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Coda Three: Role Model

Shizuka put down the phone and stared at it. Yet another call in which her brother palmed her off with half-truths. She would have been insulted at how weak they were getting, except that she'd heard the tightness in his voice and backed off after it snapped like a piece of brittle wire. Once upon a time she would have been devastated by his reaction, but today she was more worried about him than herself and her own hurt feelings. She was keyed into his changing moods far more than she had been when they were kids. Back then she'd thought he was always so strong. Nowadays she knew that wasn't always the case, however much he tried to hide the fact he was only human.

Recently she only had to mention Mai for him to jump in with some excuse. Mai was out of town. Mai was on vacation. Mai was duelling overseas. Mai was visiting family. That last one was especially upsetting since Shizuka knew Mai had no family.

Mai had confessed this piece of information not long after she woke up on Kaiba's blimp. She had dozed off – despite just coming out of a coma she'd been incredibly tired – and Shizuka's own head had just nodded onto her chest when Mai sat bolt upright in the bed, shiny with sweat and breathing like she'd run a marathon. Her skin had been icy to the touch. Shizuka had wanted to call for help, but Mai had insisted she was fine.

"Just a … a bad dream," she'd said. "I've had it before." She sounded surprised, as if she hadn't expected to have it again.

"Do you want to talk about it? When I have nightmares they don't leave my head until I talk with my mom and tell her what's on my mind." Shizuka had flushed, wondering what impression Mai had of her mother. The only impression her new friends had was a woman who had chosen one child over the other and left her son with an abusive father. Shizuka wanted to put them straight, but didn't know how to make them understand: her mother wasn't evil, she was just … she had been put in an impossible situation and made the wrong choices. That wasn't evil. That was just human.

For a long time Shizuka hadn't wanted to contact her brother to tell him about how much her eyes had deteriorated, in case he wanted nothing more to do with her. She'd been scared he would resent her for being the one their mother chose to keep. She had been relieved to find he didn't hold a grudge, and then even more guilty for ever doubting him. He may have changed since she saw him last, but he was still her precious, overprotective Big Brother. Opening her eyes for the first time to see him swinging across the dock on a chain only confirmed that. Likewise when he ran out onto the duelling field to save Mai from Malik's attack.

Saying Mai meant a lot to her brother was like saying the Bermuda Triangle was a little bit mysterious. Mai was good for him, too. She gave as good as she got and made an effective foil for his rambunctious personality. Mai was too competent not to be taken seriously, but she wasn't serious like Seto Kaiba or even Bakura. Mai knew how to have fun, and had a wicked side Shizuka wished she could emulate half as well. Her brother clearly adored Mai, so Shizuka had wanted to make sure she was okay after her terrible ordeal on the airship. Listening to a bad dream seemed the least she could do.

However, Mai had shaken her head. "Just give me a minute. I'll be fine. As soon as I swap back my heart for this hummingbird's, that is." Her wry smile hadn't fooled Shizuka. Mai had apparently known this, too, because she'd added, "I never got into that whole 'talk out your problems' thing. Talk is cheap when it comes to troubles. I never liked it much."

"Not even with your mom?"

"My family died a long time ago."

"Ohmygosh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean –"

"It's okay. Really. We weren't close. Not the way you and your mom are, to hear you talk."

Shizuka had dropped her eyes and wished fervently that it didn't feel so inappropriate to love her mom these days. It never used to feel like she was doing something wrong. Being back in her brother's life had brought heartache as well as joy.

Their mother had done all she could to raise Shizuka properly; to keep her happy and healthy, and to teach her right from wrong. Nothing could ever erase what she'd done to her son, but she'd made sure her daughter was all right, and often sacrificed her own happiness and wellbeing for it. Nobody knew about the arthritis in her left wrist and fingers, which had grown steadily worse over the years but been left untreated because all their money funnelled into a fund for Shizuka's many eye operations. Nobody knew how often they'd dined on inexpensive rice noodles and ramen, or how rarely they'd had meat to keep living costs low; or how the hem on Shizuka's school skirt had been let down so many times there were no stitches left to unpick. It had seemed like scoring points for Shizuka to call attention to these things after her brother paid those staggering medical bills with his prize money; as if she was belittling what he'd done by trying to force him to forgive their mother for the unforgiveable.

Shizuka had been thinking these things, elbows slowly straightening and hands balling into fists in her lap, when Mai broke into her thoughts with a light touch on her knee. Shizuka had snapped her gaze up and immediately apologised for zoning out.

"Don't say you're sorry when there's nothing to feel sorry for. You look exhausted. When was the last time you slept?"

"I'm all right."

"You're not, but you won't admit it – just like your dunderheaded brother."

Somehow, when Mai call him names, it never sounded like she was insulting him. Shizuka had never known name-calling could sound affectionate until she met Mai.

There were worse things than to want to be more like Mai Kujaku.

Except that after Battle City, Shizuka had never seen Mai again. At first she hadn't been worried: Mai didn't live in Domino or Tokyo, so it made sense that neither Shizuka nor her brother would see her regularly. Mai worked as a professional duellist, so she was bound to move around a lot.

But then Shizuka finally did ask her whereabouts, and the excuses started. With them came an unsettling sense that her brother was hiding something, and Shizuka no longer knew him well enough to know what questions would make him open up that much. Their sibling relationship had suffered during the years of separation. Though they'd made headway, and sometimes had flashes of insight that could only come with age, they were nowhere near as familiar with each other as they'd been as children.

She continued to stare at the phone, eventually heaving a sigh and rising to her feet. Her stomach rumbled, so she went through to the kitchen, where her mother had her head in a cupboard. She had to stretch up to reach a box of rice crackers. Shizuka frowned; had her mom always been that short? And what about those grey hairs swirling out from the parting at the back of her skull – had they always been there?

Her mother didn't look around as she asked, "Who was that, sweetheart?"

"Big Brother," Shizuka said without thinking.

Her mother froze for a half-second, but then shook it off. "Is he all right?" She almost kept the hint of guilt and longing from her voice. Almost. She regretted what she'd done when they were kids. That was one of the hardest parts of this whole thing: knowing a bond had been shattered that needn't have been, and hadn't even come close to healing. despite the years that had passed.

And why should her mother – their mother – expect forgiveness? She had done a terrible thing. There was no denying it. She had done what no parent should ever do: she had failed to protect her child.

Impulsively, Shizuka wrapped her mother in a hug. She squawked, hit the counter with her hip, and flailed uncomprehendingly until she realised she wasn't about to fall over after all. "Um, sweetheart? Shizuka? Is everything okay?" She paused. Shizuka felt her breathe in before asking, "Is something wrong with Katsuya?"

"He's fine."

"Oh."

"Except –" Shizuka stopped. She bit her lip. It wasn't her place to tell her brother's secrets – especially to their mother, of all people. He had never actually come out and said it, but Shizuka knew he was very close to hating their mother, which was awful on so many levels.

"Shizuka, please, if he's hurt or in trouble, I want you to tell me."

But you didn't seem to care for so long. You said he got into trouble because he was a screw-up. You said we had to stay apart because he was a bad influence – because he was just like Daddy. Shizuka remembered how her mother had been at the hospital, cursing her son when he was late and an easy target, even though she hadn't seen him in an age. It was wrong of her to use him that way, as an object on which to vent her own frustration, pain and fear. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right that even when he was doing right, their mother made him feel like he was doing wrong.

But the look in her mother's eyes now was one of unabashed concern. She looked like she did care about her son, and at the same time knew she didn't really have the right to anymore. It was a hesitant emotion in her eyes, which made Shizuka's heart constrict like when Noah turned Mokuba and Seto Kaiba to stone milliseconds before they reached each other's arms.

All relationships could be healed if you really wanted it. If you were willing to put in the effort, you could move mountains, right? Mai had taught Shizuka that when she came out of her coma.

"I haven't seen Mai in a while, okay, sis? So quit asking already. I don't know where she is. I … I don't know anything. Period."

Big Brother never snapped. Not at her; not ever. But he had today, and it had shocked Shizuka.

"I think," she said, quickly, like when you rip off a band aid before you can change your mind, and hope desperately that if you do it fast enough the pain won't have time to catch up. "I think Big Brother's heart is broken. Maybe a little. Maybe a lot. I'm not sure."

"Oh …" Their mother's face registered grief. She dropped her eyes and shook her head. "I doubt he'd want to hear from me if that's the case."

"Maybe not, Mom. Maybe he does need to speak to you this time." Maybe he needed to speak to her ten years ago, six months ago, last week, fifteen minutes ago when Shizuka already had him on the phone. "Would you call him? Please?"

"I can't, swee-"

"Yes you can!"

Her mother stared, sensing the sudden change in the atmosphere. Just as Big Brother never snapped at Shizuka, Shizuka never shouted at her mother. It was a day of changes. Why not make it one more? He was obviously in pain. Maybe healing old rifts would help him cope with whatever new one had driven Mai to parts unknown.

Her mother swallowed hard. The box of rice crackers trembled ever so slightly in her hands. "A-All right, sweetheart. I'll try. It's late, I'll call first thing in the morning, but he probably won't want to speak to me," she added quickly.

"At least you'd have tried," Shizuka said, not knowing just how true her words were. "Trying to do something is halfway to achieving it, and the other half is all downward slope. You've already fought most of the battle if you have the courage to try in the first place."

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