When he comes downstairs she's already in the vestibule, motorbike helmet tucked under her left arm, zipping up her boot while standing on the other leg. The pose abruptly reminds him of when she was in junior high, and competed in track meets. For a brief time she was the fastest girl in the school district.
She lifts her head and smiles, sensing his gaze. After a moment she remembers to remove the triangle of buttered toast from between her teeth.
I'm going, Father.
Have a good day, he says. Take care.
It is not merely that his courage fails him. She wouldn't answer him if he asked, and he doesn't want to make her tell the lies Sachiko believes. It was not they who went wrong, and neither has she. He knows it in his soul. There is nothing complicated or fettered about her, and it breaks his heart again and again to realise that she has never changed.
Even when she was born her eyes were calm and clear, like those of a lioness.
After the sound of the motorbike has receded into the distance, he pads into the kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee.