Were they supposed to feel relieved that the questions finally had answers?

Or devastated that the answers were worse than the nightmares?

“Hey… you okay?” Kenji finally asked, voice thin.

“Y-yeah, just a little rattled. What about you?” Risa whispered back.

Kenji nodded—once, twice—then suddenly folded in on himself, his forehead almost touching the floor as a sound tore out of him.

Not his usual silent crying.

Not the muffled, hidden kind he’d mastered over the years.

He sobbed.

“I… I killed my own family,” he choked out. “I killed my own sister.”

His voice broke on the last word.

Like it physically hurt him to say it.

Like saying it made it real in a way reading it didn’t.

“My father plotted my own death when I was a kid. Let it all out, Kenji. It’s okay to cry,” Risa said softly, scooting closer until their shoulders touched.

Before Kenji could respond, a knock echoed against the metal door.

Dr. Aoi stepped inside slowly, the kind of slow that wasn’t dramatic—just the reality of old bones. He lowered himself to the floor beside them, grunting under his breath, but determined to sit with his kids.

“Everyone had their memories removed the day they entered the lab,” he began, voice gentle, tired. “Part of it was because I didn’t want you to ask questions about your families… but mostly, almost all of you came from trauma.”

He placed a careful hand on Kenji’s back. Kenji flinched at first, then melted into it.

“Son,” he continued, “when you first rode the ambulance with us, you were like an empty vessel. Blank face. No response when anyone spoke to you. And your eyes…” Dr. Aoi shook his head slowly. “Your eyes were completely empty.”

Kenji swallowed, trembling.

“When you woke up again,” Aoi said, “you looked confused. Curious. Alive. I knew then that you wouldn’t remember a single thing from your old home. And honestly?” He squeezed Kenji’s shoulder. “That was kinder than forcing you to live with guilt you were too young to carry.”

“When you were younger, you were a punk,” Aoi said, the tiniest smile tugging at his lips. “Always picking fights with your brothers and sisters. Always in trouble. And Saburō was always there to save you.”

Kenji let out a shaky laugh, wiping his eyes.

“But even if you were such a troublemaker,” Aoi continued, gently tilting Kenji’s chin up so their eyes met, “you always protected the younger ones. It’s almost as if your mind forgot about Yui, but your heart never did. That’s why you and Risa were inseparable even as kids. You looked out for her without even realizing why.”

Kenji’s breath hitched, guilt and warmth mixing in his expression.

Risa, who had been silent the whole time, finally whispered, “W–What about me?”

Aoi blinked, turning to her.

“H-How did you meet my mother?” she asked, voice trembling like she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

Aoi exhaled slowly, a sound full of years and ghosts.

"Ah, Bea. She was a college friend. She believed in Project SOMA before it even had a name. Me, Bea, and Saburō started Aokigahara Institute in my parents’ basement," Aoi said, a faint smile tugging at his lips at the memory of their early days. "Bea was an exchange student from America. A campus crush — the muse of every event. Honestly, I never understood why she chose to be friends with me. One day, I just found us crammed into a tiny room, throwing ideas around for what would eventually become Project SOMA."

"And how did you have me? How… how did I turn out different?" Risa asked.

"I always liked Bea. But I thought she liked Saburō, so I never imagined I had a chance. Then… Bea kissed me, and we had you. As for why you're different—" Aoi paused, gaze distant. "Your mother was pregnant with you while she was still working in the lab. I think the exposure changed something. Radiation, or perhaps something even more specific. Whatever it was… it shaped you before you were even born."

“If you don’t mind me asking… why did you let your people take me?” Risa asked, her voice steady but the question hitting Aoi like a physical blow.

“I never thought you would turn out like them,” he admitted, shock softening into something weary. “For once, I wanted something normal. A wife and a daughter I could come home to… without the constant dread of the unexplainable.”

Risa glanced at Kenji, uneasy. He was drowning in the truth of his family’s origins, and yet he was still trying to hold himself together for her. It was too much for one person to process in a single moment.

“I was researching people like you,” Aoi said, exhaling hard. “I worked under the government’s watch because I didn’t trust them to make the right decisions. If they discovered you, I was afraid they’d take you away. And if I didn’t bring you out into the world myself… I was terrified I wouldn’t know how to handle you.”

He paused, shoulders sinking with the weight of every year that had passed.

“At that time, the Aokigahara Institute felt like the safest option I could give you.”

“Beatrice, of course, never liked the idea,” Aoi continued quietly. “To her, the children were nothing more than test subjects. I suppose that was her flaw—she could never truly see them as human. She didn’t want to give you up because she didn’t want you placed among the kids the lab studied. And… and you were her daughter. No mother ever wants their child taken away from them.”

"Where is she now?" Risa asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"As I mentioned on the tape," Dr. Aoi said, pausing, "she was sent back to America. Beatrice… she was an exchange student here, no relatives, no legal ties. We were never married, so I wasn’t her guardian. When the situation became unmanageable—you know, with the government breathing down my neck, you, and your mother—I had no choice but to leave her in the care of the state. Later, I discovered she was returned to her hometown."

"A-and my… my relatives? Anyone besides my parents?" Kenji’s voice trembled.

Dr. Aoi’s eyes darkened slightly. "We had hoped someone would search for you. An aunt, an uncle, anyone to be informed that you were here. But no one did. Some inquiries were made, but they were purely financial—life insurance matters. Mister Ford, your mother’s former employer, tried to intervene, tried to adopt you. But… nothing worked."

A heavy silence settled over them. Kenji and Risa felt the weight of the past pressing down, uncertain if they even wanted to pry further.

Finally, Risa broke the quiet. "Papa… how was I tied to the opening of the portals?"

Dr. Aoi exhaled slowly, almost as if the answer itself carried a forbidden weight.

"You opened the portal when you were four," Dr. Aoi began, his tone shifting into something clinical, almost haunted. "Small fractures at first—hairline cracks we assumed were just structural anomalies. One day, you threw a tantrum. You kept asking for Gio… he was a staff member assigned to the children. I refused because we were in the middle of a session. Then you lost control."

He swallowed hard.

"The next thing I saw were craters forming in the isolation room. Not dents—craters. We sent multiple teams inside to investigate what was on the other side. It was Tsuyukusa… but wrong. An eerie, hollow reflection of our town."

Risa’s voice sharpened. "So why did you want to kill me?"

Dr. Aoi winced, shame coloring every word. "Because the cracks kept forming even when you weren’t doing anything. But I noticed something: when you were sick, or exhausted, the manifestations weakened. It was as if the portals were tied to your stability… your health."

He hesitated before continuing.

"I thought you died. That’s why the world below went silent. But when it started reacting again, I sent Itsuki and Saburō to find you. And I was right—you were both alive. And the fact that you’d become friends…" He let out a strained, embarrassed laugh. "It made the surveillance easier."

"If I agree to help you, would you kill me this time?" Risa asked, trying to sound braver than she felt.

"No," Dr. Aoi answered firmly. "We’ve found another way. For now, Saburō will escort you both back to your homes. Meet us here tomorrow at 9 a.m. And please—say nothing to anyone."

Kenji and Risa exchanged a tense look before nodding. They both stood, legs shaky, and followed the familiar hallway back toward Saburō’s living room, where he sat waiting for them in silence, eyes already reading the heaviness in their faces.