Author's Note: This piece had me in tears while I was writing it. Maybe I am just too sensitive. Who can really say? I really love this little girl of his; she seems so darling. Did you know she wants to be a ballerina? Also, the entire story is not only written in English, but spoken in English, except for a few very obvious words near the end that I translated just in case. You should understand why fairly quickly. Normally, though, when I am writing fiction, I intend for it to be more like translated Japanese. Does that make any sense? Probably not... Anyway, perhaps I should clarify now that there aren't any intended Mori/Honey implications in this because, quite frankly, that pairing has never made much sense to me. ..;;
"Papa, when is Uncle Takashi going to get here?"
"Soon, soon, Mi-chan."
"But that's what you said the last time I asked." The pair of them were seated at the window, peering through the curtains expectantly, though Minato was certainly much more visibly excited than her father. Her small fingers never stopped clutching the curtain nor ever let it fall before the window for more than a second before she was peeking around it again.
"Well, that just means 'soon' isn't here, yet." Mitsukuni smiled warmly at his daughter who had the same sort of patience as he did when he was younger. Had it really been so long ago, though? Here she was, already just turned seven, and he twenty-seven. It had been almost ten years since he had moved so very far from Japan and settled quietly in the United States, marrying young and fathering young, but hardly having been happier. Of course he missed his friends from school, his cousin Takashi especially, as well as all of the times they had together as the host club. Still, as near as the past seemed, he knew that it really had been a very long time. The only one he ever spoke to at length anymore was Takashi, but that was because they had never known a life without the other. Occasionally he would speak to Kyouya, who kept in touch for business rather than personal reasons nowadays, and sometimes Haruhi, who was simply good about keeping up with everyone even though she had married completely outside of the club. Her wedding was actually the last time he had managed to make it to Japan, and that had been the year before his daughter was born...
"I see a car! Papa! Papa!" Minato Haninozuka was filled to the bursting point with her excitement. She was jumping and shouting and creating quite a fuss. Mitsukuni only laughed as he tried his best to contain her, wrapping secure arms around her entire frame until she finally stopped squirming. "Papa, is it him?"
"I can't say for sure until we look and see." Her bright brown eyes shone up at him without a hint of doubt. She just knew it was Uncle Takashi because it could be no one else: he was the only visitor they were expecting. She pulled relentlessly at her father's arms, but he did not let her go: instead, he shifted to take her hand and allowed her to lead the way to the door.
Her frantic grabs for the doorknob were all in vain, her small and shaking hands unable to get a proper grip on it, and eventually Mitsukuni managed to get her settled enough to agree to let him open the door when the time came. They waited, breath held and eyes fixed on each other, for the inevitable knock on the door. At the first sound, Minato squealed and Mitsukuni smiled broadly. Then his hand unlocked the door and reached to pull it open if only so Minato could leap onto an unsuspecting body on the other side of the door.
"I am very glad to see you too, Mi-chan," Takashi said warmly, a smile in his voice and on his face. Though he held onto his honorary niece, his eyes fell onto his cousin's face, and the two shared a quiet, melancholy moment between them before Minato picked her head up again.
"Uncle Takashi, did you bring me anything from Japan?"
"Ah, Minato," Mitsukuni scolded, "that isn't polite."
"It's all right, Mitsukuni. She has been waiting for a very long time."
Minato's father could only sigh and invite Takashi in. He watched the pair of them as Takashi gently set Minato back down onto the floor before he stepped over the threshold. He slipped out of his shoes before doing anything else and smiled to see that life in America hadn't broken Mitsukuni of even the simplest of Japanese customs. He slid comfortably into the house slippers that had been left for him and then immediately went for the single suitcase he had brought with him. From it, after some digging, he pulled the small gift he had gotten for Minato. It was a small red kimono patterened with ornate white silhouettes of fans.
"Ahh! Uncle Takashi, thank you! It's so beautiful!" Minato's eyes were wide and fixed unwaveringly on the cloth, admiring the way the silk shimmered dully under the light. "Papa, can I put it on now?"
"Perhaps we should wait. I think it would be a nice outfit to wear tonight."
Minato then nodded just once in agreement, her demeanor changing in the same drastic way as an old friend Mitsukuni used to know. "You're right, Papa. I think Mama would love to see me in this."
Mitsukuni gave a nod of his own that wasn't nearly as confident as the one his daughter had given him. "Still, why don't you go lay it out on your bed so that it doesn't stain or wrinkle."
"Yes, Papa! I will try to find shoes to match it, too!"
"Good idea, Mi-chan." Mitsukuni smiled softly to himself as she ran up the stairs, nearly tripping over the new kimono in her hurry. Once she was safely on the second floor, Mitsukuni awaited the sound of her bedroom door closing before he looked to Takashi again. "Let me make you some tea. You have had a long trip and need to rest."
Takashi responded to him in the same stoic fashion as always, but followed him readily as Mitsukuni led the way into the kitchen. He gestured to the breakfast table for Takashi to sit while he went about making the tea, but the pair didn't speak at all until he was finished and already bringing it to the table.
"I envy her sometimes, Takashi. She is too young to truly understand, I think."
"I disagree. She understands very well, but she has accepted it much more quickly than you have."
"Still..."
Takashi laid a gentle hand over his cousin's, waiting for his eyes to look up from his teacup before speaking. It took a long while. "It is okay to hurt, Mitsukuni. No one expects you not to."
Mitsukuni could feel the tears welling up despite himself and his best efforts. It had only been a week since her death and he hadn't yet mourned for the sake of protecting Minato. He didn't want her to see him so weak, especially during a time she was supposed to need him the most. But she seemed so unaffected — as if Mama would be coming through the door at any moment to see her dancing in her new kimono. "Takashi, I miss her so much."
Takashi said nothing and for once it actually bothered Mitsukuni a little. He wanted words of comfort; he wanted something to be said that would just fix everything.
He was crying when Minato came down the stairs. He heard her footsteps fall short of reaching the table, halting suddenly. Mitsukuni couldn't look up, though, wracked with the grief that had been threatening to spill over for days. He was embarrassed that his daughter should see him like this, but was surprised by the gentle touch that lighted on his arm beside Takashi's hand.
Mitsukuni looked up, then, tears still streaming and eyes watery and reddened. They fell immediately upon the small girl beside him who looked back with wisdom that far exceeded her years. "It's okay, Papa," she said, keeping her voice light and soothing. For a fleeting moment, Mitsukuni could hear quite a bit of her mother in the tone she used. "I'm glad that you're crying."
"Glad?" Mitsukuni worked to recompose himself, but the tears would not stop. He settled for simply pulling his daughter into his lap and she came readily. "Mi-chan, why would you say such a thing?"
"Because I was worried that you didn't miss Mama. Because I never saw you sad."
"Mi-chan, of course I miss Mama. I miss her every day that she's gone."
"I miss Mama, too." Minato was finally showing that her father's tears were affecting her: she had started to cry herself at almost the precise moment she had gotten into his lap.
"She is still watching over us, though. She can still hear the things we say to her, and she still loves us very much." Minato didn't answer this time, now crying too hard to be able to. Mitsukuni was finally feeling a bit of relief from his own tears, but it broke his heart to see his daughter this way. He held her close, keeping his eyes shut and his arms securely around her as if death were trying to pull her from him as well. The pair stayed that way for a very long time, until finally the time had come for them to leave.
"Mi-chan, did you find shoes to match your new kimono?" Mitsukuni asked, still wiping stray tears from his daughter's face with his thumbs. She nodded sadly, a frown still present and small fists rubbing at her eyes. "Then hurry upstairs and change. If we don't leave for the temple now, we'll be late, and you know how Mama is always scolding us for being late." Minato nodded again, but didn't seem quite convinced, though she did as she was told.
"She has been left in expert hands," Takashi said, watching the girl as she headed back to her bedroom to dress. Mitsukuni looked to his cousin in slight confusion. "She could not have a better father."
"Takashi, you pick strange times for flattery."
"Perhaps."
The pair of them were silent until Minato came back down, needing help tying her sash. Mitsukuni kneeled down beside her. "Thank you, Papa."
"You look beautiful, Mi-chan."
She smiled at her father, then looked to Takashi, giving a gentle, but rather deep bow of thanks. "I am very humbled by your gift, Uncle Takashi. Doumo arigatou gozaimashita." ["Thank you very much." A/N: Though it is an extremely polite way to say it.]
"Douitashimashite," Takashi replied, giving a light bow in return. ["You are welcome."]
Mitsukuni and Takashi both gave warm laughs at Minato's speech, her father pushing a loving kiss to her cheek. "I'm glad that you are remembering your Japanese manners, Mi-chan."
"Yes," Takashi agreed. "You are very polite."
"Well," Mitsukuni said, "Uncle Takashi and I must dress and then we will be off, okay?"
"Yes, Papa." Mitsukuni pulled her in for a last, long embrace before he stood again to go change. Takashi stayed and kept Minato company until he and Mitsukuni could trade places.
Mitsukuni watched his daughter twirling in her new kimono and smiled despite himself. While he certainly wasn't looking forward to his wife's funeral, the pain of it was far less severe than it had been before. Takashi still had a knack for knowing just how to fix things, even though they hardly saw each other anymore. He knew that he would never convince him to move here to the United States, so he wondered briefly if it would be fair to relocate Minato to Japan. But, then, they would be so very far from the woman that had brought them together.