[He can't help saying it again. And maybe it is a prayer. He had prayed for Touya for so many years. In memory of Touya, for his guilt over what he had done, and for Touya to return. Now that Touya is back, it's like an answered prayer, even if it's a cruel one. And as ashamed and miserable as he is because of his actions in the past, Enji can't help but feel a small but undeniable delight at the fact that Touya is alive.
Because he is alive, in spite of what he says on the matter. Touya isn't that child anymore, but he's still Touya. It doesn't matter what state he's in: to Enji, this is still his son.
He stares up at Touya. He makes no move, offensive or defensive. He sits still, looking at his son. There's agony in his expression, but no disgust. Instead, there's an openness, a flicker of vulnerable softness—a mixture of sorrow and something else. He can't school his expression when he looks at Touya. He can only watch him, studying his movements, listening to his laughter.]
I am, somehow.
[If Touya wants to mock him, that's fine. After fighting All For One, he's sure he doesn't look his best, even after the suspect medical treatment he's received here. The loss of his arm was only one of the injuries he'd suffered in battle. He hasn't had much time to rest or recuperate, coming directly from his conflict with the villain.
At the sound of the word father, he clenches his jaw.]
I don't know. I didn't ask to be here.
[He doesn't want to be here. He wants to go back, to continue fighting until the end, although he doesn't know what that end will be.]
no subject
[He can't help saying it again. And maybe it is a prayer. He had prayed for Touya for so many years. In memory of Touya, for his guilt over what he had done, and for Touya to return. Now that Touya is back, it's like an answered prayer, even if it's a cruel one. And as ashamed and miserable as he is because of his actions in the past, Enji can't help but feel a small but undeniable delight at the fact that Touya is alive.
Because he is alive, in spite of what he says on the matter. Touya isn't that child anymore, but he's still Touya. It doesn't matter what state he's in: to Enji, this is still his son.
He stares up at Touya. He makes no move, offensive or defensive. He sits still, looking at his son. There's agony in his expression, but no disgust. Instead, there's an openness, a flicker of vulnerable softness—a mixture of sorrow and something else. He can't school his expression when he looks at Touya. He can only watch him, studying his movements, listening to his laughter.]
I am, somehow.
[If Touya wants to mock him, that's fine. After fighting All For One, he's sure he doesn't look his best, even after the suspect medical treatment he's received here. The loss of his arm was only one of the injuries he'd suffered in battle. He hasn't had much time to rest or recuperate, coming directly from his conflict with the villain.
At the sound of the word father, he clenches his jaw.]
I don't know. I didn't ask to be here.
[He doesn't want to be here. He wants to go back, to continue fighting until the end, although he doesn't know what that end will be.]