"Are you going?"
"I was thinking about it."
Miu keeps the phone pressed to her ear; her mother's cell phone is older, functional, but her voice breaks up a lot when they're talking to each other. Her voice feels so far away and Miu feels the sting of loneliness and homesickness despite it all.
"I'm sorry Miu."
"Mom, it's not your fault."
"I messed things up as much as he did. I stayed."
"Then we left."
A cut off sob. "I let him stay though."
"He found us. You were scared, Ma. It's okay. You were just trying to do the right thing." Miu tries to keep the regret out of her own voice. She always feels sad thinking how often good intentions get twisted by selfish people. Her mother is no exception. "He would have died on the streets otherwise."
"It breaks my heart." her mother sighs deeply and she sound more tired than upset now. "What a waste of a life."
Miu's mother received the message of her ex husband's death a day after it happened. They told her they had done all they could, but there was no cure for lung cancer, and treatment at the severity of Masato Morine's disease was not as effective as it would have been if he had been aware he even had it. It was only on death's door that the guards had him shipped to the prison's hospital. Junko allowed them to see to his burial on the prison grounds; she had no money for a funeral and there was no one else who would even bother to attend even a memorial service, except maybe to spit on his grave or demand compensation for old debts. Miu had agreed it was the best thing despite the twinge of guilt that came with the thought; after all, hadn't he taken enough of their limited funds in his life?
"Did you tell Katsumi?"
Junko has to stifle another sob. "Yes. She says if we did hold a service, she and Takeo wouldn't go. I don't blame them, it's just...I wish things were different..."
Miu expected as much herself; Katsumi refused to feel guilty for someone else's mistakes, for feeling she deserved more than the cards they had been dealt.
"How's Tomo?"
"She doesn't really understand it, but I think she'll be okay. She keeps asking me to take her to the store for more bananas." Junko's smile is almost audible. "I won't press it."
Miu's little sister had the mentality of a child far younger than her twenty one years. No one in her family knows why she was born the way she was. Reluctantly, Miu recalls a time her father knocked her into a wall, head first and hard enough to crack the drywall. She prays Tomo's delayed development is not the product of Masato's actions, prays that life is just funny that way and there isn't one more source of their suffering due to his disease and his own slowly deteriorating mind.
Of course, even if it was his doing, what could they do about it now?
"Are you okay Ma?"
"I'm okay honey. It's just…"
Miu forgives easily and she gets this from her mother, who has also regarded her ex husband with more pity than anger or bitterness despite her having fallen out of love with him years before. Miu can hardly believe there was once a time they were happy and Junko fully intended for them to spend the rest of their days together making up for lost time. Her mother is the one who told her and Katsumi about Masato's own troubled life, not to make them forgive, but to make them understand. She wishes for them to see something human in the monster he became. It pains her that they never had a father, pains her that she is partially to blame for her inability to cut him out completely. Junko is too kind, too hopeful good things will happen with good intentions.
"How's the house? Roof still leaking?"
"No, Takeo fixed it the last time he and Katsumi came by. He takes such good care of her." Junko sniffs, voice thick with restrained tears; every day she thanks God that Katsumi was able to find a good man, one who lives clean. Takeo is something of an older brother to Miu, one of the only positive male figures she has ever known. She hopes he can heal some of the pain in Katsumi's heart, help her move on and support her strengths.
"I'm sorry I haven't been able to visit yet. I can't really afford to take time off right now-"
"Oh don't worry about it Miu. You already do so much. You've always been my rock."
Junko moved to another house in a neighboring city, one with a program for Tomo and people like her, one that teaches them skills to survive at their own individual developmental levels. Katsumi has married Takeo and they live together on the other side of the city, mainly living their own lives, but still keeping contact occasionally. Miu stayed in their hometown and doesn't know why.
"I didn't do that much."
"Yes you did. You were always in the middle of it."
Miu chuckles; she is the middle child and true to what her mother says, she's lived up to the title. It seems in whatever conflict she plays mediator. If her father was fighting with her mother or Katsumi, they would go to Miu to vent. If Katsumi and Junko were at odds, they would go to Miu for an sympathetic ear. Even when Tomo was throwing one of her fits, she never crossed a certain line with Miu, who used a method of discipline more apt to unwavering and apparent authority and rewards here and there. Junko, who feels guilty over Tomo's condition, admits to spoiling her more often than not, so Tomo knows she can whittle down her mother's will power and take advantage of her perpetual exhaustion. Miu doesn't blame her; raising three children paycheck to paycheck and almost constant abuse in one way or another should have been enough to break her.
The only thing Miu has ever faulted her mother for is the times she has lashed out at Miu in her most stressful moments; sincere apologies always follow, but they did their damage. While Katsumi reacted indignantly and rightfully so, by their mother's lapses in her normally compassionate, borderline pushover, demeanor, Miu has always taken it to heart. She listened without complaint and for whatever reason, believed she deserved the scoldings for things out of her control or comprehension. She doesn't know why. Perhaps the tendency to self blame is hereditary.
"I'm sorry Miu. You should not have had to deal with that. None of you did."
"I know, Ma. It just happened. No one asked for it. It's not like Dad wanted things to turn out that way."
"He really didn't. Miu, you know he loved you, right?"
"Yeah, I know."
It was true, but it didn't make Miu feel better. If anything, it made her feel worse. After all, Masato must not have loved her that much. Not as much as getting high.
"I have to go pick up Tomo. Are you really okay Miu?"
"I guess. I...I kinda feel relieved. But still sad."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"It's okay Ma. I love you. It'll be okay. Tell Tomo I love her too."
"I love you honey. Treat yourself tonight and go out."
"Yeah, I might. Love you."
"Love you too."
Junko had been the life of the party at Miu's age and she thought it uncanny how Miu had a tendency to also go off on her own only to end up making friends anyway.
She had met Masato at a bar, only having learned later he had lied about his age and was ten years younger, a couple years short of being the legal age to drink. That night while he was helping her and her girlfriends start up their car's failed battery to get home, he had told Junko she was the woman he was going to marry. She had been charmed despite her disbelief and cynicism, and for him it was essentially loved at first sight.
The night they met, Masato had been adamant that he and Junko would be together forever and even create the family he never had.
Miu listened to this story with amusement mostly; the fact that her father was able to hotwire a car should have been a tiny warning sign, but then Junko had also mentioned that during the first few months of dating, Masato was already unbelievably possessive and quick to jealousy. Junko laughed retelling the story of how Masato had been absolutely livid when she gave an extra sandwich to his roomate; they had gotten in by mistake at their usual lunch spot and he went on a rant, saying how she could give away his food to some other guy.
While this story was somewhat humorous in how ridiculous the whole scenario was, Miu couldn't help cringe at other details of her parent's period of courtship. Apparently, it was not uncommon for Junko to be going about her day, hanging out with friends or going drinking, only to have Masato pop up or shadowing her as she went about her business. When Junko would later bring these stories up to Masato he would act as if she was crazy and just imagining things, but then, his own mind was so gone at that point, Miu didn't doubt the episodes simply weren't remembered. Not that she didn't think he would lie, but both options were about as likely.
At any rate, the warning signs were lost on Junko; Masato was an excellent manipulator right up until his now ex wife's accidental pregnancy in the midst of his discovery of crack cocaine. He convinced Junko that they should marry and that everything would be better once the baby was born.
Miu likes to think her father fully intended to live up to this promise, even if the idea made her feel no less sad.
"It would have been easier to hate him...it would have been simpler if he was just cruel and mean and hated us. But he was sick and it was too late for him. He gave up trying to change and we paid for it….we're still paying for it. I'm still...like this…"
It was decided. Tonight was meant for drinking. Miu felt she deserved that much.
"You look awful. What's wrong with you?"
"Thanks Tenko." Miu emerged from the bathroom on the other side of the shop; she stuffed her phone into her pocket and tried to smile. "How are the cookies?"
"Too sweet."
Miu peers into the clear bag.
"What?"
"I'm pretty sure I made two dozen, but it looks like there's less than half in there."
Tenko frowns without much sincerity and keeps his eyes glued to the screen of his game console. "I was hungry."
"I'm glad you liked them."
"So, what's wrong? You look off."
Miu sighs. "My dad's dead. Died the other day. My mom told me."
Tenko's avatar dies and Miu can hear the darkly cheerful music from the tiny speakers; he stares at her blankly.
"What?"
"My dad's dead."
"Oh." Tenko lowers his game. "I'm sorry?"
Miu can't help laugh a little. "What's up with the questioning tone?"
"I mean, should I be sorry? I'll be honest, I don't care if your old man is dead. I think you're better off. I just feel bad for you."
Miu's smile falls from shock. She thinks that's the nicest thing Tenko's ever said to her.
"Tenko...would you think I'm a bad person if I felt more relieved than sad?"
"No. I mean, I can't see how you could ever be a bad person."
The tears begin to well up in Miu's eyes and she's not sure if it's from the reality of the sudden news sinking in or the fact Tenko's words have genuinely touched her heart.
"Shit. Sorry. You think I would know what to say when someone's parents die."
"No, no, it's fine!" Miu sniffs and grabs her already sweat dampened to dab at her eyes. "You're fine Tenko, it's not like I expected you to. I wasn't going to say anything, I just-"
"It's not good to bottle things up. I might not get it, but you can still talk to me."
Tenko scratched his neck lightly as he set down his game next to the bag of cookies and the dead vines around the border of his desk. The sweet peas had long wilted but he couldn't find the energy to toss them out. Tenko often felt exhausted after attending the support group, but right now it was overshadowed by slight guilt and just a general feeling of being out of his depth. He had never really had a friend before Miu and he never really wanted one. If everyone in school just let him be, it would have been more than fine by him; all Tenko had in experience with social interaction was telling people to fuck off before stewing in his own scorn somewhere alone.
"Uh...want one?" Tenko held out a cookie to Miu. "Your dad sounds like a real asshole. If my parents were like him, I wouldn't feel too bad either."
"Oh god…"
Fresh tears came to Miu's eyes and Tenko wondered if there was any way he could just sink into the ground.
"I'm sorry Tenko. I can't believe I'm talking about how I'm glad my dad's dead and-"
"It's not the same!"
Miu wiped her eyes quickly. "I'm sorry, I-"
"And stop apologizing! What the hell's the matter with you anyway? It's not up to me to say how you should feel about this anyway. You went through it, no one can tell you how to feel!"
Tenko is breathing harshly now, coffee stained teeth clenched tight as he tries to reign himself in. Miu has stopped crying at least, but he wonders if it's more from the shock of him yelling at her like a dick. Maybe therapy isn't draining him enough.
"Tenko...thank you."
"Oh. No problem."
Miu takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, folding her handkerchief back into her jean pocket. Her eyes are still watery but her expression is calm; a tiny smile plays at her lips.
"Did you hear that at group?"
"Yeah. I mean, in the first place it's not like everyone's the same. I can't even begin to imagine how you're feeling. I know with how I am, I'd be celebrating, but that's me. You're a lot more….accepting. When I don't like someone, I just don't like them. I want them to go away." Tenko scowls and recalls the times he wished nothing less than death on his peers, even the ones who didn't do anything. At one point in his life, he didn't care about anyone, least of all himself. Every now and then some kind hearted soul would try to prod and nudge some form of interaction on him, but Tenko would have none of it and he was distrustful, to put it lightly. In his eyes, no one would ever be able to see him as more than the sad, creepy orphan whose mommy and daddy died in a tragic accident.
In group Tenko had made acquaintances, had met people he could even say he liked to a degree, but so far he had not allowed anyone else too close. It was funny, because in group everyone found out each other's most well guarded thoughts and became privy to more than a few horror stories, but it was a sort of camaraderie that wasn't easy to carry into the real world. Tenko at least, had not been able to make deeper connections and couldn't fathom speaking the little he managed to in the safety of the community hall under the supervision of a trained professional who kept the peace and kept everyone on track.
"Miu, you're...you told me I was strong, but you are too. You can look at someone, even someone who hurt you, and you don't dismiss them or-or simplify them into this box. You can see someone as more than their actions or their words. You can see them as more and you...you make it sound like everyone has a chance to change and be more. It's…."
Tenko puts a hand to his face, and old tick to feel less awkward; sometimes he wishes he could go around wearing a mask, have a complete sense of anonymity. No judgments, nothing getting too personal, and thus, no chance of having it taken away.
"If you need to talk, I'll listen. So stop acting stupid and just say what's on your mind."
His father told him his grandmother used to say one of the best things someone could do to feel brave and fearless is to put on a big smile, that a smile had the power to save someone's heart. Of course, she had never seen him smile. Tenko had smiled once for a class picture; his classmates said it made his scars stretch out and his face look like something out of a horror movie. Tenko never done it in pictures since.
"Miu….keep smiling if you can."
"Tenko?"
Tenko brought his fingers to the corners of his lips and pulled them upward. His eyes were fixed straight on Miu's splotchy face.
"I heard that the people who smile in this world are usually the strongest. Yours is nicer to look at than mine anyway. So, if you can manage to keep smiling, I'll try too."
"Okay. But what are you talking about?"
Tenko dropped his hands; Miu was beaming, looking ready to laugh actually.
"I've always liked your smile."
If Miu hadn't needed to duck from having a cookie chucked at her head, she would have seen the corners of Tenko's cracked lips quirk up on their own.
