Her Family

"Are you sure you want to do this?" her voice-of-reason chimed. Was it her conscious?

No. It was just Haruka, of course.

"Yes," she exhaled in reply, "I've waited long enough already."

He cupped his pointer finger and thumb to his chin—considering the fact. "Well, it has been two years," he pondered, "but are you sure you're really ready for this?"

She gave a frustrated sigh. He'd been excessively checking with her from the moment he'd heard about today's planned events. "Yes," she said once more, sounding annoyed and adamant, "now stop asking."

He knew her answer would be as much. She would never admit when something was too much for her—much less, something like this. Gazing up and over his shoulder at her, from the wheelchair he sat in, Haruka looked at her with a reassuring expression. "No one's forcing you, Takane."

She seemed bothered by his statement. "I know—and no one's going to," she said, sounding resentful. "So I might as well, just… come to terms with them now."

—Them.

Her parents, that was.

Today was the first day she'd be seeing her mother and father, after the long absence she'd taken from her physical life. She'd yet to try and make contact with them before this point; how did one really go about explaining a story like her's? She'd since found out, however—that her renewed existence was easier explained than Haruka's.

As she was never confirmed dead, "Takane Enomoto" had only ever been reported missing, and presumed dead. She'd been kidnapped by Kenjirou's snake, as opposed to Haruka, who died while in the hospital; his life was confirmed as passed. In the end, she alone was back in society now, reported to have amnesia after "mysteriously" reappearing (such was the story they were going with, at least.) It was an an annoying process, one she hardly wanted to deal with, but Haruka asked her to make the effort.

On the contrary, she almost felt selfish for living such a life again, when Haruka couldn't. But she knew one of them had to have been able to participate in society—how else would they support each other? That was what their jobs now, after all.

To support one another.

Having long since told one another how they really felt, Haruka and Takane had been living happily together as a couple for the past two years. Perhaps it wasn't a normal situation, but neither would've traded it for the world.

He however, felt somewhat useless to Takane; she was the one always providing for him. Even if he were "alive" again, he knew there wouldn't be much he could do for her regardless. Given his weak health, he was still somewhat helpless. Regardless, as he sat in that wheelchair, he reached back, placing his hand over hers as she gripped the chair's handlebars.

Perhaps there wasn't much he could give Takane, but he'd always, always give her his support.

"I know you're nervous," he said, though sounding entirely understanding, "but I'll be with you the whole time. Don't worry, okay?"

Her palm tensed slightly. She said nothing in return, but instead, only gripped his hand back.


She'd gotten in contact with her father via e-mail a week or so back. Well, she, personally, had. Surely, her parents had been notified of her existence by officials otherwise. Yet, until a week ago, she'd not heard from them at all. Takane was the one who had to make the effort. That, alone, was enough to tie her stomach in knots.

To say Takane had a rough relationship with her parents was an understatement.

They were around for her early life, but after elementary school, their jobs took them away over-seas (thus was the reason she lived with her grandmother.) Well, at least, that's what they'd always said, but after rarely getting visits, or even calls from them—she'd concluded there was more to it than that. As much as it hurt her to think on, she knew the truth.

Her parents were both successful business partners; they ran their own company. They were higher members of society. People like her parents did not want to deal with an imperfect daughter, a daughter who was not what they'd always envisioned. A girl not stereotypically beautiful, feminine, outgoing, etcetera. They did not want a daughter plagued by an illness—certainly one they'd already had enough of dealing with by the time she was ten.

They'd never said any of this to her, no, but this was how Takane felt from the bottom of her heart. She'd started to realize such at a young age. They did nothing to care for her condition. They kept her inside, preventing her from running and having fun like a normal child. That was how they dealt with her Narcolepsy. Since then, she found it hard to be anything but suspicious of their love.

In the end, regardless of why—they'd left her alone.

Given their recent behavior as well—knowing she was alive again without movement to see her—she'd concluded those feelings extended to now. But she had to do this, she was going to be the responsible one. So there they stood, in front of Takane's parents new house. They'd since moved back to Japan after her disappearance. Huh—convenient, right?

"Ahh… this house looks so big," Haruka marveled, looking up at the top story. He laughed a little bit, trying to lighten the mood, "Maybe you can sweet-talk your parents into throwing us some money, too!"

"Like hell," she muttered, putting down his cheerful mood—walking past him to ring the door bell. He was unfazed, however, as he only gave a weak smile to the girl as she stepped back to his side.

"It's going to be okay," he said suddenly, "I promise." She looked to him, though without time to respond. The front door opened. Surely enough, there was the "familiar" face of her mother. She was a middle aged woman. Her hair was the same color and texture as Takane's. Haruka couldn't help but notice how similar they looked. They even had the same "unpleasant" eyes.

Despite nothing unpredictable happening, Takane was stunned. She couldn't even stutter out a few words; she was silent.

"Hello, Takane," her mother finally said. Her expression was blank, if anything at all.

Such a cold, emotionless greeting got to the shorter girl. She could already feel the painful, familiar sensation writhing in her heart. "A—ah, uh…" she stuttered out—thoughts blank under that stare.

Haruka, feeling awkward and uncomfortable in this suddenly-tense atmosphere, resorted to his usual method of coping; he smiled. Covering for the girl at his side, he gave a cute wave. "Hi there!"

The woman looked down at him, as if noticing him for the first time. She didn't seem impressed. Was it the strange "tattoo" under his eye, he wondered? Regardless, she asked, "And, you are?"

"Ah-aha! I'm Haruka! Takane's boyfriend," he said cheerfully—happy to call himself such on any occasion. He looked to the girl at his side. "Gee—you didn't tell them about me, Takane?" he teased her, trying to lighten the mood even still.

"Ah, no—she did mention she was bringing a boy," her mother corrected, "I should have assumed she'd be with someone… like you." Those words sounded bitter, just like her stare—but that gaze was not directed at Haruka himself, and instead, towards the wheelchair he sat in.

Haruka tilted his head, confused—but Takane instantly picked up on her mother's true meaning. Finally thinking she found her voice, the younger girl hissed, "You—"

"—Regardless," her mother cut her off, turning and walking back, "your father's waiting."

Takane said nothing, but Haruka felt her tense, now frustrated disposition. Her fists were clenched, she didn't look at him. "Takane?" he said in concern. Her only response was to (less-than gently) take the wheelchair's handle bars in her palms again, leading both of them inside.

"I knew this was a bad idea," she muttered.

He held a weak expression. Today was not off to a good start.


The four of them sat together on her parents' back porch; Takane's reunion with her father was as cold and harsh as it was with her mother. There was not so much as a handshake exchanged between them, much less an embrace, tears, or anything otherwise. Formal introductions were given, along with a few empty words. At this point, however, Takane only acted bitterly, basking in her resentful feelings. Her parents gazed at the two before them, as if coming to preemptive conclusions and analyzations. Haruka, of course, only smiled the entire time. No, not because he was happy, He just knew Takane needed that now.

The conversation hadn't had much content, until her father finally asked, "So, Takane, you've been back in commission for two years, you say. What all have you done since then?"

The annoyed glare on her face grew harsher; she didn't look at her parents when she spoke. "I live with Haruka. I have a part-time job," a weak and dismissive statement. Before they could even prod about money, Takane interjected, "We get by."

"Have you thought about going back to school at all?" her mother inquired instantly. Takane should've known that question was coming as well. "You didn't finish high school."

"No," Takane replied bluntly, almost laughing without humor, "not smart enough for that."

"Hm," her father muttered. Takane could hear the judgement even in that small sound. Her parents took her attitude with a grain of salt, however, as she'd always been her moody self. Clearly, they were not any more accepting of her personality than they'd always been. Her father looked to the young man at Takane's side, soon asking, "And, what do you do, Haruka?" Both he and Takane tensed up.

"Ah, uhm…" He looked to the bag hanging from his wheelchair. Not letting the question stump him, he took the orange-and-black sketch pad out, holding it out to them. "I draw!"

Her father took it, soon flipping through the endless pages. Takane looked disinterested, Haruka was anxiously awaiting his analysis. "You're talented," her father finally said, handing the book back to him. To that, Takane actually perked up a bit, in league with the pleased expression now on Haruka's face. Both of those moods faded, however, as her mother just had to comment.

"For a cripple."

That statement caught both of them off guard. "Ah… I-I—?" Haruka laughed a bit—uncomfortable, though not injured from the comment. He'd never cared what anyone said about him in regards to his health, of course—though he was surprised with just how forward she'd phrased it.

Takane, however, was not quite as passive.

With fists clenched tight, she rose from the chair she sat in. She glared at them through her unpleasant eyes, her teeth gritted. "Haruka is not a cripple!"

"He's in a wheelchair," her mother said, as if Takane hadn't noticed—as if Haruka couldn't hear them.

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"How can someone who can't even walk on their own support you, Takane?" her father asked. If Takane didn't know any better, she'd almost think that was a statement of concern. She brushed off the thought, however, even laughing in her mind. She concluded he was saying it more in-hopes of making her feel inadequate for being with him.

"He can walk," she hissed. Blatantly stating the truth, however ambiguously, she said, "He's stronger than you'll ever be. He just—!"

"—Takane," that gentle voice finally cut in. She felt Haruka's palm in her own, to which she calmed slightly. She looked back to him, the expression on his face asking her to calm and sit down. She obliged him, doing so. "It's alright."

He gazed back to her parents, an abnormally understanding expression on his face. "I know you must be worried about your daughter being with someone like me," he finally said, confronting the fact, "but Takane and I have been though… a lot, together," there was a pause—as he thought on the many, many things they'd been through (surely, none of which he could really say.) "We always take care of one another. And…" Still holding Takane's hand in his, his gentle grip was the slightest bit tighter. "I really do love her."

Takane just blinked, perhaps never truly used to him saying such bold things—but also, that he'd just said it to her parents. Despite how honest and sincere his words were, they didn't look impressed.

There was a long pause, ever-judging stares piercing them. Haruka might've been impervious, but Takane just held her breath. Finally, her parents perked up with their own opinions. "Pursuing love, living in your childish ideals," her mother said, "Something so tragic happens to you, and this is how you deal with it afterwords?"

Her father concluded, "You need to be getting your life together, Takane."

And that was when she'd snapped. She'd had enough.

"And like I have all the luxury in the world to do that! Who's gonna help, my precious mommy and daddy!?" she shouted, rising to her feet again, slamming her fists on the table they sat at. Haruka flinched slightly, but her parents only looked stern, if unfazed at all.

"Calm down," was all her father said, purposefully ignoring her statement. But she was in too deep at this point. Finally, she'd confronted the real reason she was there today; the truth they were all thinking, but hadn't said.

"I was missing for two years!" she vented. "I could've been lost, or abducted! I could've been dead!" Her words were laced with pain, and anyone could've heard it. "Did you ever bother to find me?!" she asked. Of course, there would be no one to find in her situation—but that wasn't the point. She knew they'd never made the effort regardless. On the verge of angry tears, she asked, "Do you even care that I'm here now?!"

At that, the expression on her parents faces faded from judging and critical stares. To sadness? No. To emptiness. To nothing at all. It made Takane's heart hurt in a familiar way. A feeling she'd come to know all too well, as a child. That was the same look they had back then, when they found out she was narcoleptic, and every time she passed out after—and every time she'd let them down.

"You're worthless," said Takane.

And they took those words. Takane knew they deserved them, they knew they deserved them. But in the end, they did what they always did. Nothing at all.

Haruka gazed at the fuming girl. Seeing past her anger, he reached out slightly. All he wanted in that moment was to put a stop to these resurfaced feelings, but before he could think of doing anything, Takane walked behind him, taking the wheelchairs handlebars again. She turned the chair towards the door. Clearly, they were leaving.

"W-wait—!" Haruka tried to stop her. She didn't respond however. Over his shoulder, he looked back at her parents. Still, they sat there, together, intentionally oblivious to their hurting child. They did absolutely nothing as she walked away. Nothing at all.


"A-ah… Takane?" Haruka finally said, as they still found themselves on the walk home. He'd decided it might've been a better idea to let her calm down a bit first, but it'd been a whole fifteen minutes, and her aggressive mood had yet to cease. In fact, she only seemed more tense than before. "You—"

"—Don't talk to me right now," she cut him off, not wanting to hear anything he had to say.

"I know you're upset, but—"

She clenched the handlebars tighter, "—I said I don't wanna talk about it, damn it!"

He entertained a weak expression. "Please, just—!"

"—Shut up already!"

He hated having to resort to being as stubborn as her—but he also knew, that was the only solution in cases like this. Entirely out of concern, Haruka finally put his foot down—and quite literally at that. He stopped the wheelchair in its tracks. It came to an abrupt and unpleasant halt. Just as abruptly, he stood up, turning to face her. Hoping to calm her, he stepped towards the substantially shorter girl, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Please…" he asked her, looking to her with his doe-like eyes, "please, calm down."

Perhaps it was just the comforting feeling of Haruka's hands on her shoulders, but she didn't argue this time. That didn't mean her frustration was gone in any sense. No, it was still there—and it was long since accompanied by her familiar, hurting heart.

"I hate this," she said.

Her fists were clenched, she felt tears burning in her eyes. Great, she was crying now, too. She looked down at the ground, quivering. Her raging façade soon broke down; she was only melancholic. "Why…?" she finally asked. Her voice was so weak, pleading for an answer.

"Why doesn't my family love me?"

His expression grew even weaker. It was truly hard for him to smile right now. That was a rare thing. "They do," —he wanted so much to say. But in the end, he couldn't. Not a single thing he'd seen or heard from her parents at this point led Haruka to believe that was the case. It hurt him so much to think about. He could only imagine how it made her feel.

Instead of ushering empty, predictable words words—he wrapped his arms around her tiny figure. He pulled her close and hugged her tight. Takane was almost caught off guard, he wasn't normally so bold. Regardless, she returned the gesture, slowly raising her arms to embrace him too. She let her strong façade down for the one person she knew she could. She huffed and sniffled against his chest; he nuzzled his cheek to the top of her head.

The air was quiet on this empty suburban street. Perhaps a few pedestrians passed them—giving odd looks towards the embracing couple. But if either Takane or Haruka noticed, neither cared. The only on Takane's mind was her parents, and the only thing on Haruka's mind was Takane. He wanted her to rid her of any troubles, unhappiness, and pain she'd ever felt. As if on queue, it led him to think a single, powerful thought. It wasn't the first time he'd thought it either.

Still holding her, however, he didn't think twice before voicing this thought now.

"I'll be your new family, okay?"

Hearing those words, Takane's tears slowed. Unsure if she'd heard him right, she only asked, "…W-what?"

"I'll be your new family," he repeated. Gently, Haruka pulled back in the slightest—just enough to look her in the eye. Despite the melancholic mood both had been brought to, he smiled at her, for her, because of her. Just like he'd always had.

"Let's get married, Takane."

It took her a moment to process his words, but naturally, when she did, she shouted, "W-what?!"

He laughed.

"Y-you—!" she stuttered—her heart racing just like her embarrassed high school days. "You want, to…?!" she could hardly repeat it. "You want to get married?!"

Again he laughed, getting a flashback to her easily flustered nature. She'd mostly grown out of it at this point—or at least, when it was just the two of them like this. Regardless, it made the situation that much more endearing. "I do," he replied, "I can't really see myself being with anyone else at this point." He tilted his head a bit. "Can you?"

She didn't need to ponder his words to know the answer. She was shy, but she shook her head slightly. He exhaled, seeming relieved. At the cute gesture, Takane looked away, fidgeting slightly. "You're… you're not just asking to make me feel better, right?"

Were it anyone else, they might've felt hurt from such an accusation—but Haruka understood Takane's cautious nature full-well. "Of course not." He seemed shy, but soon added, "I was… I was actually hoping I could ask for your parents permission eventually, but—" he paused, both understanding his meaning. She looked pained once again, that is, until he concluded with, "The only person who's permission I want now is yours."

Her heart nearly skippted a beat. Haruka could feel her tiny hands clutch the fabric of his cardigan. His expression eventually softened, he brought one hand up to her face—brushing her long and uncut bangs out of the way. He placed his palm to her cheek and looked in her eyes.

"Will you marry me, Takane?"

After holding her breath for a few moments, she muttered, "Idiot," somewhat predictably. The twin-tailed girl closed her eyes, resting against his palm slightly—enjoying the feeling of his hand on her face. While her simple insult was enough of a confirmation for Haruka to understand—she concluded, "Do you really have to ask?"

There was a new light in Haruka's expression. "Really?" he asked, finding himself extensively surprised, even when having predicted her answer. She nodded. The smile she'd seen a million times before manage to find a new sort of sunniness. She'd dare say, she'd never seen him so overwhelmingly joyous. It was enough to make her smile too. He leaned down slightly, pressing his lips to her forehead in a gentle—very "Haruka-like" kiss. Takane even giggled a bit, he embraced her tightly once more.

"Thank you, Takane," he whispered to her, "I've never been happier in my life."

She was silent for a moment, shaking her head. "I'm the one who should be thanking you," she finally confessed. "Thank you—for…" she swallowed, finding her feelings hard convey, but wanting to tell him from the bottom of her heart, "for being my real family."

He nuzzled her again, as if reassuring her that were the case. "I'll always be here for you, Takane. For the rest of our lives. I promise." He put his hand to the back of her head, patting her gently.

"I know you will," she said, feeling now-joyous tears gathering in her eyes again. They didn't threaten to fall, however, until Haruka reassured her of a final fact.

"I'll always take care of you."

She felt a strange sensation in her heart, one not unfamiliar. The longing and resentfulness her parents had left her was still there, and it might never leave. But with a sensation like this one, she knew she could bare it. As it had many times before, her love for Haruka would get her past what ever life threw at her.

"I know you will."