Saejima stares at the boy—no, man—trying to comprehend the fact he has a son. He hadn’t known you were pregnant when he went to jail. Would he have still done what he did if he knew? He has no answer.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you, to his child. Saejima bows. He has to. It’s only right. He left you to raise Riku—his son, your son—alone for the last twenty-five years. An apology isn’t enough, but he doesn’t know what else to do.