Chapter Ten: The Winter and His Snow

It was snowing. Despite this, Kate was outside sitting on her porch swing with nothing warmer than a sweater on. She hugged her knees up close to herself, and listened to her own breath and heartbeat as the snow fell from the clouds. It was, as she thought, incredibly beautiful.

A blanket was wrapped around her and she smiled momentarily, pulling it closer to herself with a, "Thank you, Athan."

"It's cold," said Athan, sitting beside her. He rubbed his nose and stuck his gloved fingers in the armpits of his coat.

"It's beautiful," said Kate. "Haven't you ever just sat outside and watched the snow? Just fall, just so silently and brightly. In a few hours, everything will be covered in white. Everything."

Athan sniffed and wiped his nose again. "I did, once," he said, laughing a little. "In first year, Robert Mozingo melted my shoes and tied me to the flagpole. No one noticed for a few hours."

Kate covered her mouth, but laughed as well. "You were alright, then?"

"Yes, no harm done. Just a little frostbite. You're right though, the snow was beautiful," he sighed. He pulled his own knees up to himself and stared blankly in front of himself.

She nodded, and watched it, again. "They always made fun of you, but you never card, did you? You knew all their little gossip secrets, and so you knew you were better than them. You just ran your own way. You still do that, don't you?" she asked.

"I used to. I used to think that I was always right, and I felt sorry for all the others that didn't know any better. Then, I got thrown into the real world and realized that it was I who didn't know any better. It hardly matters who is right, or even what is right. Reality doesn't bend to truth." He rubbed his nose again.

"And?" she asked, turning her head to him so that her ear pressed to her knee. "What does matter?"

"Happiness," said Athan. "Living for the sake of living. Setting yourself up for the unadulterated bliss by the freedom of possibility and the release of tedious annoyances."

Kate swallowed, almost laughing again. "So you're saying when you were just a schoolboy, when you didn't care what everyone else thought and when you yourself thought you could do anything once you graduated; that was happiness? That was what life is all about?"

"I said that was the only thing that mattered, not that that was what life was about. That freedom of possibility ends in ultimate disappointment and realization that you were never that good to start with. Then, the release of annoyances never lasts for long, and eventually you're brought back to earth with the burden of trying to find your way out again. The key is to accept the burden, and mold it with yourself to give the happiness to others, and receive happiness for yourself. I used to be happy in school, but I never realized it. Now, I'm content with knowing that I'm with a revolution to bring the world back to how it used to be. Hopefully, people will appreciate the point of a large, multi-ability community."

Kate nodded, meekly. "Athan, do me a favour?"

"Anything," Athan responded.

She paused for a moment, but she said, "Don't call it a revolution. I've already been through a revolution, and this isn't it. If it was, my children wouldn't be better off during it than they were before."

"You're welcome," Athan said with a courteous nod.

"I didn't even say thank you, yet!" Kate smiled brightly. "But really, I can't even remember the last time I felt so safe. Being with Joseph is like being a drug dealer in a room full of German Shepherds. You never know when something might slip or who might just find something out and connect the dots."

Athan nodded, understanding. "Speaking of him, where is your husband? He, not I, should be here, watching the snow with you."

"Yes," Kate said sorrowfully. "Well, you should know better than me where the heck he is. Half the time, I never know what he's doing. But then again, that's the way it's always been." She shrugged, but frowned slightly.

"Kate," said Athan. He looked her in the eyes, and said most sincerely, "it is one of the world's greatest regrets to think that you have just become a mother and a wife."

She turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were slightly red and watered, although it was impossible to tell if it was just from the weather. She blinked a few times, without emotion, and then closed her eyes and leaned in.

Never would she ever forget her first kiss with Joseph Allen. She remembered every time someone mentioned peanut butter, or jam, or knife. And every kiss with him after that had some resemblance to the first, with some sweet taste that kept her heart light.

The kiss with Athan was a bit of the same, tingling sweetness. It was also inexplicably different. While all of Joseph's kisses were built on natural chemistry, and had a theme of romanticism, Athan's kiss was soft and solid and had spoke one word: Devotion. His nose was also cold as it pressed on her cheek, and Kate pulled away just as suddenly as she leaned in.

"I love him, you know that?" she started to cry. "What's wrong with being 'just a wife?' He has my heart, Athan, and he'll keep it! I don't even care what he does with it! I love him! And I-- I just c-couldn't-- I don't know." Kate sobbed into her knees. She shook and shuddered, and only looked up once Athan got up off the porch swing.

"I'm sorry, Kate, I'm sorry. Kate? Kate, please! Forgive me! I'm sorry!" He swallowed, pressing his lips together. His own eyes started to water, seeing her so hysterical. "I think no less of you being so devoted to him. You know I would be the same, had I been born--"

"Shut up! Stop it! Just... just don't speak to me for the next twenty-four hours and I'll be fine," she sobbed. "And don't you say a word to anyone!"

Athan swallowed again. "Cross my heart, Mrs. Allen. Again, I--I'm sorry."

Kate wiped her tears and looked after him as he slowly and awkwardly turned and left. She soberly pulled the blanket closer to herself. It was getting cold.

"Papa?"

It felt odd. It felt odd to her, being an old woman and saying this. The facts were these: Mei was seventy-four. Her hair was no longer strikingly black, but a light gray. Her eyes played tricks on her and her ears seemed only to hear half as much as before. Her skin sagged with dots and freckles, and her one knee screamed if she stood up for too long. The doctors would gladly relieve all her pain and difficulties, but they didn't know. They never lived before the Year Zero, and they didn't understand that getting old was just another part of life, and to deny it? To deny it was to deny life itself. They didn't understand.

Here he was, Makoto Takahashi, Joseph Allen, Adam Monroe, Takezo Kensei, whoever the hell he really was. Here he was, sitting in his sitting room, looking as young as ever. His hair was still a bright blond and his figure was fit and strong. He blinked the same way and he sat the same way, like a statue that looked exactly the same every time you visited it.

"She checks out, Mr. Allen," the suited woman who escorted her in spoke. "No connection with the Fergusons except the obvious, of course."

Mei shook herself off from the woman's grip, remembering when she could knock out suits like them without a second thought. She swallowed, trying to look sternly at Adam, but such things are difficult when you're leaning on a cane.

"Mei?" Adam smiled. He looked pleased. He stood up, hugged her, and kissed her on the forehead.

Her emotions melted and her eyes watered, but Mei didn't hug him back. "Nevermind, Papa. First, let's just ignore the past thirty-five years, shall we? I hardly care anymore that you faked your death, leaving me with no hint of anything. Nevermind. I know you never hold on to the past."

He looked like he was about to say something further, but he looked down awkwardly. Mei was fuming, but she sent thoughts of happiness to Adam's brain. He looked thankful for these, and it didn't surprise Mei in the least that he suspected her of messing with his emotions.

"I..." she started, but found herself caught. She stared into his eyes. "I can't stand this war. A war between my children and my father, imagine that? All of these deaths are reason enough to stop."

His eyes darted away from hers, but his voice was annoyingly smooth. "You understand how things work, Mei. There are just some things that have to be done."

"They don't have to be," she shot back. "Please, Papa. I can convince them."

"You can 'convince' them?" Adam almost laughed. "Impossible. All they want is for me to be dead."

"Then maybe you should die!" Mei fought back the tears. She couldn't believe she was saying this, but she was. It needed to be said.

Adam glared at her. "How dare you?" he hissed. "How dare you suggest such a thing? I'll kill them all if I have to, if only for self-defence."

"It's not self-defence! It's hunger. You're hungry for power and all of these people playing into your hand," Mei gave a laugh. "It's perfect, isn't it, having all of these Kenshis worshiping you like a God? You love it, don't you? The power. If they hadn't come up with it at all, you would be fine, but oh-- the temptation! Since it was offered to you..."

Adam roared this time, "And so what? Why don't you leave? Let me live my own life! Who are you to come into my house, telling me what to do? You're just a child!"

"Yes, you say that. We're all just children in your eyes," Mei leaned upon her cane. "I love you, Papa," she let out bitterly. "I have loved you my whole life, and I have done everything that you asked of me. Everything, for you. But now, Papa," Mei smiled, wiping her eyes and turning to leave, "you are the child."