"Do I look like I know what I'm doing?!" Nathan blurted, voice laced with disbelief, eyes fixed on Subaru who could only stare back, dumbfounded by the question.
Did he? Did Nathan truly have a clue?
Whether or not he did mattered little. All that truly mattered to Nathan was the outcome, staying alive, achieving his goal, awakening his dormant potential. The real question wasn't whether he understood what he was doing, but rather if his actions would amount to anything. Could he escape death? Could he make it out alive against this whispering, menacing force that taunted them?
That was the question worth asking.
"We should be arriving soon," Nathan muttered, gathering his drifting thoughts. "Only then can you judge if I actually know what I'm doing."
"Y-Yeah," Subaru replied, nodding nervously. "Brandon said it wasn't far from here."
Nathan cast him a quick glance, subtle and probing, feeling the need to lighten the atmosphere with an innate personal question posed to Subaru.
"Your kids... Didn't they cross your mind when you abandoned the quest?"
Subaru stiffened. His eyebrows rose in surprise. "How do you know I have kids?"
He was certain he hadn't told anyone in Origin Expanse about his life back in the real world, much less that he was divorced with two daughters.
Nathan gave a half-shrug. "Hmm... You didn't. I guess it just felt like you did."
Nathan had picked up on the subtle signs. The way Subaru stepped in between him and Rory, diffused tension like someone used to separating fights. That wasn't just instinct; it was the practised action of a man familiar with conflict. Then there was the hesitation, the painful, reluctant pause when Subaru was faced with a choice to risk himself for others. It was hesitation born from someone with something precious to lose.
"See? You even guessed that I have two kids, not one." Subaru's eyes widened, tone mingling awe and disbelief.
The praise felt hollow to Nathan, unnecessary even. He didn't see his observations as anything exceptional. In his mind, this level of awareness was basic. Fundamental. Everyone should be able to do it.
"Don't make it sound impressive. It's just the minimum. Given the stakes, even you should manage this much."
Those words stung. Subaru felt himself shrink inside, a sudden wave of inadequacy washing over him.
"How old are you, anyway?" he asked, curiosity piqued.
"Fifteen," Nathan replied.
And then a thought crept into his mind: What if a demon is involved?
The idea chilled him. A demon had already been mentioned before. Its presence looming at the edge of possibility now felt more likely than he cared to admit. Even the weakest of the demonic race ranked as a town-level threat. A menace. A terror.
But their quest? It was labelled Calamity. One rank above Terror.
The implication gnawed at him.
No. He didn't want to believe it. He refused to entertain the notion that his tutorial trial, his very first experience in Origin Expanse could pit him against one of the most feared entities in existence. That would be cruel. Unfair. Unreal.
Still, the seed of doubt had been planted, and no matter how deeply he buried it, the anxiety lingered.
"As I thought... you really are impressive," Subaru murmured, oblivious to Nathan's inner turmoil. "My oldest is just a year younger than you. Lately, I've been hearing terrible things. She's hanging out with delinquents, smoking, even bullying classmates. Do you know how many times her school has contacted me about it?"
Nathan noticed the sudden hush in Subaru's tone and decided to play along.
"How many?" he asked, without emotion.
"More than ten times!" Subaru snapped. His voice cracked with frustration.
"Wow. That's... not good."
"Exactly! It's horrible. How can a child repeat the same mistakes over and over like that?!"
"..."
"Honestly, I wish she was a bit like you. Not completely, maybe just enough to lift her grades, maybe see that she's spiralling, that she needs to change. What's your grade in school, by the way?"
"I don't attend school."
"You don't? Why?"
Nathan stopped in his tracks. This time, he turned fully toward Subaru, eyes locking on him with unsettling calm.
"Because I'm a shut-in. Too exhausted to face the world's cruel injustices and the corrupted systems choking it."
His words were direct, cold, and sharp enough to cut.
"I-I see. A shut-in. Nothing wrong with that!" Subaru stammered, clearly shaken by Nathan's gaze.
Nathan turned back around, moving ahead again, leaving Subaru to let out a breath of relief.
"Believe me," Subaru said, trying to recover, "I don't think there's anything wrong with being a shut-in. My younger daughter, she's ten, she's probably going down the same path."
'If that's true, then maybe you're not doing a great job as their father,' Nathan thought but kept it to himself.
A daughter turning to delinquency, and another isolating herself from the world? That wasn't a healthy household. Nathan might have chosen to become a shut-in, but he wouldn't wish that path on anyone else.
"They're a handful," Subaru continued, chuckling weakly. "Always fighting, always at each other's throats. I swear I'm losing years from my life just trying to deal with them."
Nathan nearly scoffed. Here he was, calculating how to keep them all alive... and Subaru was unloading his parental crisis like Nathan was some emotional dumpster.
"I don't know if it's because they don't have a mother anymore or because I barely have time for them thanks to my job. I can't tell which of those turned them into such little rebels."
Even Nathan could deduce the problem.
"But you know what? I still love them. So much. I want to spend more time with them. I want to live long enough to see them grow. My oldest? I want to watch her graduate, get married. The youngest? She says she wants to be an idol. She barely talks to people, but I still believe she can do it. She's my daughter."
Belief alone won't fix it, Nathan thought. But he remained silent.
Subaru turned, voice suddenly breaking. "That's why, Mister Nathan... I want to live. I want to survive."
Nathan blinked. Tears. Subaru was crying. Silent streams of sorrow ran down his cheeks.
"I don't want to die. I don't want to leave them behind. They've already lost their mother. They can't lose me too. I can't let them become orphans."
A dull ache bloomed in Nathan's chest. The sight of a father breaking down over the thought of never seeing his children again... it hit a little too hard. It made him feel exposed, raw.
He stepped forward.
"You won't," Nathan said, voice steady. "Your daughters won't become orphans. I won't let that happen."
He wasn't sure he had the strength to back up those words. He wasn't even sure he could keep himself alive. But in that moment, seeing Subaru in tears, he needed to say something. He needed to silence the turmoil churning in his chest.
No matter what it took, he would try.
The Whispering Wake? Whatever it was, whoever it thought it was, Nathan has had just about enough of it. It's time to stop letting it get its way.
It was time to fight back.