Koharu was sprawled on the floor when her mother rolled her blanket over. It was morning, early morning, and it was one of the few times she had scarcely seen while sober. Her mother was dressed in her work clothes, contrasting her daughter who was still in a messy and sweaty pajama.

Wake up, said Koharu's mother. She followed by talking about a visit, then about showering. Koharu did not catch the details, but it was urgent. Quickly, she took a shower downstairs, rinsed her hair with shampoo, peppered herself with cosmetics, and donned the clothes her mother had prepared for her.

Koharu's father had been waiting for Koharu outside their home. His back was against a vehicle as he quietly smoked a cigar to warm himself up. Noticing his wife and daughter, he placed the cigar onto the asphalt and ground it with the heel of his leather shoe. Without missing a beat, he tossed the visible remains of the cigarette into the trash bin.

Shortly after, the group of three rode before sunrise toward a street unfamiliar. The highway they rode through was alien to Koharu. They were moving to the town's center, an area of commercial and institutions, along its main road. Koharu was not curious enough to look around, she was half asleep and half bored.

However, when the car stopped at a driveway for the ICU, Koharu was wide awake.

Her mother took her time to punt Koharu out of the car's seat, slowly bracing herself for the storm as they waited for Koharu's father to come back from parking. She gazed at Koharu with saddened eyes, with pity mixed into them. Not a moment too soon, her father ran toward them in brisk pace, unfittingly fit for a man with a slightly rotund figure.

The three of them checked in on the ICU, before they were given a mention of a room and a number. After the three thanked the receptionist, they went straight upstairs and into one of the wards numbered as such. The nameplate caught Koharu's attention, for it had the Kuroki's name on it.

Entering the room, the three of them were greeted to four figures, three of them surrounding one that was sprawled on a soft hospital bed. All of them were not shocked of their arrival, but they were not hospitable to them either. There were sharp glares reserved for the Minamis that were constantly whittling them mentally.

A boy stood from his seat and approached the three. He was tall, with a striking semblance of Kuroki's eyes. Those eyes were directed at them like hawks, especially directed toward Koharu's own. His voice was gruff, slightly angered, and with a demanding tone.

"What do you want?"

"We're here to visit a girl my daughter assaulted," came a voice from beside Minami. "I, as her father, am very sorry for the action of my daughter."

"That so?" The boy turned around and pointed his thumb at a vacant set of sofas. Yet, his voice did not change. "Take a seat."

As the Minami family was walking toward the sofa, the boy held Koharu by the shoulder. Koharu felt an unbelievable amount of force which pushed against her shoulder and stopped her in her tracks. The boy took a long look at Koharu, who was now scared and trembling, before he raised his hand above him so quickly Koharu had lost the ability to react.

"Tomoki!"

The sudden voice stopped the boy, as it belonged to her mother. If it were anyone else, he would have slammed Koharu against the wall. Quietly, he placed his thoughts in order before moving past Koharu and out of the hospital room.

"Sorry," said the boy as he closed the door. It was loud enough for the Minami family to overhear.

"Please forgive my son," the same woman who yelled bowed at the Minami family. "He has strong attachments with his sister, you see. I hope you can understand his point of view."

Koharu's father sighed, but he nodded nonetheless, as he commented off-handedly about how Koharu would have deserved that one hit to the face. Because his daughter lacked discipline, and that was his rationale.

Kuroki's mother, not missing a beat, invited Koharu closer to her. As she instructed, Koharu sat beside her and their eyes were locked. Her eyes had no anger in them, only sadness, and Koharu felt unnerved to stare at them.

"Let me hear your side of the story, Koharu."

Kuroki's mother placed her hands on Koharu's palms. As she rubbed Koharu's palms, she was glad, for this child knew of guilt. Setting her mind at ease she smiled, before continuing to ask Koharu.

"Would you tell me, please?"

Koharu could not resist the tears forming in her eyes, though she hesitated. How could she not when she was staring at a very kind and motherly face? Slowly, words began to form inside her mouth, and a single sentence escaped from under her breath.

"I'm sorry."

"I understand," Koharu felt two hands pressing against her shoulders. It was unlike Tomoki's arms, for Kuroki's mother's hands felt gentle. "Just say it slowly, okay?"

"Okay."

The words that spilled from Koharu's mouth felt genuine, though there were still hints of immaturity inside them. Kuroki's mother was understanding, silently listening to Koharu as she muttered about the situation surrounding her assault. It was still a silly, teenage drama story, but hearing it from Koharu's mouth gave reassurance to Kuroki's mother. She knew Koharu better, though not fully, but knew her well enough to form her own opinion about her.

"Thank you for that, Koharu." Kuroki's mother stood up and went closer to Koharu, before wrapping her arms and hugging Koharu. "Please tell that to Tomoko later on, okay? When she finally woke up. Here, take a closer look."

Koharu nodded, though she had reserved notions in looking at Tomoko. She had avoided looking at her since she entered the hospital, and only caught a look of her at a glance. If she saw her now, she was scared it would burden her with too much guilt. However, once her mother gave the go ahead, she finally looked at the girl who was resting on the hospital bed.

She was sleeping, with stable breathing, resting with a nasogastric tube inside her nose and an eyepatch covering her eye. She was full of scratches and bruises, from her face to her arms and down to each of her hands. Everything else Koharu could not see was either under her garment, or covered in bandages. It dawned onto her how inhumane her acts were as her thoughts returned to the thoughts of that one phrase Tomoko had muttered before. Whatever justification Koharu had had, no matter what conviction she had believed before, and her belief of a moral high-ground she had imagined before had disappeared in an instant.

As she suddenly clutched onto Tomoko's hand, she felt a weak pulse from it. When she wrapped her fingers to Tomoko's hand, she felt an outburst of saline rolling down her chin and staining the bedsheet. She raised Tomoko's hand close to her face, as she clutched it as gently as she could, and begged for her forgiveness as she muttered the same sentence over and over again as if it was a mantra.

"I'm sorry," cried Koharu. "I'm so, so sorry, Tomoko. Please forgive me."