Volume 2 – Chapter 21: Unspoken Truths

[July 5 – 9:15 PM]

As we sat with our families, the weight of all we had gone through loomed large. There was no way around it now; the truth had to be known. It was three months since we’d last seen them — every day since had been yet another layer of survival, struggle, loss that we could not possibly hide anymore.

I glanced at Rika. Her face was unreadable as always, but I could sense the tension between us. She had been silent the entire time we’d been there, answering our parents’ endless questions — questions we had no idea how to answer. The silence felt oppressive and heavy.

Finally, Rika broke. She drew a shaky breath, her hands trembling in her lap. She looked down, as if seeking for some missing object on the table.

"Mom... Dad...” The first sob escaped and her voice cracked. “I don’t know how to put this to you.” The words emerged in a ragged whisper, as if it physically pained her to say them.

I reached out, letting my hand brush against hers, and evoked what small comfort I could.

Her own mother reached forward too, her hands resting lightly on Rika’s shoulders, but she didn’t say anything. She simply stared at her daughter, intensely enough that everything felt like it was that much more real. I could see her facial expression, the concern, the fear. I can't understand how much this hurt her to see her daughter like this.

Rika drew in her breath, and then the dam broke. She hunched over, hiding her face in her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks. “We couldn’t save everyone. We tried so hard...”

Her mother instantly gathered her in her arms, whispering low words I couldn’t make out. But none of them truly mattered. The pain too raw, the loss too fresh.

I was aware of my own chest constricting. It was hard not to feel all that she felt, all the words she couldn’t articulate. My heart ached in turn, but this was Rika’s moment. I couldn't hurry her, couldn't force her.

And then, behind her, her father spoke, his voice thick with emotion. "What happened to you two? We thought we lost you! We were unable to sleep, unable to eat...,” His voice broke for a second, as he tried to keep himself together. “Why didn’t you return sooner?”

I looked away, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I knew we couldn’t tell them all the details. Not yet. Not when they already had so much to bear.

“We weren’t able to return,” I said, my voice husky. "Things got too... dangerous. We had to leave. We couldn’t... stay."

The magnitude of my own words bore down on me. Rika’s mother’s face crumpled at that, her face lined with more questions than I could answer. But I could see Rika’s pain with every look they exchanged, and knew it was gnawing at her like it was gnawing at me.

I extended my hand across the table, grasping Rika’s, and my thumb stroked her skin.

Her mother kept holding her, but now I could see the bewilderment on her face. "Are you hurt? Are you safe?" she said, a sort of quiet desperation in her voice.

“I’m OK, Mom,” Rika got out, her voice trembling, but she gave a weak smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. "I’m okay."

It wasn’t true. She wasn’t okay. Neither of us were.

But I was there. And for now, that was enough.

When it changed gears, I felt like we were running in circles. The words were mixed up, unsaid things adding weight to the room. Rika never stopped holding the hand she held in hers, squeezing it every now and then as if to remind herself that I was still there.

And then, amid the silence, Rika’s voice rang out again, but this time softer, though no less fierce.

“I… I just don’t know how we can ever be the same again, Kaito.”

I watched her closely. So much I wanted to say, yet nothing that could bridge the silence that had grown between us. How could we possibly be the same after everything we had been through?

I don’t think we can,” I whispered back, my voice steady even as tempests roiled within. “But I know we will get through it. Together."

At that, Rika turned to look into my eyes. There was a rawness in her eyes that struck me like a wave. And for a second, I could sense the effort of all we had overcome still suspended in the air between us.

Then, as though the moment had defeated her, Rika’s tears started again, more quietly this time. I didn’t hesitate. I pulled her toward me, wrapping her in my arms, while she wept on my chest.

I didn’t care who was looking at me. I didn’t care what they thought of me.

“We’ll handle it together, Rika,” I whispered, planting a soft kiss in her hair. “We will come through this together.”

She gasped, still on the verge of tears, but when I pulled myself away a little, her gaze was soft, vulnerable and the tears cautiously began to still.

“I know,” she whispered, her voice a thin thread.

I squeezed her tighter, my heart breaking for her, for us both.”

And no matter how much the world around me was crumbling, I would cling to her. We would weather this storm together. No matter what came next.