Let's cry (it's a translation from Psycho Pass Genesis 2, im currently translating it to spanish)
The wisteria hung in cascading waves from the trellis, forming a violet silk veil that separated the interior of the cabin from the outside world.
Masaoka peered inside cautiously. And in that instant, he understood. He should never have come here.
The words Yahiro had spoken to him in the past echoed in his mind, spinning in endless circles.
"What a man can hold in his hands is minimal. And if he forgets that and begins to desire everything like a spoiled child, he will end up losing it all. Everything will crumble and fall to pieces."
Chasing criminals as a detective. Lowering his crime coefficient as a citizen. Protecting his family as a father. He had believed those were modest aspirations. But reality did not work that way. Fulfilling even one of them was nearly impossible. Expecting to achieve two, or even all three, was a ridiculous fantasy. Life had never offered him an easy path. There was no fate where everything could be resolved perfectly. Not for someone like him—someone who had dared to challenge the oracle’s judgment.
Why had he never realized it before?
She looked even thinner than the last time he had seen her. But she did not seem to be suffering. On the contrary, her expression was one of absolute serenity. Like the other patients, she sat in a wheelchair, wrapped in a light blanket from the waist down. Her hands rested gently, interlaced on her lap. On her left ring finger, where her wedding ring used to be, there was now a small empty space. And yet, since her body remained motionless, the ring would never fall.
Masaoka called her name. There was no response. He took her hand. No reaction. Sae was right there, in front of him. And yet, she showed no sign of recognizing his presence. Her eyes were open, slightly narrowed, but still clear. They seemed to reflect him. But when he reached out, ran his fingers gently through her hair—always well-kept, always immaculate—she simply let him. She did not flinch, not even by reflex.
"That tickles, doesn’t it?"
Nothing. He wanted to see her smile. But it never came. Not even a flicker of recognition. It was as if her time had stopped long ago. Or as if she had become trapped in a world he could never reach. It was as if they lived in completely separate worlds. As if the person before him was nothing more than an illusion.
Masaoka softly pressed his ear against Sae’s chest. He could hear her heartbeat. He could feel her warmth. She had not become a lifeless doll. She was alive. Her warmth confirmed it. But still, she did not react at all. He could not push her, could not shake her roughly. If he did, Sae would simply fall to the ground without resistance, without even trying to stop herself.
Suddenly, he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small fabric pouch. Inside, there should have been the artificial gemstones Sae had sent him. But when he opened it and emptied the contents into his palm… all he found was dust. The gems had crumbled. During the investigation, with constant friction and inevitable impacts, the stones had lost their form. They had lost all their brilliance.
"…Inspector Iwanaga…"
Was he even pronouncing the words correctly? He wasn’t sure. The entire world wavered around him. A deep, relentless buzzing rang in his ears. Everything blurred, as if his vision were suddenly deteriorating. Inside the cabin, barely any sunlight managed to filter through, and Sae’s figure faded into the dimness. He clung to her hand. If he let go, she might truly disappear. She might cease to exist.
"…Sae… you… you're still alive, aren’t you?"
"Her body is still alive… but in terms of consciousness, she is dead."
He could not turn around. He could barely move. He knelt carefully, staring up at the silent Sae from below.
"Psycho-color-altering drugs generally fall into two major categories: stimulants and sedatives. The synthetic compound Yahiro developed first induces an extreme psychoactive shift, forcing a state of sudden euphoria. It completely suppresses the negative emotional weight that clouds the hue."
A forced erasure effect.
"But if you attempt to purify a color so aggressively, it imposes an even greater emotional burden on the mind. To compensate, the drug simultaneously acts as a powerful sedative."
It was like trying to achieve the perfect hue on a canvas by applying layer upon layer of paint—without restraint, without control.
"However, the problem with Yahiro’s drug is that it does not account for the subject’s resilience."
His "cure" was nothing more than imposed salvation. Or perhaps, a one-way ticket to self-destruction.
"The only type of people who could withstand such a color shift using this method are those who survived the darkest times in history. People who endured unimaginable emotional burdens and managed to move forward. But ordinary people, the citizens of modern society, do not have that strength. The moment they take the drug, their psycho-color doesn’t even have the chance to clear. Their minds shatter before that can happen."
"Yahiro’s mother, his father, the living corpses who clung to their privileges, the former director of the special unit Kaneko… Compared to people today, they had monstrous mental fortitude. If they hadn’t… If they hadn’t possessed that strength, they never would have survived that dark era. But in her case… I cannot say the same. I can find no other word to describe it but… tragedy."
That was why she had become someone alive… yet dead. Masaoka knelt in the shadows, where no one else would come, still holding her hand. Sae, who could no longer speak, who could no longer respond, remained there, motionless, with a faint, serene smile on her face.
Had that gesture of peace been the result of a sacrifice far too great? He thought about it, again and again. But he did not shed a single tear. To find the answer, he began to speak. He spoke of the day he met her. He spoke of the days they had spent together. Of everything they had shared. He told her their story, without stopping, regardless of whether she could hear him. Because crying was not a right he could allow himself. In time, all the words he needed to say were exhausted. The memories he needed to summon were left behind, along with the present
And then, he understood something. Despair was not a pain of the soul. It was not a sickness of the mind. It was something physical. It was the sticky dryness in his mouth after speaking without pause. It was the weight pressing down on his chest. Yet still, the tears did not come. As if his emotions had frozen.
And in the end, the only thing that tore him away from Sae was something cold, mechanical, and absolute. Something he could not defy. Some things, a son can never rebel against. For him, at least, this was one of them. He was dragged away from the veil of wisteria. And under the soft sunlight, on the stone pavement that, at that moment, felt like an execution platform built solely for him, he fell to his knees. And there, before him, stood the small judge who would decide his fate.
A child. His son.
His face, still youthful but with defined features, was covered in scars and bruises. In those eyes—the same ones he inherited from me—there was a dark, red hematoma. The corner of his lips was split. Each of those wounds was proof of the suffering that society had inflicted upon him. And they were also the scars of the burden I had forced him to carry.
Only then did I understand who was the one that had to die, who was the one that had to be judged. That was when I knew. I was probably going to die. Perhaps Yahiro Waji would see to that. But even if I managed to survive, one thing was certain: I would never be allowed to stay by my son's side. They wouldn’t let me. Society wouldn’t let me. And most importantly, Nobuchika would never forgive me.
If that was the case… then who would protect Nobuchika? Who would take care of Sae, who could only continue her slow march toward death? Akiho was someone I could trust, but she wouldn’t always be strong enough either. Could this society protect them? But if the danger came from society itself, then who would save them?
The Sibyl System, which proclaimed perfection, had given birth to a monster like Yahiro Waji. Many lives had already been lost, and many more were about to be sacrificed. This country, this society, might very well be on the brink of collapse. If we had only been born a little later, if fate had allowed us to enter this world at another time… would we have been able to live a truly happy life?
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
Nobuchika’s gaze was filled with hatred.
"Mother said… that you…"
"What?"
"That you would come back."
"That you made a promise a long time ago."
"That you would come to protect us… no matter what."
"But you never did."
A promise. So that was it. That was everything. She used to say it. That one day, she would be my wife. That we would have a child. That, even if just for an instant, she would give me something real, something genuine. The woman who gave me that brief moment of truth had once told me, with a radiant smile:
"Then, after this, let’s do something incredible."
But Sae’s wish was so simple. So small, so natural, so reasonable. She only wanted me to do what any father should do. The obvious thing. Protect his family. Just that. And yet, I couldn’t even do that.
If only I had managed to leave the isolation facility earlier… If I had found a way to escape, to return to her and Nobuchika… If I had been able to forget everything—the atrocities I had witnessed, the cursed memories of having killed my own comrades… If only…
But that wasn’t the path I chose. That future never came to be. It became a past that never existed. And now, there is nothing left for me to reclaim. Even if I had another chance… what would I have to sacrifice in exchange?
I can’t. There is nothing I am willing to lose. That is why, in the end, I ended up here. I surrendered to my own fate. I am a failure.
But listen to me, Nobuchika…
"This… is not over yet."
It is not your fate.
"Live… for us as well."
These were my last words.
"I will protect you. And I will protect this society."
I embraced him.
Nobuchika remained still, his body tense with surprise. But in the end, he pushed me away with force. I fell to the ground, hitting the stone pavement. From there, I looked up at him.
He had grown. He had become strong.
His gaze was filled with unmistakable contempt.
I didn’t care. The reason didn’t matter. The feelings didn’t matter.
I only wanted him to keep moving forward. To live.
That is why this is our farewell.
No matter what happens, I will never appear before him again.
That is the punishment I must bear for my sins.
Goodbye, Nobuchika. My son.
I started the engine of the Public Safety Bureau’s vehicle and drove.
Instead of Iwanaga, I was the one behind the wheel.
I remained silent for the entire drive.
There was nothing left to say.
There were no words that could fill this emptiness.
