Chapter 4

'weekend'

Ash to ash,

Dust to dust,

Fade to black,

The memory remains!

"You're what?"  I stared in disbelief at Dad, standing there in the kitchen with a dish in his hands as though there was nothing abnormal in what he'd said.  "You're leaving?"

"That's right."  He finished rubbing the plate dry and set it on the counter.  "A conference.  I'll be gone two nights.  I think there might be a lot of these down the road, so we're going to have to get used to them."

"But you can't leave," I pleaded.  "For a whole weekend?  What are you thinking?"

"I'll only be gone Saturday and Sunday nights; I'll be back by the time you're both home from school on Monday.  I've been really impressed by your behavior these past few weeks, Touya-kun, I'm sure you'll do a good job of watching Sakura."

And there was the rub.  I really didn't know what was wrong with me; most fourteen year-olds would be thrilled at the thought of a weekend without parents.  But most fourteen year-olds wouldn't have to spend that weekend watching her either.  I wilted at the prospect of it.

"Don't you realize what Sunday is?" I demanded.  "How can you think of leaving us on a day like that?"

I thumped the cupboards with an angry fist, and saw the quick flash of pain in his eyes before he looked away.

"Of course I realize what Sunday is, Touya-kun.  But I can't help that.  This is my job; I have to go.  Being here won't change what is."

I knew that, I knew that every bit as much as he did.  But that didn't mean it was going to be any easier.  I spend the weekend closeted in with my music, generally, and had been planning to do the same on Sunday, not allowing myself any time to think.  But I couldn't do that if I was in charge of watching the little monster.  I would have to spend time with her.

I made a strangled noise in my throat at the thought of it and turned on my heels before he could see my face.

"Thank you for your help, Touya-kun," he called out to my back, before I pounded up the stairs and slammed into my bedroom.  Damn him.  Why did he always have to make it worse by making me feel guilty?

- - - - - - - - -

Faster than any before, that week came and went in a flash.  We won the football game again that Saturday, and I grudgingly began the walk home.  She was in high spirits, dancing around me as I forced my stiff and sore body to move.

"Dad says that you have to watch out for me and cook for me and tuck me in and everything this weekend.  Just like he does!  Are you really going to do all that?"

"I guess so," I muttered, staring at the pavement.  She skipped with joy. 

"Dad says that I should tell him if you don't, because he wants to know whether you do a good job or not."

"A little spy.  How cute."

She didn't understand the sarcasm and blushed.

"So what are you going to cook for dinner tonight?  Can we have ramen?  Please, please, please?"

"Sure, whatever."  Right then, ramen was probably the only thing that I could bring my aching self to cook.  I was so tired.  "When are you going to be old enough to take on some of the chores in the household?  I'm getting a little tired of carrying all the work."

That question made her pause in her skipping.

"I dunno.  When were you old enough to do chores?"

I raised my eyebrows in the darkness and considered that.  I'd never had to do anything at all, really.  She had happily taken care of all the cooking and cleaning in the household.  And then… and then she hadn't been able to do anything and Dad was so busy taking care of her.  Somehow, I ended up being the one that washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen.  And took care of Sakura.  That was what stood out in my mind from that time.  Sakura, always there, always in my shadow.  There had been no one else to watch her.

"We're home!"

She jumped onto the porch enthusiastically and waited for me to unlock the door.  Taken aback, I had to fumble for my keys.  I must have completely lost track of time when walking.  Thinking about that time did that to me. 

"Why don't you get changed and then you can set the table.  That's sort of like a chore.  You could help me make dinner."

"Okay!"  She was so excited about the prospect of helping that she practically zoomed up the stairs to go change.  I knew I needed to get up and shower, I was filthy and sweaty, but I leaned against the door and watched her go.  Unbidden, the memories were returning.  I'd been fighting them, resisting that train of thought ever since Kaho brought it up back in April. 

I'd been true to my word, and had not allowed Ryu to draw me into a fistfight, either him or anyone else.  But I hadn't let myself go down that road, not yet.  I hadn't been ready.

I still wasn't ready.  But I had a feeling that this weekend didn't care about that.

- - - - - - - - - -

At least she's old enough to bathe by herself.  That happy thought ran through my mind as I reclined on my bed and listened to the music.  Interspersed with Metallica, I could hear her shrill voice singing as she splashed in the bathtub.

"London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down!"

I turned up the music, and drowsily I hummed along, closing my eyes.  Ash to ash, dust to dust.  Indeed, no matter how much we wish otherwise, it's the ash that goes away and the memories that remain.

I remember how it scattered that day.  How the breeze caught the fine gray dust and blew it away from his hand, taking her away from us.  Gone forever, like the petals I'd crushed and discarded. 

Sometimes I hate how vivid and clear it is in my mind.  Those are the times that I'm most jealous of Sakura.  I want to be blissfully ignorant like her.  Then there are times when I can't recall exactly what her face looks like, and I panic.  I have to run home and look at the photo again, make sure to etch the image into my brain and brand my memory with it.  What kind of son would forget his own mother's face?  Probably the same kind of son who would –

"Oof!"  I grunted as she threw herself on my stomach, pink and glowing after her bath and dressed in her favorite pink pajamas.  "Oh, Sakura, please don't do that.  I'm very sore after that game."

She giggled and bounced up and down on my stomach.

"Stop it!"

"I know it doesn't hurt," she chided.  "Cause you're the most strongest, best big brother in the whole world.  Nothing ever hurts you."

I opened my eyes and looked at her cherubic face.  She was speaking from the heart, her eyes utterly sincere.  That must be how she really sees me.

"You've taken your bath.  Time to go to bed."

"First you have to read me a story!"

"No I don't."

"Yes you do. Dad says that you have to do everything that he does."

"Dad doesn't read you a story."

"Yes he does!"  She rolled her eyes at her big brother's absolute ignorance.  "Every night after my bath, when you go into your room and listen to your music."

"Oh."  He did?  "Well, I'm not going to be able to get to your room and find a book if you don't get off my stomach."

"Okay!"  She scrambled off, leaving me to grunt in pain again, and skipped down the hall to her own room.  Wearily I followed, and by the time I'd dragged myself through the doorway, she was already under the covers, looking expectant.

"What do you want?"  I brushed my fingertips over the few books on her desk.  "Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty?"

"Cinderella!  It's my favorite!"

Frankly, I'd never liked the story that much.  How realistic is it to expect some fairy godmother to come down and grant you wishes, especially when you've been nothing but a total doormat your entire life to people who abuse you?  But I kept my thoughts to myself as I opened it and began to read aloud.

She snuggled up happily, and didn't seem to mind the frequent breaks I took for yawning.  After what seemed forever, I reached "The end" and returned the book to her desk.

"All right, I've read you the story.  Now you have to go to sl - "

"What about my kiss?"

"Your what?"

"Dad kisses me goodnight every night before he turns out the light, and you have to do what he does."

"He didn't mean I had to do stuff like that."  As if she were dangerous, I sidled away from the bed.  I couldn't.  I simply couldn't do that.  But she was looking at me, her big green eyes growing misty as she sniffled.

"Oh, fine."  Maybe it would be easier if I didn't have to look at her.  I turned out the light, plunging the room into darkness, and leaned over the bed.  Closer… closer… I could hear her light breathing below me, and smell the floral-scented soap she used in her bath.  My heart was beating faster, and I wondered what was wrong with me.  It was just a goodnight kiss.  Why was this so hard for me?  Am I that cold?

Finally I reached her forehead, and dropped a light kiss on it.

"Thank you, Onii-chan," she murmured.

"Good night."  I stood up and backed away, relief washing over me.  There, I'd done it, and that wasn't so hard.  Gratefully I stumbled out of her darkened room and into the hallway.  I'd put her to bed, and there was nothing to do now but crash out.  I was so exhausted.  The game that night had been really tough, and I hadn't even been able to score a goal. 

I changed the disc to some instrumental Joe Satriani, and the quiet was replaced by soulful stirrings of the guitar.  It was peaceful, pensive music.  The kind of music one could just drift off in slumber to…

"Onii-chan."

My eyes flew open and I sat up straight, breathing hard.

"Sakura!  What are you doing up, you scared me.  Don't ever sneak up on me like that!"

"Gomen."  She fixed me with pleading eyes and leaned forward.  "I'm scared, Onii-chan.  I don't like going to sleep without Dad in the house."

Ironic, considering Dad was the scholar and I was the fighter.

"I thought I was the strongest brother in the world."

"But it's still scary," she whimpered.  "There are ghosts in my bedroom!"

"No there aren't, Sakura."

"How do you know?"

"Because I can see them, remember?  And there weren't any!"

"Dad says you just make it up that you can see things."

"Dad doesn't know everything.  And in any case, if Dad says I was making it up, then that means there's nothing in your room, right?"  I gave her a triumphant look, and she hesitated.  But seven year-olds are not impressed by logic.

"It's still scary," she moped.  "I don't like it when Dad isn't here.  It reminds me of before."

Before… I frowned as I tried to understand what she was talking about. 

"Before, when Dad took Mommy away.  I was so scared, and you let me sleep in your bed that night.  Can I do it again?"

I couldn't answer her right away, too surprised to even speak.  I couldn't believe that she even remembered that.

"Touya-kun.  Touya-kun, wake up."  My eyes fluttered open and I took in blearily the sight of Dad kneeling by my bed.  "Touya-kun, can you hear me?"

"Wha's wrong?" I slurred.

"Nothing's wrong, son, but Mommy has another funny feeling in her stomach.  I have to take her to the hospital again.  It's way too late to call a baby-sitter, and I don't want to wake your sister up and drag you all out there.  Can you be a grown-up boy and take care of things until we get back?"

Dad had been using that 'grown-up boy' a lot on me these past few weeks, and I nodded and yawned.  He popped it whenever he wanted me to take care of the yardwork or wash the dishes, and especially to watch Sakura.

"Can I go back to sleep?"

"Of course.  I just didn't want you to wake up and be scared if we were still gone.  We should be back in time for breakfast.  Okay?"

"-kay."

Too tired to think clearly, I didn't notice the worry lines on his forehead, or the fear in his eyes.  Grown-ups didn't get scared, everyone knew that.  He left the room quickly, and afterwards I heard Mom's slight moans as he helped her down the stairs and out the front door.  A short while later the car started, and I felt myself slipping back into sleep.

"Nii-chan."

"What is it?" I murmured without opening my eyes.  She tugged insistently on the sleeve of my pajamas.  "Nii-chan, I heard a car outside and someone downstairs!  But Mommy and Daddy are gone!  Nii-chan, I'm scared."

"-t's okay.  That was Mom and Dad going out.  Mom had to go to the doctor again."

I heard her sniffle and start to cry.  She hated being alone in the dark.

"They'll be back soon.  Go to bed, Sakura."

"I'm scared.  Can I sleep with you?"

I groaned and buried my face in the pillow.  I should have known she would ask something like that.  And I was simply too tired to argue. 

"Fine.  You better not wet the bed or anything."

"I won't!"  Happily she clambered underneath the sheets and snuggled up to me. I just rolled over and faced the wall, willing sleep to return.  But a vague worry was growing within me.  This was the third time in the past week that Dad had to take Mom to the hospital.  What if…

Nah.  Dad said and Mom said that she was going to be just fine.  She just had a nervous stomach.  I closed my eyes, and slept.

Liars, all of them.  I felt the bitterness rise in my throat as I recalled that night.  How Dad had been able to look me straight in the face and tell me that Mom was just fine, and he was only taking her to the hospital as a precaution.  I was angry at him for lying, and angry at myself for believing it like I did.  I was such an idiot.

"Sakura, you're too old for that now.  You know that nothing's going to hurt you.  I'll be right down the hall."

"Puhh-leeease?" she begged.  She did look so scared.  But I couldn't do this for her, not this time.  I couldn't feel the searing touch of her skin next to mine in my own bed; I'd never be able to sleep.

"You cannot sleep in my bed, Sakura.  Tell you what.  I'll tuck you in again, and I'll sit by the window until you're asleep.  Okay?  That way nothing can get you."

She pouted.  This wasn't the ideal situation for her, but it was all I could give her.  After a moment, she nodded, and we both shuffled down the hallway back into her room.  Once again I tucked the covers under her chin, and then I retreated to the padded cushion under her window.  I could hear her toss and turn a couple of times before finally settling down, and soon she was breathing deeply and evenly.  I remained where I was, looking up at the night sky.  It was perfectly cloudless and studded with stars tonight, and we had returned to a full moon.  It had been full the night I'd met her under the cherry tree, too.

Only a month?  It seems a lifetime has passed since we moved here.  Already Tokyo is such a blur in my memory.  It's weird, but sometimes I catch myself thinking we've lived our whole life in this town. 

And it all had to do with her.

I only went to the shrine at nights when I knew she'd be there.  I don't know how I know, just as I don't know how I can hear her voice in my mind sometimes.  But I would go, and we would talk about various things as I helped her clean.  The spring nights were so beautiful and warm, it was difficult not to enjoy the simple tasks of sweeping.  At nights the shrine was lonely and private, perfect for meditation and contemplation.  I could see why she rather liked her custodial duties.

Twenty.  That's how old she was, I'd finally discovered through the course of our conversations.  It was ridiculous to even think about it, but that was only six years older… and I was so tall, it seemed as though we were evenly matched.  When we spoke, the difference in our ages evaporated.  She said it was because I had grown up so fast and matured so rapidly, it was as if I was older than I really was.  And even though my heart fluttered at those words and my cheeks reddened, nothing else had happened.  She seemed quite content to simply talk, discussing all sorts of things except that conversation after my first football game.  That was what she was waiting for, I realized.  She was waiting for me to undergo this test. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"What are we going to do today?" Sakura chirped.  She gave me a perky look over breakfast, and I swallowed another yawn.  After falling asleep on her bench cushion the night before, I'd woken at about three or so in the morning and stumbled back to my bed.  I hadn't been able to sleep very well even after that, my dreams visited by haunting images of a woman flying through the sky.  Normally I would have just brushed it off as a dream about Mom, but for some reason this time was different.  I had a feeling that that wasn't her with the wings.

But if not her, then who?

"Onii-chan!  I said, what are we going to do today?"

"Um, don't you have homework?"

"Only a little bit.  I can do it tonight, if you help me with my math.  You'll help me, won't you?"

"Sure, whatever."

"Then what are we going to do today?"

This ceaseless questioning couldn't continue.  I was going to have to come up with something; that was clear.  Frantically I racked my brain, trying to think of something.  What was it Aki had mentioned… a class trip last fall to go see the –

"I heard there's a nice aquarium in this town.  Why don't we go see that?"

She almost jumped out of her chair with excitement.

"Really?  An aquarium, like with fish and everything?  We can go see it?  Really, really?"

"Really, really.  If you finish your breakfast.  Do you want to help wash the dishes?"

"Okay!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Is it sugar?  Is it the cartoons she watches?  What is it about that girl that makes her so damn hyper?

I watched my sister jump and down in awe after an angelfish had swum up to the glass in front of her.  She was nothing less than sheer energy.  A gamma ray, to use the technical term.  No matter or mass, just pure energy.  And nobody ever had to baby-sit a gamma ray.

"So pretty!  So pretty!  So pr - "

Finally I clapped my hand over her mouth.

"Sakura, listen to me."

"Mmpf."

"There are people here who are trying to enjoy the fish quietly.  They cannot do this unless you also are quiet.  Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Mmpf."

"Do you promise to use your indoor voice?"  She nodded.  "Okay.  I'm going to take my hand off now.  Please be quiet."

I removed my hand and she stood still for a moment, looking properly contrite.  Then she skipped off to see the next exhibit, exuberant as ever but at least whispering her shouts of joy.  We entered another room and I leaned against the wall, watching her watch a long eel snake its way across the tank.

Just like old times, I was thinking.  Starting with spending the night with her.  More than anything else about that time, I remember her.  She was the baby, the cute new arrival, and got all the attention.  I resented it, of course, as older siblings around the world do.  And no one is cuter than Sakura. 

Then, before I knew what was happening, Mom and Dad didn't have time for the baby anymore.  They didn't have time for anything anymore.  Dad was at her bedside every minute that he wasn't at work, feeding her, giving her medicine, helping her bathe and dress on the days she felt good enough to get up.  There weren't many of those.  I was scared, a little, but everybody kept saying that it was nothing, she would be better soon.  And could I please take care of Sakura that morning?  That night?  Make sure she ate, and got dressed, or got to bed?  A ten year-old should not be having to do all that!

But, there was no one else.  No wonder Kaho said I grew up so fast.  I was ten going on twenty.  And at the time, I don't think I actually minded that much. 

Sakura darted for the next room and I hurried to catch up.

No, actually, on looking back, I don't remember minding that much at all.  I felt like I was contributing something, helping in some small way.  Like if I could take Sakura and myself off their minds, then Dad would be free to help Mom get better. 

Didn't exactly work. 

"Ooh, look, Onii-chan!"  Sakura lunged for my hand and dragged me through the next archway.  "Penguins!  Looky, looky, there's a man feeding them fish!  Isn't that cool!"

"Cold, I think you mean."

She didn't get it and stared wide-eyed at the young man tossing fish to the black and white birds.  What a miserable job.  When I'm old enough to work, you'll never see me doing something like that.

"Oh, look, Onii-chan!  There's a place for ice cream up there!  And we can watch the fish and everything!  Can we have some ice cream?  Please?"

"Sure," I said amiably, even though I knew it was stupid to introduce more sugar into her system.  I was too tired to argue.  "What flavor do you want to get?"

"Chocolate!  No, strawberry.  No, maybe I want chocolate chip…"

She skipped up the steps, changing her mind with every step forward, and I dragged up behind her.  By the time we'd reached the tables, she finally decided on a scoop of cherry vanilla and a scoop of chocolate.

"And for you sir?"

"We'll just share, thanks."

She watched the fish swim past the tables in their huge glass aquarium.

"Isn't it pretty, Onii-chan?  You can watch them just a little ways away!  They're so close, it's like they're swimming through the restaurant!"

"Very," I agreed, but frowned as I watched the fish.  There was nothing wrong with the aquarium that I could see, but I still had a funny feeling when I looked at it.  Like there was something dangerous about it.

"Here you are," the waiter announced and placed the dish with two spoons between us.

"Yay!" Sakura declared, and picked up her spoon.  Then she hesitated.

"What?"

"It's too bad we don't have any candles.  It would be nice.  But this is good enough, don't you think?"

I narrowed my eyes.

"Candles?"

"Mm-hmm.  For Mommy's birthday.  It's her birthday today, isn't it?"

She looked at me with those wide green eyes, totally guileless and innocent.  I had to get my breath back before replying.

"Yes.  Yes, it is."

She nodded with satisfaction before digging in and lifting out a scoop.

"How did you know?"  I hadn't mentioned it to her.  Spending the day alone with her, it was the last thing I'd wanted to think about.  She just shrugged.

"I dunno.  I just remember."

"Oh."  I watched her slurp another spoonful of ice cream, conscious again of that jealousy.  It didn't even bother her, that it was Mom's birthday today.  It didn't even make her feel sad, because there was nothing to feel sad for.  She didn't remember a thing!

"Happy birthday, Sakura-chan!"  Dad helped her blow out the candles atop the cake, and Mom laughed as Sakura grabbed one to lick the icing off.  Then she pulled Sakura back down into her lap so Dad could cut it.  I fidgeted impatiently on my chair, anxious for my slice. 

"You are such a big girl now, Sakura-chan," Mom cooed, bouncing her up and down on her lap.  "Three years old!  It won't be long before you're going to school with Touya-kun."

"Goody," Sakura squealed, sending a look of pure adoration my way.  I scowled.  The thought of that brat following me to school was not an appealing one.  But I couldn't stay moody for long, not when there was cake and ice cream to be had.  I wolfed mine and had seconds, never noticing how quiet Mom was while Dad helped Sakura open her presents.  Finally she leaned over and whispered something in his ear.

"What?  Oh, right."  That look that I always chose to ignore crossed his face, and he straightened.  "Touya-kun, can you be a grown-up boy and wash the dishes, and put the cake and ice cream back in the fridge?  Mommy's tired, and I'm just going to help her to bed.  I'll be right back down to help."

"Sure," I muttered, staring at the melting remains of my ice cream.  I knew he wouldn't be down any time soon.  He always took so long to help her to bed, even longer than it took for Sakura.  My sister was sitting on the floor, already entranced with her new doll, and didn't notice when I jumped up to follow my parents upstairs.  I'd just remembered that I'd gotten a present for her too, and had wrapped it carefully before hiding it in my bedroom.  Little hair clips, decorated with plastic cherries.  I'd saved my allowance and bought them all on my own, and I was so proud.  Wanting it to be a surprise, I was slipping quietly up the stairs, and I heard them.

"Touya's birthday," she sighed.  "And Sakura's.  I made it to both of them.  I can stop fighting now."

"Don't talk like that," Dad chided.  "What about yours, hmm?  Just six weeks away!"

"It's not going to happen, sweetheart.  I'm not going to see twenty-eight.  You know it; I know it.  I just can't fight anymore."

"Oh my god," I whispered, forgetting my surroundings.  Sakura looked up from her ice cream.

"Whatdja say?"

"Sc- excuse me," I panted, and pushed myself away from the table to stumble instinctively toward the bathroom.  My stomach was turning with nausea and the few bites of ice cream I'd just had were threatening to come up.  I made it just in time and knelt over the bowl, relieving myself.

How could I?  How could I forget something like that conversation?  Was I so determined to believe Dad's lies?  He knew, she knew, they both knew that she was going to die.  And I'd heard them talking about it with my own two ears.  Why wouldn't I let myself see?

I stood up and made my way to the sinks, glaring at my reflection in the mirror.  I was absolutely white under the harsh florescent lights, my eyes rimmed in red.  But dry, quite dry.  Not even after that, it seemed, could I cry.

I splashed my face with cold water and rinsed out my mouth.

"You just gave up," I muttered.  "What, Sakura's birthday was suddenly the end and all to existence?  You made it to April first and decided to just give up.  You left us!  You gave up and you left us!"

Someone came in and I shut up, turning to leave the bathroom with a weary shuffle.  I wanted to break down, I wanted to run and keep running, and never look back, leaving the whole mess behind.  But Sakura was still in my care.  I had to return to her.

- - - - - - - - -

I'll never know how I made it through the rest of that day.  I took Sakura home, I made dinner, I helped her with her math homework, and washed dishes while she took her bath.  I tucked her in, again, and read her Sleeping Beauty.  Once more she demanded that I kiss her good night, and once more I had to turn out the light before I could force myself to do it.

And I sat there, by her window, waiting for her to fall asleep and all the while glaring up into that night sky.  Glaring at Mom.  I had a few choice words to say to her, but those were going to have to wait.  I could never remember being so angry in my life.

- - - - - - - - -

I think she could feel the change, when she stepped into the classroom the next day.  Her eyes lit on me for a brief moment, and I could swear I felt her fear.

Did she fear for me?  Or did she fear me?  I was dangerous that day, I knew it, I was seething, a volatile storehouse of anger and frustration.  If Ryu had chosen that day to start something, it might have been the last thing he'd ever done.  Our paths didn't cross that day, however, and I stomped home from school with Sakura dancing merrily around me.  And then I had to sit there and watch him, eating his dinner calmly as he asked Sakura how the weekend went.  She raved about the aquarium and all the pretty fishies, and he smiled and thanked me for doing such a good job with her.

"Not a problem," I said coldly.  I think he must have picked up my tone at last and looked at me carefully after that, but I just stared into my food.  After dinner, naturally, he had to take Sakura upstairs and tuck her in.  Twilight was beginning, and I could go.  I practically ran from the home.

- - - - - - - -

"She gave up!" I yelled, anguished.  Kaho leaned against the trunk of the cherry tree and watched me silently.  "She gave up!  I heard her!  I was on the stairs behind them and I heard them talking and my mother decided to just give up.  She stopped fighting, stopped caring.  It didn't matter to her about her children, leaving them all alone.  She made it to Sakura's birthday, and then she just stopped fighting!"

I enunciated the last two words by kicking the fence viciously, and she winced.

"This upsets you."

"Upsets me?  That's the understatement of the year.  After all the lies, after all the times she looked me right in the eye and told me that of course she was going to get better, she decided to just roll over and die and leave me behind.  I hate her.  Do you hear that, Mom?  I hate you!"  I turned my face up to the emerging stars and shouted it as loud as I could.  Even my frantic raving didn't seem to have an effect on the quiet shrine.  The trees absorbed my angry words and softened them with the rustling of their spring leaves.

Kaho was silent, her eyes never leaving me.

"And that's not all," I continued.  "He knew.  He knew, because I heard her tell him.  He knew that she was just giving up, and he didn't even try to stop her.  He just let her die!  What kind of husband does that for his wife?  He gave up too.  Everybody gave up.  I was the only one fighting!  The ten year-old, just by watching out for his sister, was doing more than any of the adults.  Doesn't that strike you as a little odd?  A little bit on the strange side?"

I paused for breath, glaring at her as though it were her fault.  But nothing disturbed that placid calm.

"And still you carry on.  Still you try to fight in place of your mother."

I stiffened, then looked away as I raked my fingers through my hair.  I hadn't phrased it in quite those words, but I knew she was speaking the truth.  I knew it the minute I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.  If Mom wasn't going to fight, and Dad wasn't going to fight, then it would just have to be me.  It didn't matter that she was dead, and it didn't matter who it was I was fighting against.  It was something that I just had to do.

"Yes," I admitted.  "I understand now.  That's why I search for the fight."

"And will you ever find it?"

I paced for a minute.

"No.  The only thing that I want to fight is that disease that killed her.  And I can't.  Because it's gone, just like her."  I crossed the distance to the cherry tree and banged my head against it once, before turning and sliding down its trunk until I was sitting on the grass.

I had been so angry, so full of fury, but this damn shrine and that woman had sucked all the rage right out of me.  I'd been angry for so long, I couldn't keep it in anymore.

She followed my example and sat in a mermaid position on the grass beside me, tucking the material of her kimono in around her legs.

"Do you really hate your mother, Touya?"

"No."

"You said yourself that they tried to hide the reality of the disease from you.  For how long did she fight, before you even knew she was sick?  For how long did she struggle to keep her smile on her face when you and your sister were near?"

An unpleasant picture of what my mother's last few months must have been like whisked through my mind, and I swallowed.

"Do you really hate your father?"

"I'm angry at him.  He said he loved her.  He should have tried harder.  He should have forced her to keep fighting!"

"Perhaps he did.  Maybe that's why she lasted as long she did.  When we are called from this world, a person can only resist so much.  Nothing can stop us from going when it's our time.  You know that as well as I do."

A long silence passed, with only the leaves rustling above us to create any sound.  I stared at my shoes with my head in my hands and my elbows braced against my knees, struggling to absorb what she'd said.  It was true, I knew my mother probably fought as much as she could.  It wasn't fair to hate her.  But why did it have to be her time in the first place?  She was so young.  Not even twenty-eight.  It was an injustice that someone sweet and beautiful and loving like my mother had to be robbed from this world.

And that was another thing that I was just going to have to get over.

I sighed and leaned my head back against the bark.

"So, did I tell you about this crazy weekend I had?"

She giggled, which made me smile, and that made her laugh even louder.

"You're smiling!  I don't think I've ever seen you smile."  Her hand found mine on the grass and covered it, her long fingers intertwining with mine.  "You should do it more often.  It looks nice on you."

I swallowed again as I looked down at our hands, and then up at her face. 

"I'll think about it," I said carefully.

"Good."  She leaned forward and planted a light kiss on my cheek, then disengaged and stood up.  "I'll see you tomorrow in class."

I didn't move.  I just sat there, frozen, looking up at the nearly-full moon long after she'd disappeared into the darkness. 

Just like that, with one tiny little kiss, she'd erased all the misery building within me for the past two days.  I raised my hand and covered my cheek; the skin burned still.  It was a memory that, indeed, remained. 

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Disclaimer:  I do not own these characters