tsukikage-yuri
“Oh,” was the only thing Ayame managed to say after several moments of silence. Yuri's words had warmed her heart while simultaneously shattering it, and she found herself unable to look at her sister for the time being. “Oh, I... I understand. I'm glad. Thank you for telling me, Onee-san.”
He asked you to forgive him, and said you'd always be his daughter no matter what.
“Although, I don't think that he... did anything that needs forgiveness.” She added quietly, hesitantly glancing up at Yuri. “But since he felt like he did, I'll forgive him, of course.”
She paused then, not quite finished but unsure of how to continue. It was hard to put into words, but being unable to remember her own past was more painful right now than she'd ever thought possible. She knew that she had once had a father and she knew that she'd loved him with all her being - which was why she'd asked Yuri about his thoughts in the first place, as it was unsettling not to recall whether or not he'd reciprocated these feelings.
Now that she'd learned that he had, Ayame regretted ever bringing it up; the only other thing she knew about him was the fact that he was dead.
“I wish I could tell him that.” She said finally, her grasp on Yuri's blouse tightening as she lowered her head and stared at her feet. “I wish I could see him...” the black haired girl continued, her voice becoming quieter with every word, “I wish I could see him just once and say 'It's fine, Father, whatever happened wasn't your fault'. He'd probably give me a hug, then...” She trailed off and it was almost as if she could feel his warmth against her, but then she realized that it was only the warmth of the tears that had begun streaming down her cheeks. “I'm sorry, I'm being selfish, but -”
“I wish I could at least remember him.” She finished, her shaky voice barely above a whisper, then finally wrapped her arms around Yuri as well.
