Warnings: Abuse/neglect of a child, language.
Lucky Child
Chapter 03:
"Moral, Kind, and Steadfast"
"Okaasan, why is that boy so dirty?"
'That boy' was in the other room with my father, using chopsticks as makeshift walrus tusks. Otosan howled with laughter as Yusuke tried to slurp noodles around the sticks, young face splattered with broth. It was Yusuke's second bowl of ramen. The first had vanished mere minutes after my father placed it before him on the table. He had inhaled it like it was the last good meal he'd eat for a long time.
I wondered if it was the first good meal he'd eaten in a long time.
My parents were noble people. They were moral, kind, and steadfast. My previous parents would have scoffed if I brought home a dirty stranger and asked if he could stay for dinner. They would have asked what the neighbors would say, and forbid me from bringing Yusuke by again.
The Yukimuras just smiled, asked for my new friend's name, and made him ramen with extra kamaboko fish cakes, since he said they were his favorite.
My parents were moral, kind, and steadfast people. I had never loved them more than in that moment.
Mother and I watched Yusuke and my father from the kitchen doorway. Earlier I'd been sitting with Yusuke, laughing at his antics and egging him on. He seemed to like the attention. When I saw my mother watching, I walked up to her, grabbed her hand, and asked about the dirt. Her eyes tightened in response. She watched Yusuke carefully, like a gaze too fierce might send him running.
Children aren't supposed to know the signs of abuse and neglect, much less point out those signs to their parents. I had to choose my next words very carefully.
"He was so hungry," I said. "Hungry and dirty. I'm glad he likes ramen. Aren't you?"
"I'm glad," she agreed.
"Can he come back again?" I asked. "He might get hungry again."
She didn't hesitate. "Of course he can come back," she said. "He's welcome absolutely any time you want to bring him by." She ruffled my hair. "You're such a caring little girl. Never let that change, Keiko." Her dark eyes darkened further. "Did he say where he lives?"
"No."
"I see. Well, we'll have to walk him home later. His mother might be looking for him." She smoothed her hands over her apron, took a deep breath, and smiled—a brittle expression of hollow hope. "Keiko, would you wait here a minute?"
She left the kitchen and sat at Yusuke's side. I watched my parents as they talked to the boy. Something my mother asked made Yusuke hang his head, but then my father spoke and Yusuke began to smile—hesitantly at first, and then freely. It lit up his eyes from the inside, lanterns glowing behind thin paper.
What were they saying to him?
My hands, soft with a child's fat, fisted and squeezed.
My parents didn't know what I did about Yusuke's family. That Atsuko was a drunk. That Yusuke's father, according to one of the final chapters of the manga, had often raised his fist to his family before leaving them. Yusuke's thin cheeks and dirty clothes raised red flags, flags I hoped my faux-innocent comments drew attention toward...but my parents were moral, kind, and steadfast people, who always assumed the best in others.
I loved them. But did they see what I saw?
Were they capable of that?
And if they were, would they be willing to intervene?
My mother waved me over after a few minutes. I sat next to Yusuke, giggling when he slurped noodles so hard, they flipped and splatted against his nose. Yusuke blinked and sputtered; I laughed harder.
"Yusuke is new in town," Okaasan said. "He'll be attending your school, too. Isn't that exciting?"
I nodded. Yusuke eyed me, sizing me up, and looked away when I caught him staring. His cheeks darkened with a hectic blush.
"You two will have to look out for one another," my mother said. She ruffled our hair, one hand for each lucky child. "It's good to have friends, and Yusuke, you seem like such a nice boy!"
Yusuke startled. He went still, eyes wide—and then that blush got deeper. Try though he might, he couldn't help the shy, pleased smile threatening his features. And when my father chucked his arm and told him to look out for me, since he was such a strong young man, Yusuke grinned outright.
Later, after Yusuke ate his fill, my mother and I walked him home. He lived in an apartment right on the edge of the neighborhood, close to the warehouse district. It wasn't a bad place, but it didn't have the auntie network boasted by my quiet streets. No wonder Yusuke got in trouble. There was no one to look out for him at all.
My mood darkened like the sky at dusk, when I thought of that.
Yusuke's family in Yu Yu Hakusho had always bothered me. The anime glossed over his living situation, downplayed his lack of support, made light of how he was treated. Atsuko was the portrait of a neglectful parent. Why he hadn't been taken from her I couldn't say. Honestly, it was no surprise Yusuke turned into a delinquent. He hadn't had a good role model or supportive parent in his life. Much as I had never liked children, my blood boiled at the thought of turning a blind eye on an abused child—not when I had the power to do something. Just wasn't in my nature to ignore injustice.
But was it my job to change Yusuke's fate?
Or was I obligated to let his life run its course exactly the way it had in the anime and manga?
If I had the power to change his life for the better, was it immoral of me not to use that power?
Or was it immoral and arrogant of me to assume I knew what was better for him, and to interfere with a fate I might not fully understand?
I didn't want Yusuke to be taken away from Atsuko, necessarily. The anime made it clear she loved him, even if she didn't take proper care of her son. Yusuke's heart of gold (chipped and battered though it may be) would turn out OK no matter how poor her influence.
…but could he turn out better than OK, if things regarding his home life changed?
I was just a kid, though. My mental maturity was useless when housed in such young skin.
How much could my small influence and quiet voice possibly change things?
As we walked Yusuke home that night, I barely felt my mother's hand squeezing my fingers. I barely heard Yusuke as he chattered about how good and tasty the ramen was. How it was so much better than the ramen he ate from a carton for dinner most nights.
I heard my mother's short, startled gasp loud and clear when Yusuke said he'd only just learned how not to burn himself when he made his ramen at home. He'd learned to boil the kettle all by himself. His mother wasn't around much. He fended for himself most nights.
Fuck.
That settled it.
I had to help change things.
I couldn't let something like that slide.
Atsuko opened the apartment door half a minute after we knocked. She wore a nightie, no shoes, hair loose and long around her shoulders. She was prettier than Okaasan, mostly because she was so much younger. 14 when she had Yusuke, if I remembered correctly. Coincidentally, that had been my previous-life-grandmother's age when she birthed my previous-life-mother. My mom's life had been hard as a result, but that grandmother had been my favorite person in the whole world. Pity surged inside me. Maybe Atsuko was like my grandmother, forced to grow up too soon and—
Atsuko's eyes narrowed when she saw Yusuke.
"Where've you been, you little shit?" Atsuko asked.
Yusuke didn't flinch at her words. His chest swelled; his chin rose.
"I made a friend," he said.
He reached out and took my hand.
I closed my eyes.
Fuck. Fuck. I had to help this kid. I had to.
I had to.
Okaasan stepped forward, then, and bowed. I bowed, too. It was expected.
"Thank you for letting your son play with my daughter," she said. "I am Yukimura Sawako, and this is Keiko-chan. My husband and I run the Yukimura Ramen Shop on Block E. Yusuke-kun spent the afternoon with us. I hope we caused you no inconvenience. Your son is welcome in our shop any time, as are you."
Atsuko stared at her a minute. Then she bowed back, just the barest dip of her head.
"Yeah, thanks," she said. She turned and walked inside, out of sight. It was dark in there. Stray bottles and cans caught the flicking streetlight, dark stars on a carpet sky. "C'mon, Yusuke."
Yusuke glanced at my mother, then at me. My mother knelt and grabbed his shoulders before he could go indoors.
"Yusuke," she said. "Do you remember how to get to the ramen shop from here? Or to the park, at least?"
Small lips pursed. "Yeah."
"Come play any time. You can have as much ramen as you like."
His mouth parted. "You—you mean it?"
"Yes." Her smile was as warm as it was sad. "We'd love to have you there again, whenever you'd like. Isn't that right, Keiko?"
"Of course," I said. "I like playing with you, Yusuke."
He blushed again. Kid did that a lot. He mumbled thanks and dipped a hasty bow, but as he turned on his heel, I said his name. He stopped walking and squinted in my direction.
I jumped forward and hugged him around the neck. Hard. He smelled like dirt and ramen.
"Friends forever, OK?" I said against his ear.
Took him a minute, but soon Yusuke's arms looped around my back.
"Yeah," he said. "OK. Friends."
We were halfway home, night pressing tight against our shoulders, when my mother stopped. She knelt and looked me in the eye. There were tears in hers. She didn't let them fall.
"You asked me earlier why Yusuke was so dirty," she said.
I nodded.
"You're young, Keiko," she said. "You're smart, but there are things I don't want you to know just yet. Do you understand?"
Again, I nodded.
"But because you're so smart, and because you're so kind, I think it's good that I tell you this."
She took a deep breath. This time, a lone tear tracked down her copper skin. She wiped it away and tried to smile. The smile shook as much as her words.
"I love you very much," my mother told me. "Your father and I would do anything for you. You're our little girl. You're clean because we care for you. Because we care for you and love you, we wash your clothes and tell you when there's dirt on your face. But some children aren't as lucky as my lucky little girl."
"They aren't?" I said.
"No, honey," Okaasan said. "Some children don't have anyone to tell them their face is dirty." Hands squeezed my shoulders, but gently. "That's where you and I come in—we have to be that person who tells them, and wipes the dirt away."
She hugged me tight. I hugged her back. When she pulled away, I was crying.
"Oh, Keiko, don't be sad." She scrubbed a thumb across my tears. "Yusuke will be fine. You'll see."
I let her hug me again.
I didn't tell her that I wasn't crying because I was sad.
I was crying because I was relieved—and guilty.
Relieved that she saw Yusuke's situation for what it was, and wanted to help improve it.
Guilty that this moral, kind, and steadfast woman loved me, when I wasn't really her lucky little girl at all.
[[A wise woman once told me there were kids who have no one to tell them their faces are dirty—a wise woman who, much like Keiko's mom was there for Yusuke, was there for me when my own family was not. I modeled Sawako after her. She died recently, so I guess this chapter was for her, meager tribute though it may be.
Keiko's parents seemed to really love Yusuke even though he was such a ne'er-do-well, and that's always confused me. Wouldn't they want a more mature friend/partner for their child? I wanted to show their bond with him to fix that plot hole.
THANKS to witchlouise, DarkDust27, and Life Dealer, who reviewed chapter 2. So glad to hear from you. And LifeDealer, your comments in particular were so kind. THANKS! Still wary of this story being too out-there; your comments gave me a lot of encouragement.]]
