[ For a father to call for the death of his own daughter...even if he had went mad, she can't imagine what that time must have been like for Nachetanya. And while she's grateful that Nachetanya is still here to tell the tale, to essentially have divided her country (which, she reminds herself, is no small or weak territory by any means...)
It must have been a brutal thing to go through. To see your father turn into something hysterical before your very eyes...
Tsubasa pulls herself back up, to face her properly. Her position is a bit of a strain on her back, but it's only proper to meet her gaze correctly, if this is the road they're to go down.
She reaches for her arm and takes her hand in both of hers. Her breath is even, her tone soft. ]
I'm sorry to hear about your mother and brother. ...And your father, of course, and your people. But most of all, I'm sorry for you, that you had to go through such a horrible thing.
[ But she knows how brutal family can be. Transmitter-san had said that family gives you strength, but, Tsubasa still doesn't think that's entirely true.
They're just supposed to. ]
...My mother gave birth to me when she was somewhere close to my age, from what I can tell. My father was absent my whole life; I don't even know who he is, or have any idea what his name could be. But when I was very young, my mother married another man, my first step-father. I only have a vague recollection of him, but my recollection of my mother is even more vague, because she took her own life when I wasn't older than three. My step-father, at the time, eventually became engaged to another woman, my step-mother, and when he passed away, she met my current step-father and married him when I was around seven years old. It's a bit of a complicated family tree, a mess of a string of marriages and re-marriages, but those two strangers, so far divorced beyond my father and mother, are more or less the only real family I've ever known, the only ones I was really old enough to remember distinctly.
[ She wants to keep it to the facts, like she did during the trial, but... ]
They only let me stay with them as a means of keeping up appearances. Neither of them had wanted to face the scandal of abandoning an orphan, but behind closed doors, they...can't stand the sight of me. On good days, it's as if I don't exist. It's like I'm an invisible guest in my own home, and I don't even have a room to call my own. On bad days, they react violently to my presence. When I try to de-escalate the situation, it simply makes it worse, so...on some nights, when I know that staying there would make things worse, I simply don't come home, and sleep in the park or somewhere under the stars.
[ She speaks of it impassively, as if she's relating a rumor she heard, as if she's divorced from the situation herself. Not a hint of sadness, or anger, or disgust strains at her voice. She just continues to hold her hand and speaks calmly. She hasn't told this to anyone before, but... ]
Cw: abuse
[ For a father to call for the death of his own daughter...even if he had went mad, she can't imagine what that time must have been like for Nachetanya. And while she's grateful that Nachetanya is still here to tell the tale, to essentially have divided her country (which, she reminds herself, is no small or weak territory by any means...)
It must have been a brutal thing to go through. To see your father turn into something hysterical before your very eyes...
Tsubasa pulls herself back up, to face her properly. Her position is a bit of a strain on her back, but it's only proper to meet her gaze correctly, if this is the road they're to go down.
She reaches for her arm and takes her hand in both of hers. Her breath is even, her tone soft. ]
I'm sorry to hear about your mother and brother. ...And your father, of course, and your people. But most of all, I'm sorry for you, that you had to go through such a horrible thing.
[ But she knows how brutal family can be. Transmitter-san had said that family gives you strength, but, Tsubasa still doesn't think that's entirely true.
They're just supposed to. ]
...My mother gave birth to me when she was somewhere close to my age, from what I can tell. My father was absent my whole life; I don't even know who he is, or have any idea what his name could be. But when I was very young, my mother married another man, my first step-father. I only have a vague recollection of him, but my recollection of my mother is even more vague, because she took her own life when I wasn't older than three. My step-father, at the time, eventually became engaged to another woman, my step-mother, and when he passed away, she met my current step-father and married him when I was around seven years old. It's a bit of a complicated family tree, a mess of a string of marriages and re-marriages, but those two strangers, so far divorced beyond my father and mother, are more or less the only real family I've ever known, the only ones I was really old enough to remember distinctly.
[ She wants to keep it to the facts, like she did during the trial, but... ]
They only let me stay with them as a means of keeping up appearances. Neither of them had wanted to face the scandal of abandoning an orphan, but behind closed doors, they...can't stand the sight of me. On good days, it's as if I don't exist. It's like I'm an invisible guest in my own home, and I don't even have a room to call my own. On bad days, they react violently to my presence. When I try to de-escalate the situation, it simply makes it worse, so...on some nights, when I know that staying there would make things worse, I simply don't come home, and sleep in the park or somewhere under the stars.
[ She speaks of it impassively, as if she's relating a rumor she heard, as if she's divorced from the situation herself. Not a hint of sadness, or anger, or disgust strains at her voice. She just continues to hold her hand and speaks calmly. She hasn't told this to anyone before, but... ]
...Obviously, this doesn't leave this room.