You have some apologies to make

Wordlessly, Mrs. Fukada leads you to the living room of their house. You’re not particularly surprised to find Mr. Fukada there sitting on one of the chairs, and you catch a glimpse of a worried frown plastered on his face just before he stands up as you enter.

“Ken-san…” he starts.

“F-Fukada-san…” you respond in turn. A few moments of silence go by before...

“PLEASE FORGIVE US!” Mr. Fukada shouts, bowing as low as he could without hitting anything.

“PLEASE FORGIVE ME!” You cry simultaneously, bowing as low as you dared before falling over.

Mr. Fukada recovers first, and immediately launches into a long apology.

“Please, forgive our family’s great transgression! We have committed a great dishonour on you today. It is our fault that you were afflicted with such pain and so we must make amends-”

“No, no, no, that’s not right at all!” You cut in. “It was I who sent Emiru back without thinking, so it is my fault I collapsed…”

“Emiru knew you had Yellow Fever, so she should have stayed with you the entire time!”

“But I said to her that I felt fine, and that she needed rest! I did not understand the true nature of the fever, so I thought I would be fine!”

“Now, now…” Mrs. Fukada speaks up, putting an end to your battle to out-apologise the other. “It’s late, and we should not be shouting. Ken-san, I know you feel guilty for the stress you have given us, but Maiko said you did not even know about what your fever does to you. I don’t think you should blame yourself for it. Husband, the important thing is that Ken-san is here now and OK, correct? I understand that we have disrespected him, but I do not think this is the time for grovelling.”

Mr. Fukada looks unconvinced, but eventually agrees.

“Even so, I do not feel it is right to simply let this situation pass without acknowledging it. Ken-san, I understand that you do not wish to blame us, but please, can you at least accept our sincere apology for failing to be good hosts?”

You want to rebut, but you get the feeling that’d just lead to another argument. And Mrs. Fukada was right; you didn’t have the strength right now to fight a battle like that.

“Well...OK,” You finally nod. “I’ll accept your apology. However, I do not want you to consider yourselves as having failed me; what has happened was the fault of all of us. Please do not blame yourselves...or Emiru.”

Hearing this, Mr. Fukada nods, accepting your compromise.

“Excellent. That’s settled now,” Mrs. Fukada states with a clap.

“I suppose so…” You murmur. You wonder if Mr. Fukada felt the need to apologise to you on behalf of the family as his duty as a father, rather than making Emiru do it.

Speaking of which…

Just to check, you quickly glance around the room again, before turning back to Mr. and Mrs. Fukada.

“Fukada-san,” You ask. “Where is Emiru now?”

The moment the words leave your mouth, the mood changes immediately. Mr. Fukada’s tight frown transitioned into a full grimace. Even Mrs. Fukada, before mostly neutral, now looked downcast and concerned. Seeing the normally happy and jovial couple looking like this makes your blood run cold.

“Emiru is…” Mr. Fukada starts, but the words seem to catch in his throat.

“...she’s in her room,” Mrs. Fukada says, picking up after her husband. “She’s closed herself in there and...won’t come out. Even after I told her that you were fine, and were coming home, she…”

She’s closed herself in her room? You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“...how long has she been in her room?” You ask, trying to be gentle.

“Since...the police came.” Mrs. Fukada answers.

Silence fills the room. You feel yourself reel back in shock. Several seconds go by before you can formulate a response.

“Fukada-san…” You say, your voice resolute. “Please tell me...everything that happened while I was away.”

Your hosts take a moment to glance at each other. They simply exchange a nod in agreement before turning back to you.

“Emiru came back around...4 PM or so. She told us that you had decided to stay out and explore some more, and that you said she should return without her.” Mrs. Fukada began.

“I wasn’t happy that she had come home without you,” said Mr. Fukada. “But she told us that you were able to speak Japanese with others just fine, and that you had our phone numbers in case anything went wrong.”

Another small pang of guilt shoots through you as you remember that you forgot to call Emiru after you were done at the arcade. If you had managed to make that call, could this situation have been avoided?

“We tried calling you to see if you wanted to meet for dinner, but you didn’t answer. We tried calling again, and again...but no response. By then, we began to worry. We were all about to go look for you, but then...then the police showed up at our door.”

“What did they tell you?” You ask.

“They told us that you had been found collapsed outside a shop in Tokyo,” Mr. Fukada said, his voice low. “The diagnosis was due to a buildup of the fever, and Maiko-san had to take you in for urgent treatment.”

“The police asked to speak with Emiru privately, so we didn’t get to hear what they told her,” Mrs. Fukada added. “And when they left...I just saw Emiru run off to her room crying. She hasn’t left since then. Not to eat, not to drink...nothing.”

“Have you entered her room to see if she is OK?” You ask.

Mrs. Fukada shook her head. “We won’t do that. Emiru is her own person; she deserves to have her own space where we won’t interrupt. If she chooses to stay in her room, she will come out when she’s ready.”

But when will she be ready…?

Once again, the blanket of silence descends over the room. You sift through everything you’ve been told, trying to weigh up your options. Tossing the ideas in your mind, you could almost see a Visual Novel-style ‘pick an option’ prompt appear in front of your eyes.

In this circumstance, there’s only one option that really makes sense to me. Let’s just hope it doesn’t lead to a bad end.

“Fukada-san,” You say aloud. “Would you mind if...if I were to enter Emiru’s room?”

Mr. Fukada frowned. “Why?”

“I want to try and speak with her. I want to let her know that I am safe and well. Also, I have a gift to give her.”

Mr. Fukada took a moment to consider, then nodded, giving his blessing. You start to walk out of the room, but you catch Mrs. Fukada whispering as you take a few steps.

“Is this really OK?” You hear her whisper.

“What do you mean?” Mr. Fukada responds.

“Well...it’s just…” Mrs. Fukada hesitates. “Having a boy enter a girl’s room...to have them there together, alone...isn’t it a little...lewd?”

You pause between strides. You feel yourself flash back to what Mrs. Fukada did for you that morning, the way she relieved your fever. All you do is just shake your head in disbelief.

I’m just going to talk to her. That's all.

Finally, you make your way to Emiru’s door. You’re about to raise your hand to knock, but you decide to take a moment to think about what you want to say first. Whilst the conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Fukada helped take your mind off the situation for a bit, the insidious fear about how Emiru would react to seeing you had again begun to encroach through your mind.

You didn’t think she’d hate you, not after Mr. Fukada’s response, but the fact that Emiru’s been shut inside her room this entire time definitely told you she wasn’t in the best state of mind. It was obvious that she blamed herself for you collapsing. Whilst you may have been able to convince Mr. Fukada that you were responsible for sending her away, it would be much harder to convince Emiru that it wasn’t her fault.

Clenching your fist, you feel the material of the Mahō Shōjo bag in your fingers. Somehow, you felt that the figure would be the pivotal part about how this goes.

And so, with only a few sentences rehearsed in your mind, you raise your hand and knock on Emiru’s door.

No response.

You knock again, louder. “Emiru?” You call out.

Silence.

“Emiru? It’s me, Ken. I’m...I’m OK. Please do not be scared.”

Still nothing.

The radio silence is making you anxious. Nobody knows anything about what Emiru’s been doing for the past few hours. What if she hurt herself? What if she ran away? What if she was so depressed, that she thought she had life wasn’t worth living and then-

Fear snaking through your heart, you rap your knuckles against the door one last time, the sound echoing through the halls.

“Emiru? Can...May I come in?”

Nothing but the blood thumping in your ears. Without hesitation, you grip the door handle and swing it open wide, mentally bracing yourself for what you might be faced with.

It takes your brain a moment to process the surroundings. At first glance, it seemed like a regular bedroom; neatly organised and well furnished. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the shelves set around the edges of the room, some containing things like books and notepads, but more than a few sections were dedicated to displaying anime figures; you recognise a good few belonging to various Magical Girl shows or other girly series like them. A simple desk and laptop was positioned against the wall, just under the window, and a single-sized bed was set just besides the in the middle of room, accessorised with stuffed animals and cute pillows.

You breathe a sigh of relief as you find nothing being cause for concern; everything looked to be in order and it certainly didn’t look like Emiru had fled through the window or anything. Unfortunately, that didn’t answer the pressing question:

Where was she?

You cast your eyes around the room, and at first glance, it really seemed like Emiru wasn’t there. You were about to turn and leave when a movement in your peripheral vision catches your eye. And then you see it. There is black mound peeking over the edge of Emiru’s bed. Initially, you had mistaken it for another pillow, but only hair shines like that when under light.

“Emiru...”

You go around the bed, over to her. Emiru is sat on the floor behind the bed, her head buried in her arms against her knees. You could barely see her face from the angle, but it was clear that she had been crying. You feel a pit of despair open in your stomach. Comparing the girl you had spent the day with to the one before you; the one who, just that afternoon had been laughing, cheering, and smiling alongside you reduced to...this breaks your heart.

“...it’s not your fault.” You didn’t know what else to say.

Emiru doesn’t react to your words. What seemed like an eternity passes. Just as you started contemplating about what to do next...she finally speaks.

“...why?”

Her voice is frail, like a thin thread that could snap at any time. You sit down next to her, putting your hand on her shoulder, silently pleading for her to continue.

“Why did...you ask me to leave?”

“...it’s not your fault,” You repeat. “Please, do not blame yourself. I asked for you to leave...because I wanted to get a gift to thank you.”

“...thank me?” She whispers, raising her head slightly.

“Yes. I had a lot of fun today, Emiru. You showed me your school, you paid for lunch, we went to the arcade...I felt very happy. So...I wanted to repay you.”

To emphasise your point, you bring out the Mahō Shōjo figure and place it in front of her. Hearing this, Emiru finally raises her head enough to look at it. Her expression is blank and her eyes are red and puffy; it was obvious she’d been crying for a long time. Her gaze fixates on the box before her, but her expression doesn’t change. You can only guess what’s going on in her mind.

And so, the two of you sit there, behind the bed, in complete silence. Whilst the mood is not exactly tense, you nonetheless are unable to fully relax; how could you with Emiru sitting there like that? You think about speaking up, asking her if she feels better, or something like that, but every time you open your mouth, nothing comes out.

As time ticks by, you feel the events of the day begin to wear on you. Fatigue starts to creep in, despite the fact that you were **** for a significant portion of the evening. Though you wish you could stay with Emiru all night, you remember that you have to attend school tomorrow. It hurt to admit, but you doubted there was anything else you could do or say to make her feel better now; at this point, only time could heal her wounds.

“I’m sorry, Emiru, but I have to leave,” you say as you stand up. “But, I want you to know that I do not think you should blame yourself for what happened. I didn’t know this would happen, so...I’m sorry.”

Once again, Emiru doesn’t respond to you. A part of you screams to stay with her, to find the magic phrase that’d return her to the girl she was before, but you knew it’d be futile; you wouldn’t even know what to say in English, let alone in Japanese.

Giving one last solemn look at her, you turn away and start to make for the door. But after only a few steps, her voice stops you.

“Ken...do you know what the policeman told me?”

“What?” You ask, turning back to her.

“They told me everything. About the fever. About why you collapsed. About what your preferences are.”

Your brow knits in concern as you listen to her words. You look around, and sure enough, you spy a blue pamphlet identical to the one from Maiko’s clinic thrown carelessly next to one of her pillows.

“When I asked you if you needed relief...you refused,” Emiru continued, her voice shaking. “You never asked me to help you, even though you needed it. Is it...am I not good enough?”

“That’s wrong!” You interject. “It has nothing to do with that, Emiru. I did not ask for help, because I did not know how powerful the fever is. If I had known, I definitely would have asked you for help!”

There was a long pause. Emiru’s figure shifts and then, for the first time, she stands up, though her back remains facing towards you.

“Then, Ken…” She says. “Do you...think I’m pretty?”

Her question bewilders you, making you wonder if it was a trick question somehow. “Of course! I think that you are very pretty.” You tell her sincerely.

You see Emiru’s head sag slightly. Her hands close, as if she’s thinking about something, but after a moment, she turns around and walks over to you.

And then she kisses you straight on the lips.

Her lips were soft. They push against yours, with almost a ****, needy **** behind it. Your brain short circuits. Whatever you were thinking about before was suddenly lost as you try to process the situation.

After a few moments, without much fanfare, Emiru steps back, breaking the kiss. She somehow looks just as shocked as you are at what just happened, leaving you both in a state of stunned silence.

“...uh…” You eventually manage to say.

Emiru averts her eyes quickly. “After that policeman came...I told myself that I would be there for you. That I would be there for your fever. I want...I want to be the one that can fulfill your desires...whatever they are.” She began slowly.

“What do you-” You cut yourself off as the realisation hits you.

No way…

As if answering your thoughts, Emiru does the unthinkable. With shaking hands, she moves to her waist and pulls down her skirt and panties in one go. Your eyes widen as she goes to remove her top, as you realise that, after all this time, she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“If you think that I’m pretty...then I want to help you as well, no matter what it takes.” Emiru tells you. Despite trying to sound brave, you could still hear the nervousness and fear in her voice. “And that’s why...please, Ken…”

After a deep breath, she raises her head to look directly at you. You can see the determination shining in her eyes. And then, she says her next words in your mother tongue.

“Let me...have...your child.”