A Heart To Heart
The air is thick and smokey when Mitsuru enters. When she breathes in it makes the back of her throat burn, her eyes water, and for a moment she can't clearly see the private meeting room. But at least that lungfull tells her that her father has been smoking lately, and more then normal.
"Or more then healthy," She thinks as that tall-backed chair swivels around to face her. Mitsuru manages to exhale without coughing, and gets another breath in without too much trouble. She can't remember the last time he's burned through so many cigars, save the day her mother-
"Mitsuru." He says, and Mitsuru also can't place the last time her father's voice has sounded so tired before.
His eye more then makes up for his voice though. It bores straight into her, and even that patch over his right eye doesn't keep her from tensing up. It doesn't seem to matter that he can only glare out of one.
"Sit, please." His hand motions at a chair off to his left, and that's when it really clicks in Mitsuru's mind that they're alone. There's no uncles, aunts, or any other relatives present at this meeting, and she doesn't know whether that makes her feel more relieved, or less.
Takeharu Kirijo doesn't talk at first, and Mitsuru can't help but wonder if he's trying to wait her out, to see if she'll offer an explanation before he needs to start asking questions. The one problem with that strategy is that Mitsuru hasn't settled on a good explanation yet. Telling her father that there's an dimension spanning portal in the dorm's storage closet, and that it brought about alien abductions, doesn't seem like the best thing to tell him right off the cuff.
But as the silence stretches out, it does become harder for Mitsuru to not say something to break it, to explain her actions. And her father knows that all too well. In the end, she finally cracks a little, enough so that two words come out.
"...I'm sorry." Her voice is quiet, but that sentence, and his eye still looking straight at her, opens up the way for others. "It wasn't my intent to vanish so suddenly, or for so long." Mitsuru watches as he pulls out another cigar, and lights it. It's only once he breathes out a fresh cloud of smoke that he speaks.
"You apparently were in a place where we couldn't contact you by phone." Something about the way he says it makes it clear that she's supposed to respond, even though it wasn't presented as a question.
"...No, it couldn't reach me there." Mitsuru admits, as her father takes another drag on his cigar. Followed by another breath of smoke, and Mitsuru has to blink to keep her eyes from watering. Despite that, and the scratchy feeling in her smoke, it doesn't make her a tense mess like the stuff from her grandfather's pipe used to.
"Neither were you anywhere that a contact from our family, or the Group could find you." This time, she just nods.
"Yet when you arrived back from wherever you disappeared to, you went back to classes without any hesitation." Mitsuru is tempted to point out that she also went on to score as the highest in her class, and even a few points above her previous record. But that goes unsaid.
"Which leaves me at a loss on what happened to you, as well as where you might have vanished." The way he says that, and given that he puts his cigar down in the ashtray to fully focus on Mitsuru, is a clear sign that she's supposed to start explaining herself now.
A shame she still hasn't latched onto a way on how to do that yet. That look her father is giving her doesn't help either. As stern as his face is, she's starting to recognize the telltale signs; the way his fingers are curled into almost-fists, how his shoulders are stiffer then usual, and that strange, watery glimmer behind his eye. He's worried about her, and wants to find out how to prevent her from causing that again.
"Father, I..." Don't want him to get involved with the Nexus, if she can. It's a chaotic enough place without him knowing about it, and she'd sooner not have him dealing with any of that chaos.
...Or allowing any of the less scrupulous members of her family to know about it. Grandfather didn't take all the corruption, or nihilism with him to the grave. She'd sooner not hand over a PINpoint to some of the Ergo scientists, if she can.
Mitsuru looks down at her hands, not comfortable with meeting his sight any longer. Maybe because the last reason she has for not wanting to talk about what happened is that, even with the strange brand of chaos the multiverse brings with it...It also doesn't come with the weight of the Kirijo name, and she leaves behind all the judgments and supervision of the Group when she steps into it, or uses the PINpoint. And when she thinks that, the words come to her mind and tongue on their own.
"The truth of the matter is, I couldn't contact you where I was." Her eyes slowly slide away from her father's. With what she's about to say, she can't even look at the missing spot where his right eye used to be.
"I...We had difficulties while exploring Tartarus." Suddenly, she's very glad that they were never able to figure out why the transmission between her and Takeba shorted out that one time.
"We were caught in one of the floors, you see, and..." She shouldn't be staking her father's trust on some fact that hasn't even been proven yet, but it's better then the truth right now. The lie is also coming surprisingly easy, as long as she looks at something other then her father.
For now, she settles for the table between them. It's solid oak, and it takes the equivalent of a fork lift to even budge it. All the same, Mitsuru wishes there was a bit more between them; even seated behind it, she feels exposed and awkward.
"We remained there when the Dark Hour ended. Only Arisato was able to escape before then, and we had to devout the few hours in which Tartarus manifested with finding our way back out." Instead of looking at her father when she's done, Mitsuru focuses on keeping every nerve in her face and muscle in her body relaxed; no tenseness, no sign that she's given him anything other then the full truth.
Mitsuru has to use that same amount of discipline to keep her breath from rushing out in a sigh when she hears her father speak.
"That would explain why you managed to completely drop off the Kirijo Group's radar." His fingers unclench a little, but only by a few hairs. And he looks like he's about to object to something -maybe just that they're taking too many risks inside Tartarus- so Mitsuru rushes to fill the silence without any prompting.
"We know better now, and can take steps to avoid having such a thing happen again." Which is at least partially the truth; they did learn a lot about the Strangers, and she's certain they can dodge something like that if it ever happens again.
"And...I think it's an acceptable risk to continue as planned." And Mitsuru can say that with complete certainty. "If it finds a way to eliminate all the mistakes, isn't it worth anything else?" When her father's hands clench back up, Mitsuru loses any other words she might have used, and is left with waiting for what he has to say, once again.
"...You may go now." It isn't an answer to her question, but is is an order. Mitsuru bows her head in response, and slowly stands. He doesn't say anything as she walks towards the door, but once her fingers touch the handle, Mitsuru hears his voice again.
"...Mitsuru." And that weary, tired tone is back again. "You will be careful, I hope."
"...Yes. Father." That is at least one question she can answer honestly.
"Or more then healthy," She thinks as that tall-backed chair swivels around to face her. Mitsuru manages to exhale without coughing, and gets another breath in without too much trouble. She can't remember the last time he's burned through so many cigars, save the day her mother-
"Mitsuru." He says, and Mitsuru also can't place the last time her father's voice has sounded so tired before.
His eye more then makes up for his voice though. It bores straight into her, and even that patch over his right eye doesn't keep her from tensing up. It doesn't seem to matter that he can only glare out of one.
"Sit, please." His hand motions at a chair off to his left, and that's when it really clicks in Mitsuru's mind that they're alone. There's no uncles, aunts, or any other relatives present at this meeting, and she doesn't know whether that makes her feel more relieved, or less.
Takeharu Kirijo doesn't talk at first, and Mitsuru can't help but wonder if he's trying to wait her out, to see if she'll offer an explanation before he needs to start asking questions. The one problem with that strategy is that Mitsuru hasn't settled on a good explanation yet. Telling her father that there's an dimension spanning portal in the dorm's storage closet, and that it brought about alien abductions, doesn't seem like the best thing to tell him right off the cuff.
But as the silence stretches out, it does become harder for Mitsuru to not say something to break it, to explain her actions. And her father knows that all too well. In the end, she finally cracks a little, enough so that two words come out.
"...I'm sorry." Her voice is quiet, but that sentence, and his eye still looking straight at her, opens up the way for others. "It wasn't my intent to vanish so suddenly, or for so long." Mitsuru watches as he pulls out another cigar, and lights it. It's only once he breathes out a fresh cloud of smoke that he speaks.
"You apparently were in a place where we couldn't contact you by phone." Something about the way he says it makes it clear that she's supposed to respond, even though it wasn't presented as a question.
"...No, it couldn't reach me there." Mitsuru admits, as her father takes another drag on his cigar. Followed by another breath of smoke, and Mitsuru has to blink to keep her eyes from watering. Despite that, and the scratchy feeling in her smoke, it doesn't make her a tense mess like the stuff from her grandfather's pipe used to.
"Neither were you anywhere that a contact from our family, or the Group could find you." This time, she just nods.
"Yet when you arrived back from wherever you disappeared to, you went back to classes without any hesitation." Mitsuru is tempted to point out that she also went on to score as the highest in her class, and even a few points above her previous record. But that goes unsaid.
"Which leaves me at a loss on what happened to you, as well as where you might have vanished." The way he says that, and given that he puts his cigar down in the ashtray to fully focus on Mitsuru, is a clear sign that she's supposed to start explaining herself now.
A shame she still hasn't latched onto a way on how to do that yet. That look her father is giving her doesn't help either. As stern as his face is, she's starting to recognize the telltale signs; the way his fingers are curled into almost-fists, how his shoulders are stiffer then usual, and that strange, watery glimmer behind his eye. He's worried about her, and wants to find out how to prevent her from causing that again.
"Father, I..." Don't want him to get involved with the Nexus, if she can. It's a chaotic enough place without him knowing about it, and she'd sooner not have him dealing with any of that chaos.
...Or allowing any of the less scrupulous members of her family to know about it. Grandfather didn't take all the corruption, or nihilism with him to the grave. She'd sooner not hand over a PINpoint to some of the Ergo scientists, if she can.
Mitsuru looks down at her hands, not comfortable with meeting his sight any longer. Maybe because the last reason she has for not wanting to talk about what happened is that, even with the strange brand of chaos the multiverse brings with it...It also doesn't come with the weight of the Kirijo name, and she leaves behind all the judgments and supervision of the Group when she steps into it, or uses the PINpoint. And when she thinks that, the words come to her mind and tongue on their own.
"The truth of the matter is, I couldn't contact you where I was." Her eyes slowly slide away from her father's. With what she's about to say, she can't even look at the missing spot where his right eye used to be.
"I...We had difficulties while exploring Tartarus." Suddenly, she's very glad that they were never able to figure out why the transmission between her and Takeba shorted out that one time.
"We were caught in one of the floors, you see, and..." She shouldn't be staking her father's trust on some fact that hasn't even been proven yet, but it's better then the truth right now. The lie is also coming surprisingly easy, as long as she looks at something other then her father.
For now, she settles for the table between them. It's solid oak, and it takes the equivalent of a fork lift to even budge it. All the same, Mitsuru wishes there was a bit more between them; even seated behind it, she feels exposed and awkward.
"We remained there when the Dark Hour ended. Only Arisato was able to escape before then, and we had to devout the few hours in which Tartarus manifested with finding our way back out." Instead of looking at her father when she's done, Mitsuru focuses on keeping every nerve in her face and muscle in her body relaxed; no tenseness, no sign that she's given him anything other then the full truth.
Mitsuru has to use that same amount of discipline to keep her breath from rushing out in a sigh when she hears her father speak.
"That would explain why you managed to completely drop off the Kirijo Group's radar." His fingers unclench a little, but only by a few hairs. And he looks like he's about to object to something -maybe just that they're taking too many risks inside Tartarus- so Mitsuru rushes to fill the silence without any prompting.
"We know better now, and can take steps to avoid having such a thing happen again." Which is at least partially the truth; they did learn a lot about the Strangers, and she's certain they can dodge something like that if it ever happens again.
"And...I think it's an acceptable risk to continue as planned." And Mitsuru can say that with complete certainty. "If it finds a way to eliminate all the mistakes, isn't it worth anything else?" When her father's hands clench back up, Mitsuru loses any other words she might have used, and is left with waiting for what he has to say, once again.
"...You may go now." It isn't an answer to her question, but is is an order. Mitsuru bows her head in response, and slowly stands. He doesn't say anything as she walks towards the door, but once her fingers touch the handle, Mitsuru hears his voice again.
"...Mitsuru." And that weary, tired tone is back again. "You will be careful, I hope."
"...Yes. Father." That is at least one question she can answer honestly.