Today's remedial lessons were brutal.

Even Recovery Girl decided not to heal all my injuries.

And I have to go see Mom in this condition.

I don't want her to fret over me. She already has enough on her hands.

But this visit was prescheduled. My siblings wanted to join us for a long time, and after weeks we found a mutual slot of free time in our schedules. Just before we pass through the hospital ward doors, I pat my cheeks and nose to make sure the band-aids are secure.

When we open the door and step through, my siblings yell, "SURPRISE!", and I smile earnestly. Fuyumi and Natsuo were pleasantly astonished when they learned that I had started visiting Mom after all these years. So it was their idea to return the sentiment to her by meeting her together. The plan works. Mom is stunned silent as she brings her hands to cover her mouth and gapes at the three of us. Then she cries tears of joy. Her arms spread wide open to embrace us.

My brother and sister do not hesitate as they hug her, but they have to pull at me a little to get me to do the same. All the times I've come to the hospital to see Mom, physical interaction has been limited. It's not that I am averse to the idea of getting a hug from her - I used to crave them all the time after training endlessly with Dad as a child - but the psychological scars were still too fresh in both our minds. So when I feel her arms wrap around me, I freeze before slowly easing into the gesture. My arms rise to return the embrace. This is … nostalgic. Her hands are still cool, but the gentle breeze kind of cool. The kind that brings relief in the summer and carries the scent of fresh grass and aged bark. The kind that promises that everything will be all right. I hug Mom harder. She holds on to me longer, too.

But when we ease back, she notices the injuries, and her eyes that were full of warmth and elation now fill with concern and trepidation. Her fingers hover above the band-aids, especially the one below my left eye. I can only imagine how guilty she feels, though it is misplaced. But I don't know what to say that will help her. I'm failing as a son. The though comes unbidden in my mind, and though I shove it back instantly, the tinge of remorse that it brought with it is not so easy to escape.

Mom inquires about her day-to-day lives. Fuyumi starts by detailing all the fun she is having teaching students in primary school. "You'd think that grading the tests of six-year-olds would be a stress reliever. It is until you have to decipher their scribbles. It's like each one has created a new kanji lexicon," she complains playfully. She goes on to tell about how she might be getting a promotion, which colleague is suspected to be dating whom, the principal's bipolar moods, and the cafeteria's mediocre standard food.

Natsuo has a more interesting story to tell. His two-year anniversary with his girlfriend is nearing, and they are planning a lavish celebration to commemorate. He even mentions bringing his girlfriend to meet Mom. Given that he is starting his second year of college now, he is searching for internships and entry-level jobs within the medical field.

And Mom smiles and continues the conversation about their interests and activities. The doctors told her during her last checkup that her health is improving, mental and physical. She has been showing good signs lately. At this rate, she might even be discharged from the hospital in a few months. I'm happy for her. She can have her life back. But then my happiness dampens as I realize who will be waiting for her, waiting to ruin her life again.

I notice that none of us mention Endeavor. Especially when he is the reason where we are at now. Fuyumi is a school teacher because she felt responsible for not doing more for me when we were children. Natsuo is studying medicine because Mom's admission to the psych ward and subsequent treatment as a mental patient scarred him. And Mom's newfound vigor is due to Endeavor's lessening influence in her and our lives.

At least, that was what she believed.

Unintentionally or not, Dad is the subject of my thoughts again. Part of the reason why I came here was because I wanted to talk to Mom about him. Fuyumi and Natsuo are great listeners and give excellent advice, but there are some things better discussed with a parent than a sibling. But after hearing how all of them are doing so wonderfully these days, I don't have the courage to sour the atmosphere. It just seems too cruel.

So when Mom turns to me to ask how I'm doing, I lie that everything is fine. "Remedial lessons are tiresome. These injuries are from that. Otherwise, things are going smoothly. There has been talk about first-years being permitted to participate in internships if a few conditions are met. I'm trying my best to earn my license." Maybe I should have worded that differently. I can read the emotions on Mom's face like words on a book. She is thinking about what that means. Before she or my siblings can go down that train of thought, I add on, "And, I joined a collaborative writing and drawing competition with my friend."

It works as a distraction. The three of them are intrigued for a different reason now. I explain the rules of the competition. When they question whether we have completed the first entry, I lie again that it is still in the process. How can I tell them the first prompt? They are perceptive. It will take them less than five seconds to put the pieces together.

This moment is a gem.

I want to treasure it, and they have the right to do, too.

So in spite of my sabotaging thoughts, I plaster a smile on my face and enjoy this time with my family.