"Mama!"

Sabine Sohma paused in the act of putting on her shawl, looking up at the sound of her daughter's anxious voice as Momo came hurrying down the stairs.

"What is it, Momo?" Sabine asked in her gently accented voice, her expression concerned. "Is there something wrong?"

Momo's face was equally concerned. "Mama, we forgot about my passport!"

Sabine's eyes widened, and she drew her hands to her mouth. "Oh nein! You're right, Momo, I completely forgot to talk to Papa!" Her eyes flew to the clock, then back to her daughter. "What time do you have to be at the school tomorrow to leave for your trip?"

"Six," Momo said, her voice miserable, and Sabine looked anxiously back at the clock before looking back at Momo.

"I am so very sorry, mein Liebling. It completely slipped my mind." She took a deep breath. "You know Papa und I have this dinner tonight, und he is waiting for me even now at the office, ja?" Sabine said, her expression anxious, and Momo nodded with the same worried face she'd been wearing ever since she came down. "Und we won't be back until very, very late."

Momo's expression started to get panicked, and Sabine went into maternal damage control. "But I believe Papa keeps the passports und important family documents in his desk. Since this is an emergency, you can go und look for it yourself, ja? Then either let me know you've found it, or else I will have Papa get it for you first thing when we get back tonight. We will both be up to see you off before you leave either way, und we will make sure you have your passport ready for you. Will that be ok?"

Momo gave her mother a hesitant look. "Are you sure Papa won't mind, Mama? I know usually he doesn't like to have anyone else going in his desk."

Sabine looked at the clock again, then gave a swift shake of her head. "Just this once, it will be fine, Momo. Just make sure you are careful und leave everything as you found it, ja? Find your passport, und that's all."

Relief washed over Momo's features, and she nodded. "I'll be careful, Mama, I promise! And I'll let you know as soon as I find it, if I do."

"If you don't find it in Papa's desk, then just leave it for him. He knows where to find things in his office better than either of us could," Sabine said with a smile, and Momo nodded. Then she looked up at her mother, beaming.

"You look beautiful, Mama. I hope you and Papa have a nice time at the dinner."

Sabine beamed back. "Danke, liebe Momo. I hope you find your passport quickly, und Papa und I will see you in the morning."

"Gute Nacht, Mama!"

"Gute Nacht, Momo!"


As the front door closed behind her mother, Momo let out a soft sigh. That had almost been absolutely terrible; her second-year high school class was leaving on their class trip to Seoul the very next morning, and anyone who didn't have their passport wouldn't be able to go. She'd first brought up her passport with her mother over a month ago, and Sabine had promised to get it from Momo's father as soon as possible...and then, clearly, they'd both forgotten about it.

At least she'd been able to catch her mother before she left. Momo was all too aware of the nature of her father's business dinners, where both of her parents would be gone late and completely unreachable. If she'd missed Sabine, Momo would have had no choice but to either wait up for her parents to come home or else try to wake one of them early the next morning, and given how late they'd be home and how early she needed to be at school to start with...both of those options would have been terrible.

She admittedly felt that Sabine's solution was a little terrible, too, at least in terms of Momo's nerves. Her father had always been very particular about his desk, telling Momo solemnly since her earliest recollections that his desk was a place where he did work and kept important papers. It was not a place to play; she was only ever even allowed in his office normally if he was there, too. The idea of going into his desk like this, even for something this urgent, was a little intimidating.

But Sabine had said it was ok, Momo reminded herself as she climbed to the second floor and walked to her father's office door. Her father might be the businessman, but her parents were a partnership; it wasn't a case in their house of 'the man is the head of the household and the woman walks ten paces behind.'

So if Sabine said it was ok...then it had to be ok.


Her father's desk was large and solid, dominating the office. Papa had a similar desk in his office at work, too; he'd told her once that it always made him feel more confident, to have a strong, solid desk at which to work.

A desk, that Momo immediately saw as she nervously approached, had several drawers.

If she was her father, where would she keep passports?

More to rule them out than anything, Momo check the top drawers, first. Office supplies, mostly; pens, sticky notes, and small note pads which, she knew, Koshiro Sohma loved to have handy to jot down ideas whenever they came to him. He had a phone, obviously; more than one, at that. But he still preferred to write himself physical notes, and she could see on the top little notepad a whole bunch of random jottings.

Moving on to the next drawer, it was clear she'd found files pertaining to whatever her father was currently dealing with at work. The next drawer had more of the same, and she moved to the other side of the desk to pick up with the next drawer.

This one was promising. She immediately saw files labelled with 'house' and 'car' and 'investments' and 'insurance,' alone with one which, to her surprise, said 'Momo.' Curious, she picked up her file and opened it to find her school information, a sheet with all of her doctors' names and contact information, all of her past school report cards and transcripts, reports from her violin teacher, and other important information.

Momo was smiling as she tucked the papers back into the file folder. That was just like her father, keeping everything handy and organized. He'd always been very through, when it came to order.

There was no passport though, unfortunately, but behind the file folders in the drawer there was a large locked fireproof box. Considering the remaining contents of that drawer, Momo immediately felt that that box had to contain what she was looking for.

She only felt a tiny bit guilt as she opened back up the top middle desk drawer and pulled out the set of keys she'd noticed tucked into the far back corner. All she was going to do was look in the box, see if her passport was there, and close it back up again.

No one would ever be the wiser, if she was wrong.

The third key on the key ring proved to unlock the box, which she'd set on top of her father's desk. And as she lifted the lid, she meant to take a quick glance through and nothing more.

There were no passports, at least not on top. But from the very first moment she flipped open the lid, any and all thoughts about passports, her class trip, or that she really wasn't supposed to be doing this were gone, replaced by complete and utter confusion. Lying right at the top, the very first thing she saw, was a photo; a photo, taken in a board room full of people she didn't know...with one glaring exception.

All of the people, the obviously Western people, were sitting and listening to a speaker, who even in the picture was projecting confidence and grace as he gestured to a projection screen covered in what Momo immediately recognized as German. And as she looked at the picture, Momo's brow immediately furrowed in confusion.

Why did her father have a picture of Momiji? An obviously recent one, too?

Almost automatically, Momo went to pick up the picture, and as she did so she realized it was lying on top of an unfolded letter, also written in German. Momo hadn't initially meant to read it, but she had taken only the barest glance before the name 'Momiji' leapt up at her off the page, and she picked it up as well, to read without any hesitation.

'Koshiro,

As we discussed, please find enclosed the quarterly performance reports for Momiji Sohma's last year at XXXXXXX. At this time, we continue to hold Herr Sohma in same high regard; the opinions we formed of him during the last year have remained largely as they were. It is the considered opinion of myself and my colleagues that we would all be pleased to retain Herr Sohma at our office in Berlin indefinitely.

Regards,

Walter.'

The papers beneath the letter were clearly the performance reviews mentioned in 'Walter's' letter, and though Momo lifted them out of the box she was honestly bewildered.

Why was her father getting information about Momiji? She knew he knew Momiji, of course, and that they were cordial. But as far as Momo knew, that was it; if anything, her father had been stubbornly resistant to getting to know the man Momo had considered her 'big brother' for over seven years now. She had always thought it was ridiculous; Momiji was a Sohma, just like them; he spoke German, just like them, alone out of any of the rest of the Sohmas. It would have made sense, for them to be close.

It should have made sense. But her father had always been so very stubborn, and so they hadn't. Koshiro hadn't even been willing to let Momo have any contact with him until his second year of high school.

So why the photo? Why the reports? Why the letter, dated only one month prior?

Momo set down the photo and the papers. Beneath them was a folder; one of her father's beloved file folders, this one labelled 'Berlin.' She didn't even hesitate before pulling it open.

Momo's eyes widened as she looked at the pictures lying in the folder. All of them were of Momiji; giving a presentation, shaking someone's hand. Giving a speech. Performing with his violin quartet. Holding a diploma and laughing.

And in several of them...he was with her father.

Momo's brows knit in confusion as she ran her hand over the picture of Koshiro and Momiji hugging, both of them obviously emotional. She didn't know exactly what the occasion was, but based on the date stamp, it was taken around the time Momiji would have completed his undergraduate degree.

Her father had been there?

Her father...had hugged him?

It was normal for Koshiro to be in Berlin. His company had a few international offices, and Berlin was the second largest after Tokyo. He went there regularly, sometimes with Sabine and Momo, too.

Momo had even gotten to see Momiji in Berlin herself, a couple times in the six years he'd been living there.

But her father had never said anything, not a word. He'd never gone with her when she asked to visit Momiji, and never mentioned he'd seen him himself.

Why?

Beneath the pictures were more papers. University transcripts, from Momiji's graduate and undergraduate degrees. Concert programs. Letters of recommendation, from Momiji's professors and the companies he'd interned with while still working on his degree.

...Statements.

Momo's expression became even more confused as she realized she was looking at transaction records. Bills and receipts for tuition, and for lodgings. A copy of a lease, with Momiji's name on it...and Koshiro Sohma as the cosigner.

Momo stared at the pile of papers, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Momiji had told her, exactly once, that he had lost his parents when he was very young. That ever since, he had basically been on his own, taken care of by other Sohmas and the family servants.

The Sohmas...had always taken care of their own.

Was that what this was? Somehow, had her father ended up on the role of Momiji's...business manager? Was her father somehow responsible for Momiji?

If so, why had he never said so?

Why had he never let on they were close?

Momo replaced the papers, back in the order she'd found them. And as she laid the photos back on top, she studied the ones of Momiji and her father, especially the one where they were hugging. Where they were both so obviously emotional.

Taking a deep breath, Momo closed the folder, then set it aside. Beneath it was another folder, this one labeled 'Japan.' This time, Momo had a pretty good guess what she was going to find inside, and she wasn't disappointed.

No photos in this one, or at least, none right away. Instead, she saw a copy of Momiji's high school diploma, then his high school transcripts. His middle school diploma and transcripts. A sheet, just like there had been in her file, with his medical contact information. Sheets with his school information. Reports...from his violin teacher.

From her violin teacher. They'd had the same teacher.

Why had her father never said?

Why had Momiji never said?

Momo was rifling through the folder now with almost burning intensity, needing to know what else there was without really understanding why. All that she knew was that for years, her father had been lying to her, by omission if nothing else, and she was starting to feel that Momiji had been, too.

Why?

A copy of a lease for an address within the Sohma estate. She didn't know where specifically, but she could tell from the address it was inside the gates. A lease in her father's name, with a single name listed as an occupant: Momiji Sohma.

Receipts for payments from the Sohma family itself to her father, payments of an almost eye-poppingly huge amount.

Why? Was that payment? From the estate for him to be Momiji's business manager? But then who had his parents actually been, to warrant so much care on behalf of the main estate? Based on the amounts of money involved, amounts Momo could see were paid over regularly, she had to assume that his parents had to have been very important within the Sohma family, or else incredibly wealthy in their own right.

Possibly both.

She still didn't understand why it had been her father's job to manage everything for Momiji, or why he'd agreed to take it on. He'd been the CEO of his company for years before Momo was born, and even before Momiji was born; surely there would have been someone better suited to managing Momiji's affairs, who had more free time and more specialized knowledge.

Had they asked Koshiro because of the German connection, with Sabine? Had they hoped that maybe Koshiro would have integrated Momiji into his own family?

Except if that was the hope, when it didn't happen, then why didn't they have someone else take over Momiji's care?

Elementary records, from a German international school...the same school Momo had gone to.

Was that why her parents had wanted to send her there? Because her father already had a connection, and knew it was good?

More receipts and statements, for school tuitions and fees. Allowance records. Monthly expense reports, clearly for a small household.

That was everything in that folder, and Momo once again replaced it all, her face a mask of questions. She'd never known of any of this before, any of it.

Why hadn't either of them said anything?

Once Momo closed the folder, she lifted it out of the box, then sucked in her breath. The bottom of the box appeared to be completely filled with photos, once again of Momiji.

So many pictures, and so many moments. Graduations. Trips. School events. Holiday events.

Pictures of Momiji smiling, or laughing. Of Momiji, happy and having a good time.

And in many of them, he was with Koshiro.

Emotional pictures, of the two of them at Momiji's high school graduation, and his middle school graduation. Pictures of Koshiro with Momiji at what looked to be Momiji's birthday, over the years. A picture of the two of them together in Koshiro's office at his building when Momiji was a young child, sitting and smiling in Koshiro's lap.

As she looked through the pictures, Momo could feel her eyes tearing up. All this time...for all those years...she had wanted to have a relationship with Momiji. She had begged to have a relationship with Momiji...and her father had said no. Hadn't even wanted her to see him, let alone know him, and why?

Why?

Why, when for all this time, for all these years, her father had been being...like a father to him?

Momo had to stop, too blinded by tears to see anything anymore. All she could do was sit there and cry, cry and try to make sense of everything she was seeing.

Koshiro had been basically a father to Momiji...had he thought she'd be jealous? Had he thought she wouldn't understand? That might have been a valid concern when she was little, but for years?

For her entire life?

Momo wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist, trying to figure it out. Koshiro had been paying for everything, and managing everything, and tracking everything...for almost Momiji's entire life. He'd been there, not just paid for things.

Why had neither of them ever said anything?

When Momo's tears had slowed enough that she could see again, she was right back to the photos with even more determination to make sense of what she was seeing. But as the photos got older, Momo found herself with even more questions.

Momiji hadn't said how old he'd been when he'd lost his parents, but she assumed he'd meant a young child, maybe three or four. Certainly no younger than two. But the Momiji in the photos kept getting younger and younger...and so did Koshiro.

Until Momo was staring in utter confusion at a picture of a much younger version of her father, cradling a tiny blond baby.

Suddenly, Momo found herself feeling sick. Her father had been there since Momiji was a baby...he'd been involved since Momiji was a baby. Momiji's entire life, her father had been there, watching over him, and taking care of him.

Taking care of him...like he was Momiji's own father.

Momo's hands were shaking, and she felt like she wanted to throw up. She had been thinking Koshiro was maybe Momiji's business manager, or even legal guardian, but there was so much that didn't still didn't make sense...unless Momiji was actually Koshiro's son.

Had her father...had an affair?

So much suddenly made sense, with almost blindly clarity. The reason Koshiro had always wanted to keep Momo and Momiji separate, the reason why he particularly tried to keep Momiji and Sabine separate. The reason he'd been so upset when he'd learned Momo had started calling Momiji her brother.

Because Momiji was her brother.

Her half-brother, anyway, Momo corrected herself after a moment, though it was abundantly clear that Koshiro had to have a type. Her entire life, Momo had felt that Momiji looked eerily similar to Sabine; he could easily have made anyone think he was her son.

Had his mother looked like Sabine's twin, too?

Momo's fists clenched into fists as she thought about her mother. Had Sabine known about this, any of it? Did she know about the affair? About Momiji? Had she forgiven Koshiro and taken him back...

Or had she never known, to begin with?

Momo covered her face with her hands as she broke down into sobs, trying to figure out another explanation, any explanation, that made sense. But that had been the last picture, and almost the last thing in the box. The only thing that made sense, the only explanation she kept circling back to, was that her father had had an affair and the woman had died in childbirth.

What other explanation could there be?

All her life, she'd thought they were all so happy. Herself, and her parents. If anything, she'd always thought Koshiro was totally devoted to Sabine; he loved to do little things to make her happy, and they were always smiling together.

But if Momiji was his son...then he'd cheated on her, in the very earliest days of their marriage, to boot.

How could she look her father in the eye ever again, knowing what she knew now?

Finally, Momo's tears ran dry, and she could at last breathe easier. There was one last thing in the box, a heavy, official-looking manila envelope. And as Momo took it out and turned it over, she was in for another surprise.

It was addressed to her parents. Both of them, not just her father, and it was from the main Sohma house itself. The front of the envelope was decorated with intricate designs representing the animals of the Chinese Zodiac, and next to her parents' names and address was a beautifully depicted rabbit.

Momo opened it up to find several pieces of paper inside. She grabbed one at random, and pulled out what proved to be...a birth certificate.

A German birth certificate.

Just like hers.

And as Momo looked at it, her eyes widened.

It was almost exactly like hers...with the exact same parents. Koshiro Sohma, Japanese national, and Sabine Sohma, German national. Except instead of her own name and date of birth...it had Momiji's.

Momo's head was spinning. So her father was actually Momiji's father? But then why...how...was Sabine also listed?

Did that mean that Sabine had actually known? Had she agreed to let her own name be listed on the birth certificate, so no one had to know about the affair? To give Momiji the advantage of dual citizenship?

Momo didn't know if her mother knowing made it better or worse. Because if her mother knew...that meant that her sweet, loving mother had knowingly cast a baby out into the world, alone. And no matter how much Koshiro had hurt her, Momiji himself had been innocent.

The next thing Momo pulled out of the envelope was a letter addressed to her parents, on thick, heavy paper and written in beautiful calligraphy. Once again her eyes widened, as she saw it was from the household of the Sohma family head.

'Koshiro and Sabine Sohma,

On behalf of Akito, head of the Sohma family, we send you our deepest congratulations and blessings on the birth of your son, Momiji. Over forty years have passed since the Sohmas were last blessed by the spirit of the Rabbit, and we rejoice that through you, the Rabbit is among us once more. We all rejoice in your good fortune, and please find enclosed a congratulatory sum in honor of the birth. Expect to be receiving Akito at your earliest convenience to offer his personal congratulations. '

The letter was stamped with the Sohma head's personal seal, and Momo's head was spinning as she lowered it.

Koshiro and Sabine Sohma? The birth of their son?

Their son?

Momo had no idea what the letter meant by the part about the Rabbit. Momiji had been born in the year of the Boar, not the Rabbit; she knew that, because he was seven years older than her and she was year of the Horse. Nor did she know what was meant about it having been over forty years, or why her parents had received such a formal letter of congratulations.

None of that really mattered to her, though, not right now. Not when the letter, paired with the German birth certificate, were starting to point to a possibility that was truly starting to scare her.

The next thing out of the envelope honestly surprised her, even though she recognized it immediately. It was a family registry, just like the one kept in a fireproof box in Momo's parents room.

Except it wasn't, Momo realized as she opened it. The one Momo had seen before had three names: her father, her mother, and herself.

This one...had four.

Momo stared hard at Momiji's entry in the registry, listed above her own. His name, his date of birth. Her parents' names.

...Their parents' names.

Momo didn't understand. As she looked from the birth certificate to the letter from the Sohma estate to the family registry listing, she felt once more like she was going to be sick, but in a way that possibly felt even worse than before. She wanted to argue with it; wanted to believe that it wasn't true, that none of it was true. That the pile of evidence in front of her meant nothing...that it was nothing.

Except she'd always wondered, way deep down. Wondered why she felt so connected to Momiji, who had always looked so very much like her mother.

So very much like their mother.

Their mother...listed on his birth certificate, that letter from the Sohma estate, and what Momo had a sneaking suspicion was their real family registry.

Their mother...who wasn't in so much as a single picture with Momiji, over the course of a lifetime.

Their mother...who never spoke of him, except in passing. Always as though he was someone else's child.

There was one last thing in the envelope, and Momo pulled it out with shaking hands. It was a letter, on Doctor Hatori Sohma's official letterhead.

'Koshiro,

After my follow-up with Sabine today, I am confident that the suppression has taken and she will soon start to make a full recovery. I know this is an extremely difficult time for you all, and I'm very sorry that there wasn't more I could do for any of you to avoid this.

As you know, it's extremely important for Sabine's continued progress that for at least the immediate future she be kept completely separate from Momiji. She shouldn't see him, hear any mention of him, or get any reminder of his existence at all while her replacement memories are still so fresh. I know you've prepared for this, but I just want to stress that it could be extremely detrimental to Sabine's health and progress if she's in any way reminded that she actually has a child. Later on, once she's more stable, she should be able to be around him or hear mention of him without any fear of a relapse.

I'll plan on seeing Sabine at least once more for another check in about one month's time. Her progress then will determine if I need to see her again going forward. As you know, since her memories of Momiji have been replaced with new ones, the suppression should be permanent. Once I'm confident in her progress there should be nothing to worry about if she happens to see Momiji or hear his name going forward.

On a personal note, Momiji's new residence is near to mine, and I give you my word that I'll help keep an eye on him. Whatever I can do to help make this new reality easier for him, I will.

Hatori Sohma'


For a long time Momo sat there in her father's desk chair, holding the letter from Hatori in her lap. She didn't understand everything she'd seen...but she understood enough to finally, finally have a picture of what might actually be the truth.

He was her brother. Not her brother in spirit, nor her brother by choice, though he was both of those things, too. Not her half-brother, the product of an affair. Her actual, genuine, brother. The son of their parents; not her parents, theirs.

The son who, somehow, for some reason, their mother had been forced to forget. Had needed to forgot, in exchange for her own health and wellbeing.

How had Sabine been able to accept that? Had she known? Had she had a choice?

How had Koshiro been able to accept that?

How had any of them been able to look at Momiji and say that any of that was the right choice, that any of that was fair?

And why had all of them kept from her? Even if Sabine didn't know, that didn't explain Koshiro...or Momiji himself.

Momo was crying again, thinking about all of it. All of those pictures she'd seen, all of those memories. Things Momiji had shared with just his father, when he should have had his entire family. When he should have had her.

She thought of that day, over seven years ago now, when her father had stunned her by finally agreeing to let her sit and talk with Momiji, then in his second year of high school and the same age she was now. Momiji had been so genuinely happy to see her, telling her of his conversation with Tohru about her, and how much he appreciated that she had helped his friend. That he was happy to be her friend, too, if she still wanted him to be.

And she had said yes...but no.

'I know it's silly, Momiji, and it's ok if you say no, really...but I always wanted a big brother. Always. And I've always imagined...it was you. So while I'll always want to be your friend, what I really want...is for you to be my brother.'

Momiji's smile had been so like Sabine's then; big, and bright, and blinding, crinkling his eyes as well as his cheeks. And he'd hugged her close, his voice choked up with emotion as he answered,

'There is nothing sweeter or more wonderful you could offer, Momo. Ja...I will be your brother. I will always be your brother, and that is a promise.'


Momo was silent as she carefully repacked the manila envelope, closed it, and placed it back in the box. Then she replaced the pictures, followed by the folders, the reports, letter and final picture. Then she closed the box, locked it, and put it back in the drawer before carefully replacing the keys.

She was just closing the top middle drawer when her phone rang, and she glanced at in in surprise. It was almost eleven; who on earth would be calling at this hour?

A glance at the call screen answered the question, and Momo's eyes widened in surprise. Then she swallowed, and hoped she sounded normal as she answered.

"Papa?"

"Hi, Momo," came her father's somewhat hurried voice. "I'm sorry for calling so late, but Mama just mentioned to me that we forgot to get you your passport for your trip tomorrow."

Was it her imagination, or did her father sound stressed?

"Yes, that's right," Momo said. "She told me to look for it in your desk-"

"Yes, that's what she told me," Koshiro said, and now Momo was totally sure he sounded stressed. "Have you done that, yet?"

Was he really that anxious himself, or was she just projecting her own anxiety on him?

Momo took a breath. "I just started looking, actually," she said, hating to lie but not feeling she had much of a choice. It was too much of a coincidence, her father calling her from a work dinner for the first time in her life the same night her mother had told her to go through her father's desk. "So far all I found is pens and notepads."

Koshiro laughed at that, and she could swear he sounded relieved. "Well, I'm sorry it wasn't more interesting for you, but as I've always said, my desk is not a place for you," he said, a hint of censure in his voice. "The passports aren't actually in my desk at all, Momo. They're in the fireproof box in the bottom left cabinet just when you walk into the room. You'll find the key hanging on the inside of the top right cabinet door."

Momo obediently followed the instructions, finding first the key, then the box, and finally her passport. As she held the little folio in her hand, Momo couldn't help but marvel; this had been so important, a mere couple hours ago, but now...

"I've got it, Papa!"

She could hear her father's relived exhale. "Good. Then you can lock the box and put it away, put away the key, and once you've done all that, I think you should go to bed, Momo. It's late, and you have to get up early tomorrow."

"I know," she said, and she could hear her father's smile. "Will you two be out much later?"

Koshiro sighed. "Yes, likely for at least another two hours. It's a late night, I'm sorry to say, but don't worry, we'll both still be up to see you off in the morning. We couldn't let out little girl go to Korea without saying goodbye!"

Momo could hear the affection in her father's voice, and it made her smile. But at the same time, that affection made her heart hurt in a way she'd never before thought possible.

Who had been there, to say goodbye to Momiji when he'd gone on trips?

But after swallowing hard, Momo was able to respond. "Well, I'm going to go to bed, Papa, and I'll see the two of you in the morning. Have fun at your dinner!"

"Sleep well, Momo."


A little while later, Momo lay in her bed, staring up through the darkness at the ceiling. She knew she should sleep; she needed to be awake before five to get to school in time, and she was already going to be running on less sleep than she was used to.

But she couldn't sleep, not now. Not after everything she'd seen, and read, and learned. Not with everything so fresh and prominent in her mind.

She wanted to cry, and to scream. To march up to her father and ask him to tell her why. To march up to Dr. Hatori and ask him to tell her why.

To have even the tiniest bit of understanding of why everything had had to happen the way it had.

But she couldn't, she knew. Couldn't, or at the very least, wouldn't. She couldn't trust either of them to tell her the truth.

There was only one person she could, and she didn't know if he'd be willing to tell her.

But she'd never know, until she tried.

Momo reached over and grabbed her phone, wincing as she looked at the time, then mentally subtracting seven hours before sharply nodding her head. There was no way she could sleep right now, anyway...so she might as well try.

Her call was answered on the second ring. "Is everything alright, Momo?"

Momiji's voice was sharp and full of concern, but it gave her the same feeling of comfort it always had to hear him. She felt a brief pang of guilt; of course he'd be worried, with her calling out of the blue in what he knew to be the middle of the night in Japan, and she was quick to reassure him.

"Yes, of course, everything's fine, Momiji. I just...wanted to talk to you."

"In the middle of the night?" he asked, sounding perplexed. "You know I always love to talk, but don't you have school tomorrow?"

"We actually leave for our class trip tomorrow," she admitted, feeling a little sheepish, and she could hear a gently disproving noise from Momiji.

"You really ought to try to sleep, Momo. Surely we can talk again another time, ja?" That time, his voice was filled with warmth and affection, and Momo wanted to soak it into her very bones.

She didn't want to listen to him. She wanted to tell him what she'd found, right then and there. Ask him what he knew, if he had anything more to add...if he had supported keeping it all from her.

To ask him why.

But he was right. No matter how much she wished things were different...tonight probably wasn't the time.

"I guess you're right," she said, her tone one of complete dejection. And on the other end of the phone, she could almost hear Momiji smile.

"Tell you what, Momo. When do you get home from your trip?"

"Saturday evening," Momo said promptly.

"Alright then. Why don't you call me as soon as you're home and situated, and then you can tell me all about your trip and whatever else you feel like, ja?"

And as much as Momo wanted to talk right then, she couldn't help but smile at his cheerful proposition.

"Ok," she said after a moment. "Let's do that. I do really want to talk to you," she said with sincerity, and once again she could feel Momiji's smile.

"Well, I look forward to it, Momo. You know how much I always love to talk to my little sister."


Author's note: this story started as a chapter from "Precious Little Moments in Time" based on a prompt I was given on AO3: "Momo - be my brother." This chapter was the result of that prompt, but the concept kind of wedged in my brain and grew from there, and I wanted to see it through to the end. This first chapter is the same as chapter 76 from Precious Little Moments in Time, but the rest will be new material.