The Story Of Us (Todobaku)

Regret

As Enji closed in on Shouto, Rei intercepted them. She crossed her arms and glared at her ex-husband.

"I don't think so," she said. She didn't raise her voice, but her words carried a venomous tone. "Enji, you cannot just show up here after all this time and try to waltz back into your son's life like nothing happened. I don't care if this is Touya's memorial, I am not afraid to make a scene."

Shouto celebrated in his head. Of all the moms in the world, he got a pretty cool one.

Enji kept calm. "I understand that. But there's a lot I want to say to Shouto. Stuff that he shouldn't have to hear over the phone."

"Don't even try to suggest you know what's best for him," Rei countered. "You don't know the first thing about being a good parent. When's the last time you wished Shouto a happy birthday? Or went to one of his art shows? Do you know the kind of music he listens to? His favorite shows?" Her composure was dwindling, her voice starting to crack. "You don't know the first thing about our son because you chose not to know him."

"Mom," Shouto cut in. "It's fine."

Rei turned around, her face relaxing when her gazes met. She stepped closer and ran a loving hand through Shouto's hair. "Sweetie, you don't have to talk to him if you don't want to. You don't owe him anything."

Shouto stood up. "I know," he mumbled. "But there's some things I want to say, too."

Rei glanced at Enji before directing her attention to Shouto once again. "All right," she said. "But I don't want you two going off anywhere. You're going to have your discussion right here while I help clean up."

She left to assist Natsuo with taking down Shouto's drawings by the entrance. Shouto and Enji, now alone, allowed a more than uncomfortable silence to pass for several seconds. Shouto already regretted agreeing to this.

He awkwardly gestured to the abandoned table beside him. "Let's sit down."

They do. Enji's cane rested against the empty chair to his right. Shouto fidgeted with his hands under the table as he stared ahead. He couldn't make eye contact with his father right now.

Enji spoke first. "Shouto," he said, "I'm sorry. For everything."

Shouto shrugged as he bounced his leg. "It's fine," he lied.

"No it's not. I've caused a lot of damage. To you, your mother, your siblings. I destroyed this family due to my own selfishness. You guys didn't deserve that, and I know sorry isn't enough, but I do regret the way that I handled things."

Shouto flared his nostrils. To think that he used to dream about this, Enji admitting his faults. But now, hearing those words, Shouto felt nothing. Enji was right, sorry was most definitely not enough. Especially because the one person Enji should be saying sorry to above anyone else was buried six feet underground. No amount of apologies could ever reverse that.

When Shouto didn't respond, Enji continued. "I know you don't remember. You were only a baby when I injured my knee. But things weren't always bad. Your mom and I, we used to be happy. We all were."

Though he didn't show it on the outside, Shouto's interest was piqued at Enji mentioning his knee. For all of Shouto's childhood, it was drilled into his brain to never mention Enji's career ending injury. It was a sensitive topic, and for good reason. No point in angering an already hotheaded individual about how his professional baseball career ended before he could cement himself as one of the all time greats.

"Then when I got hurt," Enji said, "I felt lost. Baseball was my life. Growing up, it was the only thing I cared about. I was determined to make it into the big leagues even if it killed me."