The next moments blurred together. After her conversation with Ken's dad—a conversation she mostly drifted through—Amari excused herself to sit quietly by Emi's side, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She stayed there for what felt like hours, one hand resting on Emi's claw, grounding herself in the assurance that Emi was safe.
Ken had wrapped a blanket over her shoulders and pressed a warm cup into her hands, fussing over her before kissing her forehead. "I'll always be there," he murmured softly. "Just call my name, and I'll be right there." Then, sensing she needed this time alone, he'd given her a final, understanding look before leaving the room.
As the warmth of his kiss lingered, Amari found herself absentmindedly touching her forehead, the ghostly trace of his affection blooming into a gentle heat beneath her skin. She'd never felt so loved, so truly seen.
With a clearer head and calmer heart, she began to unravel her thoughts. The guilt that had plagued her—the relentless feeling that somehow, someway, it was her fault—felt less insistent now. She saw, perhaps for the first time, how irrational it was, but remnants of that guilt still clung to her, refusing to fully let go.
"Amari, you worry," came Mr. Sato's voice, pulling her from her reverie. She turned to find him watching her with a gentle smile.
"Mr. Sato," she greeted him, a small, weary smile gracing her lips. "I guess I'm not hiding it as well as I thought." She sighed, her voice barely a whisper. "I do...I worry. So, so much."
Mr. Sato took a seat in the chair Ken had vacated not long ago. "These old ears may be tired, but they still work just fine," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Would you like to talk about it?"
Her fingers tightened around the mug, and after a moment, she gave a small nod. "Sometimes...sometimes I wonder if I'm enough, if I do enough. Everyone seems to believe I am. Ken is so sure of it...but no matter how much I tell myself that, I just...can't stop doubting."
Mr. Sato nodded, his expression thoughtful. "So what if you aren't good enough?"
She blinked, caught off guard by his question. "What?"
Mr Sato smiles as he continues "What if you can't always do it all? What then?"
Amari opened her mouth to answer, but the words stalled, caught somewhere between her mind and her heart. She glanced down at her hands wrapped tightly around the mug, feeling the weight of her own expectations press against her chest.
"But... isn't that what I'm supposed to be?" she whispered. "Strong enough. Calm enough. Able to handle everything for them... for Emi, for Ken, for all of us." Her voice wavered as the vulnerability she'd fought so hard to contain spilled out in hesitant waves.
Mr. Sato leaned back, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "When I was your age, I thought the same thing. I wanted to be the anchor for everyone I loved." He chuckled, the sound gentle. "But I eventually learned something: sometimes the strongest thing you can be is human. Letting yourself be imperfect, unsure—that's when the people who love you get a chance to hold you, too. When you allow your heart and ears to open to recognize their voice, that worry seems to grow smaller."
His words drifted over her, each one sinking in like gentle ripples across a pond. She had spent so long believing that her worth depended on how much she could bear, how seamlessly she could carry the weight of everyone else's burdens. But here was Mr. Sato, this man who had seen so much, suggesting that her value might lie in something quieter, softer.
"What if you let yourself be enough as you are?" he continued, his voice tender. "What if you allowed yourself to trust that Ken, Emi, all of us—we see you as whole, exactly as you are? You don't have to be a pillar every single moment. You're allowed to be... just Amari."
A silence settled between them, thick with unspoken thoughts. Amari felt the familiar ache of her doubts, but now there was something else beside it—a sliver of relief, tentative but undeniable. She released a slow breath, her shoulders softening as if shedding a weight she hadn't realized she'd been carrying.
"You think it's really possible?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mr. Sato's eyes softened as he nodded. "It's more than possible, Amari. It's necessary." He paused, then added, "Strength isn't just about holding on. It's about knowing when to let go, too."
His words wrapped around her heart, settling into the spaces where fear and guilt had once lingered. She gave him a soft, grateful smile.
"Thank you, Mr. Sato. I... I think I needed to hear that." She glances down at her mug, knowing the man who made it for her was just a room away.
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Ultraman: Rising Fanfic
Fanfiction"A true hero isn't measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart" - Hercules The plot and images are not my own. The oc belongs to me. Please Read, comment, vote, follow and enjoy.
