Emiko tells Tomi how much his father loves him, trying to convince him not to go diving in the ocean today.
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EMIKO
Every time before a soldier leaves on a mission, he writes a letter to those he loves, to be opened if he dies in battle.
(Beat.)
Your father is a soldier, Tomi. And before every mission he writes a letter that he hopes will never be opened. He writes one every day instead of using the same one because every day he has something different to tell you. A different way to say goodbye. When he comes back, he relishes getting to throw away that letter, to put it in the shredder or rip it to pieces, because at least for today, you'll never have to read it.
(Tomi takes the letter.)
Every day.
(Beat.)
Where you're sitting—that's where we have customers put on their equipment. And then we tell them, "Wait for further instruction." So I'm telling you. Wait for your father here. Your instruction is to tell him how much you love him. Don't dive. Don't die. Don't follow me. Just wait.