Even when Yoshio was home…he kind of wasn't.

Sundays were for family. That was how it was here. Monday through Saturday your soul belonged to the company. On Sunday you got to come home to your family, to your wife, to your children. On Sunday you went places, you did things, you spoke to your family at least!

Or you just planted yourself down onto the couch and watched men beat each other with bamboo swords.

"Come on…he's open! Right there!" said Yoshio, pointing to the TV like the people on the other side could see him or something. Touichirou did that sometimes. He liked to crawl up to the TV and put his hands right up against the screen…sometimes the picture went out…one time one of the tubes had burnt out…

Touichirou was paying more attention to his father than the TV.

"Why doesn't he just shove the other guy out of the ring?" asked Abigail. Five channels, six on a clear day, and this was the only thing on. This was what Yoshio had gotten up early to watch. Men hitting each other with baboo swords. Not even in any way that made sense, though she had never been that much of a sports person. Not like Yoshio was.

"Abi, I told you before, that's an illegal move. Remember? When we went to all of those matches?" asked Yoshio

"It was so long ago I forgot. Sorry. Maybe if you took me out once in a while I would-" said Abigail. She didn't want to spend her Sundays at a kendo match, and she doubted that Touichirou could handle it. He didn't do well outdoors. Everything made him fussy…..furious…wild….

But, of course, now that his father was home he was a perfect little angel.

"Honestly. I could do better than that!" Said Yoshio. He looked at her and pointed at the television like he expected her to know what she was looking at. One of the men had dropped his bamboo sword. She figured that was wrong. Of course he could have just picked it up and gotten back to it. It wasn't like he'd been hurt or anything like that. They wore so much armor it was amazing that they could even move. Why they overcomplicated sword fighting so badly she would never have known.

It wasn't like she was going to ask Yoshio. The last thing she wanted to do this Sunday was listen to a long kendo lecture.

"I'm sure you could." said Abigail. Touichirou was poking the television. He had crawled over and now he was tapping the screen…and the picture was getting brighter.

"I mean come on!" said Yoshio

"Uh-huh." Said Abigail, bouncing one leg on the other. Touichirou was starting to get worked up thanks to Yoshio…not good.

"I know I could. Dropping his shinai, how disgraceful. If I had dared to be so careless my father would have climbed down from the stands, picked up my shinai, and beaten me with it right then and there." Said Yoshio, his eyebrows coming together like two lonely caterpillars.

"Yeah, sure." Said Abigail. Touichirou…he calmed himself down sometimes. He got this look in his eyes and then he was back to…well, not normal, he had never been normal…but back to normal for him. Sometimes he realized that she wasn't going to give into him and he went about his business. Sometimes, though, he just kept crying and crying and crying…it sounded so unnatural when he cried.

Unnatural things happened when he cried.

"He did, actually, once. I deserved it, of course. Not only did I drop my shinai but I stepped out of the ring, too." Said Yoshio

"That's something." Said Abigail. Touichirou's eyebrows were coming together, just like Yoshio's did sometimes. Was he actually upset or just mirroring his father? He mirrored her sometimes. If she smiled enough at him then he'd smile back…though it never did look natural.

"Nearly broke my arm, actually. Made me better in the long run, really. These coaches these are so soft, I swear. Touichirou had better not end up with one of these marshmallows when he starts up…actually, when do you think he'll be old enough to start? He's trying to stand so…soon?" asked Yoshio

"All of that over a sword fight? They aren't even real swords." Said Abigail. Touichirou was trying to stand…maybe he would get distracted…or maybe he would just fall down and get even more upset…it was always a tossup…

"What?" asked Yoshio

"Huh?" asked Abigail, looking away from Touichirou. Yoshio was looking at her like…right, right, this was his version of family time…of course if he wanted her to pay attention then he could have maybe changed the topic of conversation to something they both cared about.

"What about a sword fight?" asked Yoshio

"Just that your father shouldn't have treated you like that." Said Abigail. She didn't know why he was still so hung up on his parents. They had made it perfectly clear that they wanted nothing to do with him and it wasn't like he needed them for money or anything. They had been so against all of this that they hadn't even moved into the house with her and Yoshio after they got married.

No great loss.

"My father doesn't tolerate failure, he never has and he never will, and for good reason." Said Yoshio

"I'm sure he doesn't." said Abigail as she leaned forward and grabbed Touichirou by the back of his body suit. The channel changed as he cried out…something was wrong with the television, or the electricity, or the baby…he looked up at her.

His eyes were empty.

Of course there was something wrong with the baby…but it had nothing to do with ghosts, or whatever the hell she thought that it had been. It had everything to do with faulty wiring and cheap manufacturing. That was all. Yoshio, on those rare times they had actual conversations, loved telling her about how cheap his company was finding labor and materials. Apparently computer parts had a lot of hard to find metals in them or something. She didn't know. She didn't really care, actually, and she was more than a little sick of hearing about work.

She wondered, sometimes, what he would have done if they hadn't married…probably have a murphy bed put in or something.

"Put him down, he doesn't like that." Said Yoshio. Abigail's eyes narrowed. She didn't move a muscle. Touichirou struggled to get free. She could feel his little feet digging into her stomach, the hair on the back of her neck standing up…those things were not related.

"Excuse me?" asked Abigail, holding Touichirou close. Yoshio reached for him…what? Now he wanted to hold his son? For the first time in she didn't even know how long?

"He's crying, he wants you to put him down." Said Yoshio, talking to her like she was a child.

"He's fine." Said Abigail through gritted teeth. What would he have known about what Touichirou did and did not want? He was gone six days out of seven. It was a miracle that Touichirou even recognized him.

"He's clearly not-" said Yoshio

"He's fine, Yoshio. What would you even know? You never see him. You never see me. You're never around and even if you are then-then it's like you're not!" said Abigail

"What are you talking about?" asked Yoshio

"I'm talking about the fact that I never see you! You're never here, I don't even know if Touichirou knows who you are and…and you don't know anything about him! Or me! You don't even care! You're gone all the time and…and you miss out on everything and…and you have no right to tell me how to take care of MY son!" said Abigail

"Abigail-" said Yoshio

"And he's my son, not yours! You're never here with him! If you're going to be gone then-then…if you want to miss everything then-then….here! You take care of him if you know so much!" said Abigail. She shoved Touichirou into Yoshio's arms and got up. If that was the way that he was going to be then-then he could have him! If he thought that he was father of the year then he could act like it!

She got up.

She slid, a bit, as she practically ran from the living room. She needed…she had work to do. She had a lot to do and none of that involved him…nothing involved him. He led his own life outside of the house doing God only knew what…she didn't care. If he was going to act like this, if he was going to make her feel like…if he was going to treat her like nothing then he was going to get the same treatment!

He wanted to spend all of his time working? Fine. So did she.

She got out a piece of paper. A big one. This was going to be…she didn't know yet. She got her ink out. She didn't bother to dilute it. She needed something unmoving, something permanent. She slashed a line across the page. Then another one. Then another one. A series of crossing lines. A series of…she didn't know yet! A series of something. Something that she was going to figure out later! And why did it have to be anything at all! Abstraction was a thing!

Abstraction was stupid.

She hadn't come her to be abstract. She had come here to be the best. She had come here to…well of course there was an element of abstraction to it all. Realism was present but not literal realism. The idea of it. This was all….this was all real abstraction. That was all. This was…

It was a work in progress.

A lot of progress. She didn't know what this work was yet but it would become something…eventually. She diluted her ink, the worst of it passed. The worst always passed quickly. That anger, the kind that built up like a shook up bottle of soda pop. It came and it went. She was…better. Tired…sore, but that was normal too.

She was fine.

Yoshio'd had it coming. He really had. He shouldn't have dared to have even thought that he knew what was best for Touichirou. He didn't. He would have had to be a father to have known anything about his son…he should have been a husband to know anything about his wife…he didn't know anything about her. He would have had to spend time with her to know anything about her. He would have had to get her out of this house…this box…

This room.

She kept on working. Touichirou was crying…he was fine. He was with his father. She worked while he cried. If Yoshio had been around more then he would have known what to do. If he had spent more than one day a week with his family then he would have known what to do. If he acted like he even had a family then he would have known what to do…the crying…she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. The ink was perfect, now, thin. She had managed to make a thin, silvery, grey…movement. Water. Transience? She filled the space between the lines. She filled it until…she didn't know what. Water? Rivers? Rivers and dams?

Some kind of abstraction.

It wasn't so hard…that was why it was cheap. Anyone could slap colors onto a canvas and call it art. Toma Yovanovich had made a career out of it. There was abstraction with…with purpose. There was…she felt better. She wasn't finished but she felt better…she couldn't hear Touichirou crying anymore. Good. Abigail got up. Yoshio had seen it her way.

The right way.

Mom had always said that the man may have been the head of the household but the woman was the neck and she could turn the head any way she wanted to. All Yoshio had needed was a little push. Now he was going to keep more normal hours, normal for her, and he was going to actually help her with the baby. She wasn't too into the whole lib thing but husbands helping out more with the kids was nice. Spending time with her, too. Even Dad had spent more than one day a week with the family when she'd been a kid, even during the war, of course she had been young then. Very young…a baby when it started…

If her father, bastard that he was, could make time with her even with the war on then Yoshio could take a break from building his damn computers to spend more than one afternoon a week with his family.

"Yoshio? Are you done watching your sword fighting now?" asked Abigail as she walked into the living room. She kicked Touichirou's rocket ship out of the way…no Yoshio. No Touichirou either…had he taken him out? Abigail doubted that he even knew where the stroller was…the TV was still on. He would have turned it off if he had left…she heard movement in the kitchen. She glanced at the clock on the wall….oh. It was more than past time to feed Touichirou.

Yoshio had thought to feed him.

She could have kissed that man…and then she could have killed him. She walked into the kitchen hoping to find her husband getting some actual food into their child but, instead, she found Touichirou sitting in front of the open refrigerator. An empty bottle was on the floor next to him. He was rolling a bottle of ketchup back and forth on the floor…and Yoshio was nowhere to be seen….

He had left Touichirou all alone.

A rush of something cold. Her skin, her blood, all of her turned cold in that instant. The fridge…he could have climbed into it. She knew that he could climb…this fridge was smaller than the one she'd had back home but it was still big enough for a baby to climb inside…and having it opened like that could not have been good for the motor. She had fish in there, that night's dinner, and some shrimp she had been planning on deep frying too…and that wasn't to mention the milk….she closed the fridge before Touichirou could climb inside.

He would have done it, too, just because he could.

Touichirou looked up at her, the bottle of ketchup in his hands. He didn't know but…but it was made of glass. Touichirou had no idea how easy it would have been to shatter it…all the glass…right there in his little hands. He would have been hurt…he could have died…

She picked him up.

He started to cry. Again. He loved to cry…well, he had no choice. He was so little. He was her little baby boy and….and he had been all alone. She held him close and rocked him. He must have been so scared. It was such a horrible thing to be alone. He was too little…Yoshio had left him…why was he still crying? Abigail as holding him, and rocking him, and that should have been enough for him. But he was still trying to get away, still pushing her, still squirming…but she was here. She was going to keep him safe. Yoshio had left him all alone…

He had been fine.

He had gotten himself a bottle from the refrigerator. It was too cold, he was going to have a stomachache later, but he had no way of heating it up. He had known where she had kept his bottles…he would have starved if she hadn't premade so many of them. If she had worked harder at getting him to eat real food. Maybe he didn't need her anymore. He was nearly walking, and he was starting to form the beginnings of words, and…and he'd be one in a few months. Then two. Then three…and then at some point he wouldn't need her for anything anymore….

She didn't put him down.

She picked him up and carried him into the living room. Music World was on. He loved Music World. Then after that it was that show with the robots that he liked. The ads, too, he loved the ads. He loved….sometimes it felt like he loved everything but her. Sometimes it felt like she could have been anyone, like he had no idea that she was his mother, like she was just this…this person…or not even a person. Like she was just this robot that existed to take care of him…

She didn't put him down.

She had just gotten to feeling better. She could feel it building again, the anger, the rage, she could feel it pulsing in her skull. Her body tensed. She held Touichirou in her arms as she walked up to the TV. She turned it to Music World and started to bounce him…it didn't help. He kept on crying.

He cried through most of Music World.

She put him down on the floor, eventually, and he stopped. He just crawled over to his rocket ship and got back to chewing on it. His favorite hobby next to crying. She watched him play. She could feel it building again…she needed a smoke. She hadn't smoked since before Touichirou. The smell of it had made her sick. Even Yoshio had stopped for her. Afterwards she just hadn't picked it back up. It was damn near impossible to find Lucky's all the way over here…she would have settled for anything about now.

She wrung her hands.

Ink. She was covered in…she had no idea what it suggested. She had no idea what this color even was. Faded and sunk in, like she was a piece of rice paper left in the sun. She wrung her hands…it was still there. There was no getting away from it. Black, like permanence. Black like….like she would always be this way. Like she would always be…be this person. Be trapped here, like this. Be stuck…Touichirou crawled over to the TV. He pressed his little hands against it and stood up. He was getting to be such a big boy and she was…she was still here. Alone.

No matter how much time passed she was always going to be alone.

It was easy to feel alone when she was with Touichirou. He was just a baby…her baby. Somehow this little person was half of her. She could see it, mostly in his coloring. His eyes, his hair, his freckles…she did her best to keep him out of the sun. Her best, of course, wasn't good enough. It was never good enough. Not for anyone.

Not even for herself.

Certainly not for Touichirou. He tried to walk, fell, and then got back up again. He looked at her once and then got back to trying to walk. He couldn't even take one step. She could have helped him…but that was what his walker was for. She wasn't up to doing anything right now. She just wanted to sit and…and be. And wait for the feeling to subside…she could have gone back to work…it wasn't like Touichirou would have noticed.

He was a baby, her was her baby…hers and Yoshio's. Of course he didn't notice.

That might have just been how he was. He didn't notice, or care, when the sound of a car pulling up could be heard. He didn't notice, either, when the lock turned and the front door opened. Abigail noticed. She just didn't do anything. Yoshio had left Touichirou all alone…anything could have happened to him…and then she would have been without him. She couldn't lose him.

She couldn't prove everyone right.

"Honey, I'm home." Said Yoshio. She crossed her arms and leaned forwards. She wasn't in the mood right now.

"Did I say that right? Honey, I'm home…that's correct, right?" asked Yoshio. Abigail shrugged. Touichirou looked at her, his father, and then back at the television. He slapped the screen once…and the channel went to snow…

She kept on watching it.

"Or did I say something horribly offensive and now you're never going to speak to me again?" asked Yoshio. He was standing over her, casting a shadow. She scooted to the far right out of the couch, out of the light.

"You left the baby all alone. What do you think?" asked Abigail

"You were home." Said Yoshio as he sat down beside her. There was a box in his lap, all wrapped up in shiny gold paper, with a bow on top. She could see herself…there was ink on her face and her hair was flat and lifeless.

She looked away.

"I was working." Said Abigail

"You were…oh, right, your art." Said Yoshio

"My work." Said Abigail

"Right…well it all worked out. I told Touichirou that if he needed anything he needed to go to you. He's a smart boy, he understood me." said Yoshio

"He got his own bottle out of the fridge. By himself. I didn't even know you were gone." Said Abigail

"That's my boy." Said Yoshio

"So I guess that's for him, then?" asked Abigail motioning towards the box.

"No, it's for you. Here, open it." Said Yoshio. He put the box down on her lap. She tugged at the bow.

"What's the occasion?" asked Abigail

"The occasion of you being upset with me…but I think that this is going to help. Go on, open it. Don't be afraid to tear the paper off. I had the shopgirl use the nice paper but it's ok, it's worth it if it's for you." said Yoshio. Abigail tugged at the bow until it came apart. It was worth it as long as it was for her…Yoshio had said that so many times before. Rooftop bars, exclusive art collections, fancy restaurants…it was worth it as long as it was for her. It's twin phrase 'I like showing you off' was nowhere to be seen…of course. That part was over now. They were married and this was what married people did. The wife lived her life trapped in the house and the husband worked forty eight hours a day to support his family.

But at least he brought home gifts.

She tossed the bow onto the ground and immediately got to work on the paper. It was kind of heavy…not another necklace. She hardly even wore jewelry, nothing besides the peace medallion, and that was never coming off no matter what Yoshio said. She still believed in peace and she didn't care what people thought…they thought enough about her as it was. She tossed the last of the paper onto the floor. Touichirou tried to walk over, took one step and fell, before resorting to crawling. He picked up the paper and waved it in the air…so hard that pieces beside him began to fly up into the air…

She picked up her present.

"A…polaroid camera?" asked Abigail. The kanji on the front said 'instant camera' so…a polaroid? She had one already, it was in a box somewhere with her stuff. It had been a hand me down from Mom, a sort of non-present, 'take lots of pictures on your trip'…that was what Mom had said when she had been chosen…one of five and the only woman chosen and Mom still hadn't…

She handed Yoshio the camera. She didn't need another one.

"No, not a polaroid. Polaroid can't even come close to this picture quality….and in half the time, too. You don't even have to shake these and they come in color." Said Yoshio. He passed it back to her, kind of like Touichirou sometimes handed her things he found. Coins in the couch, loose buttons, a chopstick once…

It was in the eyebrows, she decided. Definitely the eyebrows.

"I already have a camera." Said Abigail. Touichirou was tugging on her stocking, now. She pulled her leg away before he could put a run in it. He went back to his paper. Good. Maybe if he was good then she'd let him have the box to play with later. He loved boxes, Yoshio brought reem paper boxes home from work sometimes…

This was really more of a gift for Touichirou than anything.

"I know but this one is better, now take it. Trust me, it's top of the line and so simple anyone can use it, even a woman." Said Yoshio

"Fine, I'll take it. What is this even for, anyway? You want me to take up photography instead of painting? Because I won't. Photography is cheap, Yoshio, there's no skill to it." Said Abigail

"This thing was anything but cheap, Abi, anything but cheap. It's top of the line, only the best for you." said Yoshio

"What am I supposed to do with it?" asked Abigail

"Take pictures, of course. Of the baby. This way you won't have to get them developed. They'll be ready for me by the time I get home." Said Yoshio

"What are you talking about?" asked Abigail

"You said that you were upset because I was missing things so, here, take pictures of the things I missed and then I'll review them when I get home." Said Yoshio. Abigail held the box in her hands. That was…an idea. He had tried. He had…she looked up. Her eyes met his. They were soft…he was looking right at her.

She put the box down.

"Thank you, Yoshio, it's…it's nice." Said Abigail before she leaned in and kissed him. It really was nice and…and he'd really tried. He had thought of her…that was more than most people did. She didn't really want to spend her days taking pictures, as an art form it was cheap and very pedestrian, but…he had tied. He had tried for her…that was more than a lot of people had, before….

It was a lot…maybe even enough to make her feel like he was there when he wasn't….which was nearly always.