Work Text:
If there was one thing Yuuichirou Hikari was most afraid of, it was loss. The grief that followed, the ache in his heart or the suffering of those he loved, were pains he feared.
And he was a stubborn man. He was persistent, he searched for answers even when the clues weren't in sight just yet. People would say he was a dedicated scientist; brilliant, an important man of this generation.
Deep down, he'd merely been a man; a father, too afraid to loose his son, too desperate to give him a chance of life that had been robbed of off him after birth.
The day the Doctor at the hospital declared Saito no longer breathed had been a grim one, for both him and his wife. He'd held Haruka close, her frame shaking as she cried, while he remained in shock. The Doctor's words and other people's words of pity only made his heart constrict, felt almost empty to his ears.
“There was little hope for recovery--” “There's nothing we could've done, I'm sorry--” “What a cruel fate--” “I'm so sorry for your loss--” “He was just a baby--”
Yes, just a little baby, small as Yuuichiro had craddled him and Netto the day they'd been born, Haruka's smiling peacefully while she gazed at them. It'd been so perfect, such a bright moment.
Then why?
Why had this happened?
He felt so powerless. It wasn't fair.
But he was stubborn; it wasn't going to end this way.
The pain from the day Saito died stayed with him and he used it as fuel; throwing himself into his work was the only way he could deal with this grief. And that's how his determination, his desperation to continue his unsuccessful project was born.
Often times, saying he'd done it for his son, for the project, felt like excuses; he'd done it because he couldn't bear the loss of someone so dear, of watching his wife's sadness and being unable to do anything. Because even when he followed the cold logic of the scientist, he'd always been an emotional man; he'd been selfish and wanted to defy fate.
It'd eaten at him for countless nights, as he worked with little sleep to finish the previously failed Navi Project. What he was doing was surely against something, some law of the universe, some moral, but Yuuichirou would go against all that if it meant completing the project; if it meant he could make his son's heart beat again.
After days, wondering if he'd failed, if this had all been for nothing, of questioning himself and everything he stood for, what felt like a miracle happened.
He was a man of science, but when he saw green eyes slowly blink open, his face so similar to Netto's, when he saw his son look up at him through the screen, he could only think of it as a miracle. The feeling was overwhelming, and he'd broke down crying, alone in a silent, dim lit room, in front of his computer, exhaustion deep in his bones but some form of peace settling in his heart.
It was a success.
“P—Pap....a...?” The voice was so small, unused, it was that of a child's. “Where...am I?”
And Yuuichirou had rubbed at his tired, wet eyes and rested his fingertips on the screen, smiling for the first time in days.
“You're home, son. Saito---You're home.”