A/N: This piece was going to be the 's' installment for 'Travels through the Alphabet with Mai'. But it grew and then grew some more. Feedback is great and appreciated.
Sister
One grew accustomed to a particular way of life, whether it was enjoyable or not. And when change arrived, pounding on the door, not everyone wanted to answer. Some preferred to ignore. When Mai learned of her mother's pregnancy, the first thing she thought was 'Will this one stick?' There had been three miscarriages, spaced a few years apart. Each devastated her parents, sent them reeling, left them silent and morose and withdrawn for months.
Mai knew why. They wanted a son. She, their daughter, was not enough. The twelve year old didn't begrudge them a second child. And she sympathized with their pain. She even felt her own pangs of sorrow at the tiny lost children, brothers and sister gone forever, never a chance to experience joy or sadness or laughter. What she resented was the blatant slight against her sex and by default her personhood. Had she been a boy, would her parents try so hard for a second child, take the risks that physicians warned them of? Mai knew the answer and it hurt.
So, the impending birth was not an event Mai anticipated with any happiness. It was a maybe and months away. And should the child survive until birth, and should it be another girl, Mai wondered how her parents would react. She imagined a grim martyrdom.
Either sex, attention would be focused on the infant and not Mai. That would have its advantages. And perhaps, years in the future, Mai would have an ally or, stranger than that, someone she might love and who might love her back. That was fanciful thinking, but it was not impossible.
~~~~0000~~~~
"I heard about your mother," Ty Lee whispered a few days later.
"Does the entire city know?" Tucking a bit of stray hair back into place, Mai rolled her eyes. People seemed to enjoy broadcasting private details of their lives rather than keeping them private. Mai supposed that most would consider such action 'sharing something wonderful with friends and family' rather than boasting. That might be true enough. But couldn't the sharing wait awhile? Couldn't just the three of them know for another few weeks? She hated walking along the neat stone streets, off to school or the palace or someplace less 'proper', and having her parents' friends stop her in mid stride, thoughts elsewhere, to offer congratulations or advice. She needed neither.
The acrobat thought for a moment, quite serious, and replied. "Probably; my mother heard from another mother at my little sister's school. And then your mother told her. Mine pretended that it was new news."
"Smart."
"Well." Ty Lee nudged Mai. "Are you excited?"
"Were you excited when all your little sisters were born?"
"Hmm, I guess not after the second one; but this will be your only brother or sister." She lowered her voice again. "That's what my mother says."
"Yeah, I get it, Ty Lee. I get it. Look, can we talk about something else? Anything else?"
"Sure, Mai, so, my mom said you could come over today and stay for dinner. Do you want to?"
Mai weighed the pros and cons in her head, giving nothing away in her expression. Ty Lee's house was noisy and chaotic and she would be grilled without mercy about her mother and father and the impending birth. But she felt a part of something there. She felt welcome and safe and accepted. Home was quiet. She could creep up to her room and be alone with her thoughts until dinner, also quiet. But there would be little pokes here and there about her future and her prospects, her lack of vapid smiles that apparently, men found so compelling. And Mai did not feel like enduring that.
She shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
~~~~0000~~~~
"Your father was over here the other day. Did you know that, Mai?"
The ebony haired girl inclined her head slightly but said nothing.
"I guess the bun in the oven has him thinking extra hard." Azula paused, giving Mai the opportunity to respond to the crude reference. Mai maintained her silence. "He really wants a better position, something with more responsibility and money, of course." She laughed then. Her smooth voice held cruelty and mockery both. "You should have heard him, Mai. He almost got down on his knees to plead and declare his loyalty and devotion." The princess sneered. "No dignity whatsoever; almost made me sick."
"Then why did you watch?" Mai gave Azula a pointed stare before examining a tiny button on her tunic.
"So I could report to you, of course."
"I don't care what my father does."
"You'll care when he gets a new job, maybe in a different city or even in the Earth Kingdom."
"I'm sure things will be equally boring anywhere, Azula."
"Fine, fine, whatever; I'm just trying to help."
Mai knew with certainty how little Azula ever helped anyone but herself. She just wanted to go home. Ty Lee wasn't around to act as a buffer. One on one encounters with Azula were intense. All of the princess's keen scrutiny was on her and her alone. Keeping that façade of disinterest, that thick outer layer of apathy, was imperative. Mai was skilled and practiced but anyone could slip.
"Azula, I think it's time I went home. My mother's extra needy right now and I don't want a lecture about how I'm not around to adjust the pillows behind her back."
That wasn't exactly a lie, more an exaggeration of the truth.
"Don't let me keep you." Azula was done with her anyway. She'd said what she wanted to.
Mai muttered a goodbye and turned on her heel, walking casually, not wanting to betray her eagerness to leave.
~~~~0000~~~~
Not until she was seven months along, did Mai's mother begin to relax and believe that her baby would be born, alive and healthy and screaming. Then she needed to make up for lost time. The nursery, a room at the end of the hall that had remained closed after her last miscarriage, was opened once more. Cleaned and with a fresh coat of paint, it was time for her to put the finishing touches on the room.
"Mai, dear, do you like this red or this red better?"
"They're red; one is as good as the other."
"That's not what I asked you," the woman huffed, one hand resting proudly on her belly while the other held two scraps of fabric. "Which one do you prefer?"
She wanted an answer so Mai gave her one, pointing to the darker swatch, though really, she could not care less.
"Hmm, I think that's too dark for a baby's room. I'm going with the lighter one."
"Then why did you ask me?" Mai crossed her arms over small breasts and twisted her lips into an approximation of annoyed.
"Oh, stop fussing, Mai. This isn't about you."
"Truest thing you've said for a long time."
"I'll get Eri to help me. It's clear that you're jealous or maybe you're just miserable. Go along to your room, Mai."
"Dismissed," the black haired girl uttered under her breath.
"Don't be late to dinner. Your Uncle Katashi will be there."
"What?" Mai whipped about and glared at her mother. "When were you going to tell me that?"
"Don't be so dramatic. He's in the city for another reason and wrote that he would have time for dinner and nothing else."
"What if I'd missed him?"
"Mai," the woman sighed. "You're not going to miss his visit. I know you love him. I wouldn't let you." She smiled at her daughter. "Katashi would never forgive me. Now go and get washed up and changed."
For the first time in weeks, Mai was excited about something.
~~~~0000~~~~
"You're not happy with the situation, are you, Mai?" Katashi examined her face closely, seeing through its placid exterior and into the confusion and hurt. He placed one huge hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort.
"I don't really care."
"That's not true. Remember who you're talking to."
"It's not that she's having a baby."
"They've wanted this for a long time. Agni knows it's all your mother ever talked about."
"I know. And I'm happy for them. But, I can't help but feel…."
"Cast aside? Is that it? Most families have lots of children, Mai, at least two anyway."
"I was cast aside a long time ago."
"And what, you think the baby will be everything that you aren't? You think he or she will fit the mold that your mother and father wanted you to fit?" Seeing the pain in her eyes, Katashi drew her in for a hug. "You don't know that. If it's a boy, yes, they'll be ecstatic. Fathers seem to want sons. And wives want to please their husbands." Mai scoffed at that notion. "But the baby will be your brother or sister, Mai. You can be a part of his life too. Don't forget that."
"If she lets me near him…"
"And," Katashi reminded her. "You'll have more freedom and less scrutiny. Use that to your advantage." He grinned his feral grin. "Do what pleases you, Mai."
She nodded. "I will."
Mai felt better for the little talk, but the grim pall of uncertainty and unease still darkened her thoughts of the future.
~~~~0000~~~~
Soon after she'd won her struggle to fall asleep, Mai awoke again. The pounding of panicked feet on the steps dragged her up from the deep. Rubbing at weary eyes, the girl sat up and attempted to get her bearings.
"The baby must be coming," she surmised.
Clamoring out of bed, she slipped into a robe and then opened her door a crack, peeking into the murky corridor. Frustrated, she grabbed a set of spark rocks that she kept in her room, stepped outside and lit one of the wall sconces.
At the bottom of the wide staircase, her father and another man, the physician, Mai presumed, were in earnest conversation. She'd never seen her father so agitated or ruffled looking. He waved his arms about and his brown hair stuck out from his head like boarcupine quills and his sleep clothes were in a tangled disarray.
She stepped aside when they mounted the stairs, the physician leading the way, speaking calming words to the distraught man.
"Dad?" She loathed the weakness in her voice, the little tremor that gave away her sense of disquiet.
Mai expected him to order her back to bed. She was shocked when the man grabbed her arm and held on tight, using her for support. "Your mother is having the baby, Mai. The doctor is here and I've sent word to the mid-wife and the wet nurse for later." He grimaced, dragging his free hand through his hair. Then he squeezed tighter. "She's in so much pain. I….it's…"
He really loves her.
It wasn't the hard slap of revelation so much as a soft reminder. Love did exist in this family of hers, however muted.
"She'll be all right, Dad." Mai wondered what she could do to help. "I'll make us some tea. Or, are you going in there." She pointed to her mother's room.
"No, there's no room for a father in the birthing room." He managed a faint smile. "Tea would be nice."
So Mai went down to the kitchen and boiled some water, scooping tea leaves into the tiny metal infuser that sat just under the tea pot's lid. While she waited for the tea to steep, she stared out the huge window that faced the back garden. The soft glow of the city's lanterns hardly touched their private green space. The smell of lavender and mint wafted in with the mild breeze. Mai took two deep breaths and then turned back to the tea.
Her father, even more haggard looking, padded into the kitchen and plopped down on a chair. "The sounds; they're terrible." He stared at her then. "It's been a long time and we were both a lot younger."
Mai strained, listening hard. Her mother's moans and the occasional shriek of pain were muffled by doors and distance, but her agony was impossible to mistake. The girl shuddered and wondered if her future held that kind of pain.
She set a cup down in front of her father and joined him. Mai felt awkward and unsure of what to say. She measured words and phrases carefully in her head, deciding what kind of impact they might have, whether it was worth any grief she might receive to say them.
"What if?"
He jerked his head up and pinned Mai still with fierce eyes. "The baby will live."
"No, Dad, that's not what I meant." Biting the inside of her lip, she gathered her courage. "What if the baby is a girl?"
"It's a boy. I know it." He set his cup down. "Now is not the time for your petty little rebellions, Mai. It's not the time to stir things up."
Such certainty was irrational. He didn't seem to think so. Then again, a girl would be a terrible blow. Healthy or not, that was just not what he wanted. A girl would not carry on his family name. A girl would not make a mark in the world and make him proud like a son would. She railed inside against the ridiculousness of such beliefs. Years of conditioning, years of tradition and custom were difficult to erase. Her father wasn't a bad man. But Mai wondered if he ever considered what those beliefs and ideas meant to Mai, how they affected her. Most likely they were so ingrained in the man as to be reflex. He was supposed to believe such ideas about boys and girls and men and women and so he did. Yet, the Fire Nation was full of women who had jobs and careers and did things other than marry and raise children. There was nothing wrong with either. The freedom to choose was important, not the choice itself. It seemed her parents lagged a bit in their thinking.
"I'm not stirring things up." She stared down into her oolong tea. The colour was like honey but the taste was bitter now. Mai pushed her cup aside. "I'm going for a walk in the garden." The need to be alone with her thoughts overwhelmed the girl.
Her father didn't answer, just watched Mai with a strange expression, sad and regretful almost; but neither reached out with a smile or a touch or a thank you. And when Mai entered the garden and its swallowing darkness, broken only by clusters of fireflies and the light cast from her mother's room, she felt more alone than ever.
~~~~0000~~~~
Closing her eyes made the blackness complete. Mai imagined herself buried beneath the earth, mounds and mounds of soil piled on top of her, smothering and suffocating, all sight and all sound gone, only the feel of cold, damp dirt left to her. The Earth Kingdom people buried their dead. It made sense for them, of course, the people of the earth, that they should be returned there. But Mai found the idea terrifying.
Her life was akin to being buried alive. One day she would dig her way out completely; one day.
She dozed off and on, waking to the occasional piercing scream. Mai's mother was always so dignified and composed, careful what she said and how she said it. She'd been raised that way; a perfect little lady. Childbirth stripped a woman of her dignity it seemed. Her mother's cries were harsh and punctuated by intermittent cursing. Mai had to smile. It was good to hear her mother finally let go.
Dawn came and went and Mai trundled back inside looking for breakfast.
"You don't have to go to school today, Mai."
Her father had not moved from his seat in the kitchen. She gave him a look that said 'Duh!' and grabbed an apple.
"Is it almost over?"
"Almost."
"Mom's okay?"
"Yes, she's all right."
Munching on her apple, Mai paced the kitchen, suddenly full of energy. She felt like a bath too but having one would make her seem a little too indifferent. Sighing, she made do with washing her hands and splashing cold water on her face and neck. Refreshed she sat down across from her father again, relieved when the cook and the maid strode in.
"Oh, you poor dear man; I'll get you some breakfast right away."
Mai's father waved away the woman's concern. "No, more tea is fine."
The well meaning cook turned to Mai then. "What about you, Miss Mai? Are you hungry?"
She nodded. As though it possessed its own sentience, her stomach began to quake and rumble in anticipation of the food. Mai pressed a hand to the flat plane of her middle, trying to quiet it.
"Master Kagome, are you certain I can't make you something? I'm sure it's been a long night. And how is the Mistress doing?" The cook pressed her hands together and glanced up at the ceiling, hoping perhaps to see beyond the plaster and up into Mai's mother's room.
"I said 'no'". The words came out harsh and guttural and the cook, her name was Emiko, flushed before turning away.
She busied herself with lighting the stove and beginning her daily routine. Mai watched the exchange with silence, taking in everyone's expressions and body language, sensing all the repressed emotions. When Emiko placed breakfast in front of Mai, she gobbled it up, grateful for something to do and the food itself.
A newborn's shrill cry broke the awkward silence. Mai's father almost fell of the chair in his haste to get out of the kitchen and up the stairs. The servants beamed as if the sound of a baby turned on some switch inside their heads. Mai took one final bite of her breakfast before folding her hands in her lap. Now it would all begin.
~~~~0000~~~~
There was no need to ask. Her father's face told Mai the story. His eyes sparkled with something Mai had never seen before and what had been fatigue became manic strutting about the house, muttering plans under his breath, stopping every so often to look skyward as if in thanks.
The baby was a boy and he was healthy. He was noisy too and Mai wished he would just shut up. It might be months before she would sleep soundly once more. No one offered to take her upstairs to see the baby or her mother. In fact, everyone seemed to have forgotten about Mai. Other days she would revel in her invisibility, but today it was like the sharpest blade she owned shoved into her guts and then twisted with vicious intent.
Once the physician and midwife left, both bleary eyed and wrung out, Mai climbed the stairs with some trepidation, resting every few steps, debating with herself whether she should continue. She reached the landing, however and Mai could hear faint murmuring, both her mother's and father's voices. The wet nurse stepped out after a few minutes and headed next door to her quarters. Her eyes skipped over the tall, black haired girl.
Mai put a hand against the door. One long, pale finger traced an intricate design in one of the panels; over and over again, she followed its strange path. Then dropping her hand down, she turned the door knob, just a bit, and stared inside.
Her mother looked like she did any other day. Her hair and makeup were perfect, her robe and sash neat. Someone must have fixed her up after the birth.
Figures she would care about that.
But Mai could see strain around her eyes and darkish circles too. The woman was exhausted. In her arms was a tightly wrapped bundle. Mai's father sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the baby almost reverently.
"He's perfect, Akira. Think of the future he'll have."
"Yes, Hoshi, he's perfect." Her smile took too much effort and her eyes drooped. "Take him, please. Put him in the bassinet." Mai's mother passed the child off to her husband. He carried the baby, ill at ease, and placed him down on soft blankets, taking one last look before he left the room. "Mai," the man exclaimed when he walked toward the door. "You have a brother."
"I figured."
"Your mother has been through a lot. Perhaps it's best if you leave now."
"Let her in, Hoshi. It's all right."
She must be feeling extra motherly.
"Just a few minutes, Mai; no more."
~~~~0000~~~~
Drawn by the soft hiccoughing sound the baby now made, Mai eased her way over to the bassinet. There rested her brother, the one thing both her parents had desired for years. He was a bit of a disappointment; red-faced and cranky looking, hardly any hair. The baby gazed up, his eyes unfocused.
"What's his name?"
"Tomohiro." Mai's mother slurred the name, so tired she could hardly speak.
Once the sound of soft snoring emanated from the bed, Mai indulged in a closer look. She put her face down and examined the infant. Her opinion shifted a bit. He was perhaps, a little bit cute. Stroking his cheek, Mai spoke.
"You're what they've waited for. They'll lavish you with everything. I'd better make sure you don't become too much of a brat." Mai let out a puff of air. "I hope you can take the pressure. And I hope that maybe, one day, we'll be friends. I don't think we'll see much of each other at first. So…" Mai felt silly for talking aloud to her brother. And she felt a heavy sense of melancholy too. "So….good luck." Brushing her lips against downy skin, she kissed his forehead. "I'll be looking out for you."
Mai glided out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She headed toward her own room and a warm bath and a much needed nap. Filled with thoughts of now and the future, Mai's mind spun in crazy circles.
Soaking in the water, submerged but for her face, Mai permitted her limbs to relax. Her brain followed and soon only the pleasant sensation of heat registered. Outside her door one little boy had brought changes into her life, some she could anticipate and others unknown. But that could wait. Right now, Mai needed to sleep. She stepped out of the tub and dried off. Dragging a light nightgown over her head Mai crawled into bed.
The room was brilliant with morning light. Grumbling, Mai buried her face in a pillow and drifted off with startling speed. Her dreams were vivid, full of hopes and fears and a baby named Tomohiro.