely even able to meet her gaze.
"Three months," Aguri replies. "The estimate is… three months. If I'm not taken care of by then, something horrible will happen."
It's funny. At the start of her time here, six months felt like forever, but now it's already down to three. How is she supposed to do everything she wants to with only three months? She hasn't gotten to make amends. She hasn't rescued Nagisa. She hasn't even healed.
She guesses that… she'd technically have more time if she weren't accounting for his deadline, but how can she not? Even if she loves her life, she doesn't want to live without him. When he goes, she'll go too. She wouldn't have it any other way.
For a split second, Dad looks ready to cry again. Mouthing 'three months,' he stares down at the linoleum. Nothing comes out, however. It seems he's already cried every tear he has.
"I'm sorry again that I didn't tell you sooner," Aguri murmurs. "Then we could have had more time together, but…-"
"No," Dad replies. "Three months is… it's plenty."
A moment of silence.
"Well, obviously it's not," he rectifies. "But… it's something. I'm thankful to have that. It's not enough, you're right. But you're home for now. That's all that matters."
She has a feeling he'll cry a lot more when he's on his own… but for now, in front of her, he stays strong. He reaches out a hand to place it on her shoulder.
"Yeah," She says, wishing she could muster the same strength. She knows there's sorrow to her words… a tiredness that can't be fixed. "I'm home."
She gives a tired smile.
"Though… there's still one more thing we need to discuss before I can truly say I've caught you up. I… have a favor to ask of you now that you're home, Dad… and it's more important to me than almost anything else we've talked about. So please hear me out, alright?"
Dad seems a bit apprehensive, but nods.
"What is it?"
"I've had two other people staying here while you were gone. Now that you've home, it's inevitable you meet them. And so I'm asking you… please, don't kick them out. They don't have anywhere else to go."
Dad's expression shifts. Slightly panicked, he asks, "There've been two other people in the house!?"
"Yes," Aguri replies. "They've been staying in my room."
"Who… who are they?" He asks. "Are they also…" his eyes flit back and forth. He looks straight at Aguri. "...You know?"
"One of them," Aguri says. "There's a student and then there's him. The student ended up homeless after his parents kicked him out… and the other person is like me, yes."
"I… see," Dad murmurs. "And so you're still teaching. That's good to hear. But this other person," a pause. "This other… victim. Who is he? Is he someone you know well?"
Aguri blinks. 'Oh… how to describe Korosensei?' She wonders. Is he a coworker? An 'almost?' A pillar of support?
"Yes," she says. "He's my very best friend. I know him better than anyone." A pause. "He's not here right now, but the student is. I can bring him in. As long as you promise he can stay, that is."
"He… can stay," Dad replies. "I'm still hesitant about this stranger, but I'm not going to kick a child out. Letting him stay is the least I can do after everything." A slightly more serious look. "Bring him in."
Aguri nods. Stumbling to her feet, she makes her way over towards the hallway. She heads towards her room… trying not to pay too much attention to her quivering tentacles or Dad's forlorn gaze. She pops open the door.
"Itona," she says. "You can come out now."
"Is everything alright?" He asks, looking over from his futon. "I heard you crying out there."
"Everything's alright," Aguri replies. "Dad was a little bit scared at first… but he gets it now. And he said you can stay. You don't have anything to worry about."
Itona's expression relaxes. He hurries to his feet before making his way into the other room. There, Dad waits for the two of them… looking genuinely surprised when Itona steps in.
'What?' Aguri thinks, noting his expression. 'Is he surprised he's just legitimately a normal kid?'
"Dad:" she says. "This is Itona. Itona: this is Dad."
"Hey," Itona says awkwardly, reaching out a hand.
"Hello," Dad replies, taking it in his own. He gives his hand a firm shake. "I'm Masahiro Yukimura. I heard you were staying in my house?"
"Yes," Itona confirms. "...Thank you for that."
"It's not me you should be thanking," Dad replies, shooting a look towards Aguri. "Nevertheless, it's great to finally meet you. Stay as long as you need. I'd like to talk more tonight if we could, but I guess it's getting a bit late. Do you kids need sleep?"
Akari opens her mouth to speak, but Aguri beats her to it.
"They should probably sleep, yeah. Tomorrow's a school day. And I'd like a chance to talk to you alone."
Akari's brow furrows a bit.
"Are you sure you're really alright with that?" She asks.
"Yeah," Aguri replies. "I've calmed down now. I'd hate to keep you all up."
"Well… I'll give you alone time if that's what you want. But… can we talk first?"
Aguri blinks.
"Of course we can," she replies, shooting a glance towards Dad. "Do you mind if we step out a second?"
His expression looks dark for just a moment, but he nods.
"Go right ahead," he says. "I'll keep an eye on him in the meantime."
Akari nods… and without another word, she leads Aguri from the kitchen. They make their way up towards her bedroom, where she then plops down. Aguri sits herself next to her.
"What did you want to talk about?" She asks.
"I guess I just… wanted to get a raincheck on how you were feeling before I left you alone. Is everything okay? Do you think that things are… gonna be fine?"
"Well, Dad said he'll let Itona and Korosensei stay, so—"
"No," Akari clarifies. "I'm not asking about that. I'm asking about you. He said some really harsh stuff to you earlier. Are you gonna be alright?"
"Oh," Aguri replies, blinking slowly. "I think so. It was all pretty scary, but he eventually came around." A pause. "...I'm glad he was able to recognize me."
"And so things are just going back to normal now? Like nothing ever happened?"
"Well, I don't know about normal," Aguri murmurs. "But…" she drifts off. "Why? Are you concerned about Dad staying?"
"Not for my own sake," Akari replies with a shrug. "I really couldn't care less. But about you, yeah. If you're… content with what happened in there, then I don't want to take that from you, but before I leave you alone with him, I want to make sure that you're really, truly, okay with that. He failed you in a lot of ways… and most of what I heard from him just now sounded like self-pity. Do you think you can actually move on?"
"I… think so," Aguri says. Even she can't deny the self-pity thing… and there were aspects of what Dad said that'll probably always stick with her, but she does think there was love to it, too. There was sincerity when he hugged her… and whether he 'deserved it' or not, she was relieved to feel that touch.
"You're right that… a lot of things probably aren't alright. But I still love my dad, and you should, too. He didn't wish this on me. And although he made me cry a little bit, yeah… I'm just glad he accepted me at all."
Akari's expression shifts. Looking away a bit, she says "Alright. I'll leave you be, then. Just… be careful, alright? I don't want anything to happen to you again."
She's quiet for a moment.
"And I'm sorry if— I'm sorry if I don't sound happy for you. I am. I just… have trouble trusting him. I hope it doesn't feel like I'm trying to place doubts in your brain."
"It doesn't feel that way at all," Aguri replies. "I'm a grown woman. I can make these decisions for myself. You voicing your opinion… it'll certainly sway me, but it's not going to convince me to do anything I wouldn't do otherwise. I know you're just looking out for me."
"I'm… thankful to have that support," she continues. "Even if I love Dad, it meant a lot earlier to hear you say all that stuff to him. About how… what happened wasn't my fault. How you'd love me no matter what."
"Well, yeah," Akari says. "Of course I would. You're my sister. I care for you."
"And I know you do," Aguri replies. "But sometimes it can be easy to forget. Even knowing that you think those things, I convince myself that's not rational. That you're just… deluding yourself, and that you're gonna get sick of me sooner or later. But when you say that… that you won't leave my side no matter what— well, it's a reminder that that's not true. That I'll have you no matter what happens. And I'm thankful for that."
"I'm glad," Akari says. "I… hate hearing you think bad about yourself, and I hate hearing other people try and make that worse. Of course I'll be there for you. You can know that for a fact."
"I know I can," Aguri says with a soft smile. "...And so I'll be there for you too, alright? Don't… worry about your own feelings on Dad getting in the way of what we have. You said it yourself: you're my family even more than he is, and I'm not going to forget that."
"Good," Akari says with a nod. For a split second she looks ready to cry, but she soon shakes it off. "...Good." Her voice cracks a bit. "That's all I could ever ask for."
Aguri reaches out to ruffle her hair. Akari doesn't flinch back or hesitate. She leans into Aguri's misshapen palm like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"If that's all you had to talk about I should probably get going," Aguri admits, starting to stand. "But don't you forget that, alright? And I'll be seeing you in the morni-"
"Wait," Akari says. "There's actually one more thing."
Slowly, Aguri sits back down,
"What is it?"
"What you told him about your deadline… do you really think that's true? I thought you had longer than three months… That that was— that was Korosensei's deadline. You should still have nine months at least."
Aguri's heart sinks a bit. Not sure how to explain herself without revealing her plan, she mutters "Ideally. But I doubt things are going to pan out like that. Once Korosensei's gone… he won't be around to protect me anymore. Surely you-know-who and the government will be able to assassinate me soon after.
"Not necessarily," Akari replies. "You'll still have me looking out for you. And Itona. The whole class! Karasuma and Bitch-sensei, too."
"Maybe so," Aguri says. "But even if that were the case I don't want to drag things out too long. I'm a bit of… a weird situation. Who knows when I'll actually detonate? I'd rather die sooner and not risk that than actually put the world in danger."
"And so you're just… going to let them kill you?"
"Now I never said that," Aguri replies. "But three months is my best estimate, yeah. Anything more than that and I'll be pushing my luck."
"Oh," Akari says, looking downtrodden.
"I'm sorry. I'd like to spend more time with you if I could," Aguri says "But I fear this might be all we have."
"In that case…" Akari hesitates. "Can I sit with you just a few minutes longer before you go to join Dad? If we're running out of time, I want to make the most of it before it's too late."
"Of course you can," Aguri replies, fully nestling back down into the bed beside her. "Take as long as you need."
And, as such, they sit there in silence. It's probably more than a few minutes, but that's okay. Aguri doesn't mind. She simply rests next to Akari, running her fingers through her hair as she leans on her, and shuts her eyes deep in thought.
And after what feels like forever, she opens them, before giving Aguri one last quick hug.
"Alright," she says. "You can go now. I think I'm ready to sleep. Thank you for talking to me about everything."
"No," Aguri says, returning her hug. "Thank you . I'll see you in the morning, alright? Rest well."
"I will," Akari says, falling quiet as Aguri stands. "...Love you."
"Love you more," Aguri responds without a second thought. "I hope you have sweet dreams."
And with that, she's gone. She exits Akari's room and makes the trip downstairs. It's nowhere as hard as it used to be— she slithers down the steps without so much as fumbling… and she gives a soft smile as she rejoins her father in the living room.
"The boy went to sleep," he says. "He introduced himself awkwardly, but after that he seemed in a hurry to get going. Not the social type, is he?"
"No. Not particularly," Aguri replies. "Itona is a bit introverted, especially around new people. He probably feels like he owes you and doesn't wanna cross any boundaries."
"Right," Dad says. "...Right. That makes sense. And Akari? Did she settle down well?"
"Yeah," Aguri says. "We talked some stuff over, but after that she seemed all tuckered out. She'll be to bed in no time."
"That's good," Dad replies. "And here I was thinking she'd never stop being mad at me."
He gives a curt laugh, but it's clear he finds it anything but funny. There are bags under his eyes, and his expression is forced,
Aguri shifts awkwardly.
"I'll probably get going to bed soon, too," she admits. "I've got a lot to deal with at school tomorrow. But I thought I may as well sit with you first. It's been a long time since we talked."
She says it in the context of her disappearance, but she knows it's more than that. Even before what went down they hadn't really talked in years.
Dad opens his mouth. She thinks she expects him to say something about school— ask her how it's been, but he must decide against it. He only says "That makes sense," before falling back into quiet. He only briefly looks her way.
Silence is different with him than it was with Akari. Where with Akari, it was comforting… homely, here it's suffocating. She doesn't think he's trying to make her uncomfortable, but she is nevertheless. There's so much for the both of them to say… and yet neither knows where to start.
"I hope you don't mind the mess that the house is in," she murmurs. "We've been trying to keep on top of things, but four people is a lot more than we're used to. We were careful to leave your room alone, though, at least. So you'll have a place to stay. Hope that's not too much of a concern."
"No," Dad replies. "Not at all. I'm only planning to stay here for a few days, anyway. So it's not a big deal."
Aguri's heart skips a beat. Looking over at him, she asks "You're not planning to stay?"
She doesn't get why. It's not like his work is far from here. Even after he'd left he'd stayed in town. He didn't abandon this place because of opportunity or cash. He abandoned it to leave behind the bad memories it carried… and so why?
Could it be that he still feels he's seeing ghosts?
"I'm sorry," she says. "If I'm the reason why . I get why you might not want to stay."
"It's not you," Dad replies, shaking his head. "It's Akari. I think that she… may be better off without me here."
Aguri opens her mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. She remembers the dark look in Akari's eyes, then sighs.
"It's clear she's got some mixed feelings, and I can't entirely blame her," Dad replies. "I don't want her to uproot her whole life just because I'm around. As much as I'd like to stay, I've got to look out for her… and so I'm going to stay on the sidelines. I'll visit, and you're more than free to visit me too, but I think she needs some space."
Aguri frowns, but nods. As much as she hates to admit it, she thinks he's got a point. Akari… doesn't know how to feel about her dad yet. It's better he be eased back into her life slowly than all at once.
"I'm not too worried," Dad continues. "It'll hurt my heart to stay away, of course, but… I know you'll be looking out for her. I'm thankful for that." A pause. He drifts off. "...You seem really happy together."
"Yeah," Aguri admits. "We have been. But you're a part of the family too— don't forget that. I'll look out for her now, but after I'm gone, I want you to promise me something, Dad. Promise me that you'll keep an eye on her… even if it makes you feel a bit bad. I don't want her to be unsupervised entirely. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to her."
"Of course," Dad replies. "Once… the unimaginable has happened, I'll take up the mantle. I'm still hardly sure I'm really— I'm just a foolish old man, but it's the least I can do for you. I'll look out for your sister." A pause. "...For my daughter. I promise."
"Good," Aguri says, letting out a sigh of relief. "...Good."
She's still not entirely sure Akari will be happy with that agreement, but it's better than nothing. She can only hope that Dad, Karasuma, and maybe even Irina looking out for her will be enough to help Akari in the wake of everything. Of course, she still has her doubts, too… especially considering how much Dad's failed her, but she's got a feeling he won't make the same mistakes. Not after where his apathy got him. He's seen what'll happen if he's not careful next time.
Aguri is… thankful to have talked to him. Not just now— in general. She'd been right all along. This had been scary, but it'd been worthwhile, too. She's… got more of an idea where things are going from here on out. She got some closure. And she even thinks she understands a bit more why she still loves her dad, even if he hurt her.
She doesn't feel great about this— not yet. But sitting across from Dad… talking in the dim light, she feels better. And she thinks that discussing it openly like this may just be what ultimately helps her heal.
Not tonight, though. She stumbles to her feet. She's exhausted, and she'd like some rest herself. Plus… she's still got other things to think about: one more beast to deal with tomorrow.
"I think I'm gonna hit the hay," she murmurs. "It's getting a bit late. It was nice talking to you, though. I missed this, really."
"Alright," Dad says. "Go right ahead. I enjoyed this too. And… I'll be seeing you in the morning." A pause. "...As long as this isn't a desperate man's dream."
"It's not," Aguri reassures. "All of this is real. I promise."
She leans in for a hug… buries her face in Dad's shoulder.
"I'll see you tomorrow. So please don't worry at all."
And with that… she's off. She makes her way towards the bedroom. There, Itona is already sleeping inside. He lets out a soft snore as he rolls over on his futon. Aguri stares at him, thoughtful.
She's… glad that Dad was willing to let him stay, she notes as she crawls into her pajamas. She'd really been scared for a second there, but things had turned out for the best.
She'd been able to tell him how she felt- cry, and she hadn't been punished for it. She'd been given catharsis.
She crawls into bed.
Oh, how that's something she wishes that could happen for everyone. But it isn't, is it? Even if she'd like to think so, she's very lucky for what happened to her tonight. Most mistreated kids don't get that opportunity. They don't get a chance to say how they were failed at all, much less get an apology for it.
Some part of her wishes it was Nagisa in her shoes. She'd take her father's scorn if it meant he'd be safe. But his mother's never going to change, at least not within the timeframe she needs to, and that's a damn shame.
'Of course… there's no promise Dad's changed, either,' she thinks, staring up at the ceiling. 'Akari doesn't seem to think so. Does that mean that… it's really an impossibility?'
She doesn't humor even for a second that she thinks Nagisa's mom can change. She'd seen what she needed to see for herself. But her heart aches as she thinks about what Nagisa must be feeling right now. Surely he has hope.
She wonders how she'd have felt if Akari had made this decision for her. Of course there's a difference between her and Nagisa— she's an adult and he is not— but surely she'd have resented her, right? Even if it had been guaranteed this conversation would have gone badly, she wouldn't have traded it for the world. She got the answers she needed. And more importantly, she was able to make this decision for herself.
Lying there, it's not the first time she's had doubts about Reaper's opinion. But if not going nuclear— not dragging him out of there kicking and screaming, then what? She can't let Nagisa stay.
'Of course you can't,' she reiterates. But forcing him to go? That's taking away his autonomy too. He's already had that disrespected again and again. Is she going to drag him into a legal battle? Take him away despite his pleas and leave him wondering 'what if?'
'No.' She thinks. She can't. She won't leave him either, but she can't. Whatever happens next… it's up to Nagisa.
And that means it's her job to convince him, not force him. It's true: he won't find catharsis or closure in any conversation with his mom. But perhaps he can find it with her. She's spent the past week wondering about what she should do, but she's hardly even talked with him. She's told him she was worried, sure… cried on his desk, but what about this? Why doesn't she tell him what she's thinking right now?
She… has to. Before anything else, she has to give it one last try. She's not sure what she'll do if he disagrees… and she's not sure how he'll react to 'it's really so bad I thought about forcing you,' but she's got to try. And if it doesn't work, then she's got to try again. He's not a stupid kid. He knows what's going on… and he's resigned himself to it. Trying to rescue him like a broken baby bird… that won't work. It's him she needs to convince, and while she's still not sure that it'll work, she thinks she knows where to start.
She'll talk to him tomorrow. She'll tell him everything. After a week of being lost, she knows what to do… and she can only pray it'll work.
Because she's not going to be able to rescue Nagisa, and she never was. But Nagisa?
If given some help, he might just be able to rescue himself.
