The rest of the walk was quiet. In many ways, it was a blessing. In many more, it was the worst thing that could've happened.
They were a few hours away from Sanroku and Yuko hadn't said a single thing. She walked with the group, ate when prompted, and showed up to Shizumi's tent when her bandages needed to be changed.
The others couldn't help but be concerned.
“Usually she gets angry, lashes out and eventually hurts herself into resting and processing,” Shizumi muttered quietly.
Satoru nodded somberly. “She's crushed by what happened… Are her injuries healing at least?”
“Should be able to remove the threads in a few days. Her ribs worsened that day, but nothing that rest can't heal.”
Kosuke sighed. “Our father tends to have that kind of effect on people he dislikes. I'm still sorry it has befallen Yuko.”
Wakane clasped her hands together and attempted a smile. “Despite the setback, the Migration is still quite successful so far. I know our father will get them to Niku safely, which is still better than suffering casualties.”
“I wish Yuko could see it that way…” Satoru mumbled.
Another voice joined them. “It's not the first time she's been like this.” It was Yuko's father. “The mining tunnel collapse 4 years ago.”
Satoru frowned for a moment, before connecting the dots. “Her mother passed during those events, didn't she?”
The man nodded. “It was predictable, yet we couldn't afford to stay home. Yuko had begged and pleaded for her not to go. We should've listened,” he explained, before pausing for a few moments.
“She always ends up blaming herself. Even if she's wrong doing that, some part of her probably knows she's being unfair to herself, it doesn't stop the way she feels.”
“Can anything be done to help her?” Shizumi asked.
There was a sigh. It was clear he'd failed here in the past. “I wasn't fair to her back then. She… she needs people that'll make sure she's taking care of herself, but give her space to figure things out. Offer, but don't push. She'll be there when she's ready. That's when she'll need you most.”
“I suppose we'll just have to keep doing as we are,” Wakane responded, though she clearly hoped for a more helpful answer.
“I'll go have a chat with her if she's feeling up for it,” he offered, turning around. “You're doing better than I was. She'll turn around soon enough. You seemed to have faith in her before.”
It was around lunchtime when Yuko saw her father approach her. It was basically precautionary that she reached into her backpack for a nutrient bar.
“Hey kiddo,” he started as he raised his own meal in solidarity.
She mirrored him, but didn't speak. She avoided eye contact as well, keeping her eyes on the road in front of her.
The two quietly ate their food together. It was almost like being back at home.
He sighed. “I'm sorry. Did I ever tell you that?”
Nothing.
“I should've had more faith in you. I always should've. It's just… difficult to see your kid grow up. To realise that they don't need you for everything anymore. That soon, they won't need you for anything anymore. I couldn't see that, when your mom died. We figured we knew better as the adults in the room.”
He paused as he gathered his thoughts.
“I let you down. You deserved so much better than the crappy father I was, and you had to grow up all by yourself. You don't need me anymore.”
Another sigh.
“But, well, that's okay- that you don't need me anymore. Not that I abandoned you, I suck for doing that. But I… I want to be there for you. For whenever you'd want me to be. It's the least I can do for not being there when you did need me.”
Yuko wasn't sure what to think. She couldn't parse how she felt. It wasn't until she heard him say these words that realised she needed them. She managed a small smile. Melancholic? Hopeful, maybe? She wasn't sure. The pain wasn't gone, but it felt… lighter. Easier to bear.
He smiled in kind. “Your team's real worried about you. They want to help, but you make sure to take your time, alright? If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. You got that, kid? Whether it's them, or maybe me, we're here for you.”
“... I will, dad.”
The arrival back to Sanroku was the peaceful kind of quiet, though Shizumi and Satoru insisted that Yuko stayed in the city to help out while they departed again to fulfil their promises to make a second trek with the middle group of the Migration.
Between them being gone, and the siblings being busy managing Sanroku in this chaotic time, Yuko had lots of time to think.
She mostly kept herself busy by receiving incoming groups and getting them to their quarters. Most of them had people missing, most of them were missing at least a quarter, while some were even almost entirely gone. Few of them were actual deaths. Most of them were convinced to go to Niku.
The only silver lining was that Sanroku had a much easier time providing for about half of the expected population.
Niku…
She'd heard a lot about the place. A city easily four times the size of Shini, mainly thanks to the fact that the buildings were often taller by a story or more, surrounded by walls and barbed wire. Food production was industrialised, almost comparable to Shini if a lot more effective thanks to the difference in climate, atmosphere and most of all: technology. Everyone has their jobs and roles to fulfill like cogs in a machine.
It didn't really sound that bad, initially. It was a place where no one had to worry about surviving and everyone lived with purpose.
The problems started when you didn't fit in. When you didn't or couldn't fit the mold they needed you to fit. Or if you didn't agree with its single ruler.
It only became worse when you sat down to think about what the city's purpose was.
War and dominion. Vengeance for something no one here remembered. Did anyone in the rest of the world? Fear for something that might not even exist anymore. What did the rest of the world even look like now?
Niku was dangerous.
“We can't just pretend it doesn't exist, Kosuke!” Yuko exclaimed.
It was a few days later. Shizumi and Satoru had returned from their second trip, and everyone was seated at a table as they ate dinner. They were discussing the logistics of the redistribution of resources in Sanroku, yet Niku had gone unmentioned.
Everyone was startled and looked at her.
Kosuke sighed, but Satoru was the first to speak up as he frowned. “I'm glad you found your voice, Yuko. What do you suggest we do, though?”
“Kill him.”
Shizumi gasped softly. “We can't just solve our problems with violence like that,” she argued, too surprised to be upset.
“Why not? Niku will never leave Sanroku be, and they will never let us leave. He knew what we were doing with the migration. He's been watching us. But all of Niku relies on him. If he's gone, maybe things can change.”
Kosuke sighed again. Wakane stared at her plate silently. It was clearly not the first time they'd thought about it. It was still just as difficult. “Niku is an impenetrable fortress. There is no way to dismantle it from the outside,” Kosuke said.
Yuko shook her head. “How impenetrable it is doesn't matter if the guy at the head of it all is gone.”
“He seemed awfully calm at gunpoint, even if we lured him out,” Shizumi pointed out, “at least until you pulled out Fukui's pistol.”
“With the right material, the matter firearms are easier to repel than those using physical ammunition,” Kosuke explained, “He's likely wearing protective layers for those at all times, but not so much bullet resistant layers.”
“I should've taken the shot then and there,” Yuko cursed.
Satoru looked at Yuko in surprise. “Please think about what you're saying. We can't destabilize a place like Niku this way. It would get so many more people killed in the collapse.”
Shizumi frowned. “Honestly, I'm glad you didn't. You'd carry that around forever, even if it would've been easier.”
“There has to be something we can do…”
Wakane's hands balled into fists. Then she suddenly stood and left the room.
Yuko immediately stood up to follow her.
“I don't wish to talk about it,” Wakane said bluntly when she noticed as she was being followed.
“I just want to understand,” Yuko responded in confusion.
To that, the other woman turned around with a menacing glare. Her strange accent matching that of the other citizens of Sanroku was gone. “He is my father , Yuko. You are talking about killing my father.”