EIGHT
She presses her face into the softness, shakily breathes in its crisp, clean scent, and wishes with her heart thundering in her chest and her arms squeezing so tightly they hurt—she wants Papa, and Carol, but also, also, also this.
Both. She wants both.
If she wishes on enough stars, if she makes enough paper cranes, if she counts enough sheep… will she get to have both?
Would you like to.. do you… I have received permission.
To visit your…
To visit. Izak.
His current… resting place.
If…
If you'd like.
Her chest hurts. She knows she can't have both. Papa is gone.
Her throat squeezes shut again and her breaths stutter; she presses her face deeper into—into her—into Tsubasa's sweater. The arms around her press her more tightly against solid warmth, tightly enough that her feet lift a little bit from the floor. A hand, Maria's hand, strokes her hair.
Papa is gone.
Papa is ▯▯▯▯.
[***]
She doesn't know how long she's spent crying in this room—this room, the room, the room that, that holds, the room that holds Papa—but eventually, eventually, she can almost hear her thoughts over her heavy breathing. They skitter around the edge of the big hole in her chest, the vortex, trembling and slipping.
It's like, like, like vertigo even though she's not afraid of high places. She keeps her fingers tangled in her, in Maria's soft shirt, and she lets Maria dry her face with the little blue handkerchief. As if reading her mind, Tsubasa's hands come to rest firmly on her shoulders and help keep her steady. Maria remains kneeled on the floor, gently holding Elfnein's hands, waiting, but letting her avoid eye contact.
Her thoughts rally again, more cohesive and coherent as questions: why is Papa here? has Carol been here? has Aunt Finé? where is Aunt Finé?
Then, her stomach growls. She blushes.
"Do you want to eat?" Maria asks.
She wants to say yes, but Papa is here. She can't leave Papa (can't look at him, either—she can't look at the box, the little urn that holds, that, that holds, holds his ▯▯▯▯▯). Her wide eyes meet Maria's.
Maria understands, somehow, and says, "We don't have to go far. There's a cafeteria here."
"And we will return, if you would like," Tsubasa adds above her, squeezing her shoulders.
I want Papa. That's what I want, but Papa… Papa's gone.
"…Okay." She almost lets go when Maria stands up but at the last moment she tightens her grip on Maria's hands; Carol isn't around to make fun of her for it.
The wide, teary smile she gets in return makes her stomach churn. She'd, she'd called this person Mama before Carol had come back. The hand on her shoulder, guiding her through the maze of hallways, belongs to a person she'd called Dad before she had remembered Carol's disdain. They are here, and Papa is not, and Carol has… her own guardians too, now.
She wants them to be her parents, but also…
She wants Papa, and Papa is… ▯▯▯▯.
[***]
"Why… why is Papa… here?"
She clutches the picture of Papa to her chest. Its frame digs into her arms and knees. She couldn't stay standing, so Tsubasa had taken the urn off its shelf and carefully, gently placed it on the floor for her. He—the fire, the fire, the fire—instead of a long box, Papa… rests… in an urn. That's what the vase-like container is called. An urn. An urn (all of Papa, kept in there), and a framed picture. He frowns into the camera, maybe angry, maybe frustrated, but less tired than she ever, ever saw him. When was this picture taken? Where? By who? Why?
Why is this room full of shelves with urns and pictures?
Why is Papa in Japan, not Germany?
"Izak broke many laws in many countries, but he was a Japanese citizen."
Breaking a law is like breaking a rule, but a lot worse. Does that mean—if breaking a rule makes you bad, then does breaking laws make you….
Papa had loved her, loved Carol. Wherever they went, he had helped people. He was smart and respected. Everyone had wanted his advice. Aunt Finé was his friend. But Papa was… worse than bad. Maybe evil.
It's wrong to love evil people, right?
She doesn't want to, but Papa won't ever be able to explain and Aunt Finé isn't here (is Aunt Finé a worse-than-bad person, too? Is she in prison? Is that why she left?), and she needs to know, so she asks, "Was he evil? Do I… do I have to stop loving him?"
"No," says Maria this time. Maria pulls her into a sideways hug, and she buries her face in Maria's collar but doesn't let go of Papa's picture. "He put people in danger. He committed crimes. He was… not good.
"But… he was also your father. He loved you. He took care of you and Carol as best as he could. He wanted you to be good people. Even though he was a bad person, he was a good father. You can always love your father. That is—valid."
Valid.
Her hands hurt. Her head hurts. She decides not to think about Papa's morality right now, because right now the big hole in her chest, the void, is reaching its arms out to drag her back into it. Her thoughts sink back into: gone. Papa is gone. Papa is ▯▯▯▯ .
"Papa's gone."
"Yes," says Tsubasa on her other side. "We are here." This time, Tsubasa strokes her hair while Maria holds her.
"You are not alone, Elfnein."
a/n:
orz. I know it's a short, sad, and maybe disjointed chapter. Thoughts?
