Momo was a nervous wreck that evening by the time her parents walked through the door. She had felt wonderful when she first hung up with Momiji, but as the hours had passed by she'd started to feel far more anxious.
Maybe it was a mistake, asking Momiji to talk to their father. Maybe it would have been better to just rip the bandage off herself, to face him for the first time herself. She probably had the best chance of getting an honest reaction from him that way, of seeing his true feelings and not a carefully curated mask.
But then she'd have to face him, and ask him why. Ask him, and trust that he would actually be honest with her, that he'd actually give her an answer she could accept. And after everything he'd done...she didn't know if she could do that.
So many times, as she ate her takeout food and tried to watch tv and paced around her room, she debated texting Momiji and telling him not to worry, that she'd handle talking to their father herself. She'd pull out her phone, look at it, then put it away, only to pull it out again, pull out her contacts...and hesitate.
She wanted to know the truth, so badly. She wanted to hear it from Momiji...and from Papa, too.
Back into her pocket. Out again. Then again, once more.
Why was it so hard, knowing what to do?
Finally, Momo took a deep breath and sent a message.
'Momiji, I'm so sorry for changing my mind...but I think I need to tell Papa, myself. At the very least, I need to tell him what I saw in his desk. I still want to talk to you afterwards, though, if that's alright?'
It was only a minute before she had her response.
'If that is what you want, then of course it's alright, Momo, but I already messaged and he's agreed to talk as soon as he gets home. He says it'll be about twenty minutes, by the way.'
Momo's eyes rounded, and she was still staring at her phone when a second message came in.
'Do you want me to tell him never mind? To talk to you first?'
Momo thought frantically. It would be a terrible idea for Momiji to tell their father to talk to her; that would only make him suspicious. She didn't necessarily want him to tell him never mind, because it might still be good for them to talk, and she didn't want Koshiro to think Momiji was crying wolf...
'Don't say anything to him. I'll wait by the front door, and just...try to talk to him right away. I don't want him to know I talked to you before I have the chance to talk to him.'
'Tell you what; I'll tell him I have to take another call and won't be available until a little bit later. Then you can hopefully talk without him having any immediate suspicions.'
'That sounds great! Thank you!'
'Call me as soon as you're done talking.'
'I will.'
As she put away her phone, Momo took another deep breath. She felt as though she was going to be sick; it had been infinitely easier to psych herself up to talk to Momiji. With Momiji, at least, she'd thought he'd be happy.
Momo was waiting when her parents walked in. "Welcome home!"
"Hallo, Momo," Sabine said, giving her a hug. "Did you find yourself something nice for dinner?"
"I did," Momo said, looking past Sabine to Koshiro. Her father had a set expression on his face and his brow was furrowed slightly; Momo could tell immediately that he had something on his mind, and she had a very good guess what it was.
"Are you ready to sit und look at your pictures with us, meine Liebling?" Sabine asked, hanging up her shawl. "I'll need to change first, but I'll try not to be too long!"
"That's fine, Mama," Momo said quickly. "I know we had talked about looking at pictures now, but I had forgotten there was actually something I was hoping to talk to Papa about. Privately, if that's ok," she said, looking at her father.
"Privately?" asked Sabine in surprise at the same time Koshiro, frowning, said
"It's not the best time, Momo."
Sabine and Momo both looked at Koshiro.
"Why not?" Sabine asked, frowning at him, and Koshiro gave her an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry, Sabine, but I'm actually expecting an important business call at some point very soon. So now isn't really a good time, Momo," he repeated, looking back at her.
Momo silently gave thanks for Momiji's excuse.
"Please, Papa? If your call comes while we're talking, I'll just leave, but...I'd really like to talk to you now, if possible," Momo said, hoping she looked and sounded natural.
Koshiro checked the time, then sighed. "Alright, but it could literally be any time, Momo, and I'll need to take it."
"I understand," she said, and Koshiro nodded, then looked at Sabine.
"I'm sorry, Mausi. Maybe you could take a nice bubble bath for now, or curl up with a book?"
Sabine smiled, though her eyes were curious as she glanced at Momo. "I will find something to do, I am sure of it. I will see you both when you're done!"
Then Koshiro gestured to Momo. "Lets go talk in my office, Momo."
Of course...his office.
Swallowing hard, Momo nodded, then followed him up to the second floor.
"Now, Momo, what is it?" Koshiro asked, once they were both sitting in his office. "I hope you didn't run into any troubles on your trip."
"No, Papa, it's nothing to do with the trip...exactly," Momo said, folding her hands in her lap.
"Exactly?" Koshiro inquired, looking at her with a frown. "Then why don't you tell me what it is about, quickly," he added with a glance at his phone.
As she sat there, Momo couldn't help but stare at her father; at his lightly frowning but otherwise totally sedate face. The face she'd seen so often, calm and reserved.
He'd always been so good at being composed.
How reserved had he been, when he knew Sabine would have to forget their son? How reserved had he been during the events that had led up to it? When he'd decided to keep Momo and Momiji apart? When he'd decided to pretend, for Momo's entire life?
'No, Momo. You must leave Momiji alone.'
'No, you aren't to bother him.'
"He's very busy, I'm sure, so stay away from him. He doesn't need a little girl interrupting his studies.'
'You can see him, but don't take too much time.'
'Try not to get too attached, Momo; he'll be leaving for university soon, and I doubt he'll have time for you.'
So many words...so many carefully planted little wedges. All of them planted with that same cool expression...
He was waiting for her.
She shouldn't keep him waiting.
"I have something to confess to you, Papa," Momo said, her voice quiet. "The night before I left for my trip, when you called me, you asked if I'd looked in your desk. I told you I had just started...but I had actually just finished."
The words hung heavily between them, and Koshiro stared at her for a long moment before bringing his hands up in front of his face and clasping them in front of his mouth.
Just like Momiji had done, earlier that day.
The same slim, elegant hands, held the exact same way...another similarity she'd never actually noticed.
"I see," he said, his voice controlled, but definitely wary. "And the reason you lied?"
The word stung, even if it was the truth.
"Because I didn't know how to ask you about what I saw," she said, trying her hardest to keep her own voice level, too.
Koshiro took a deep breath. "What did you see, Momo?" he asked, and Momo swallowed.
"There was a fireproof box, like the one you keep the passports in, and the important papers," Momo said, the words getting harder and harder and harder in the face of her father's inscrutable stare.
Why had she thought this was a good idea, her doing this instead of Momiji?
He was waiting for her to continue, waiting for her to keep on at the same steady, level pace. To keep breaking it down, to keep dragging it out...to keep giving him time to process.
Momo's hands clenched in her lap as she burst out, "All this time, my whole life, you always said he was just another Sohma! You said he didn't matter, that he was just...someone else! Even when I was asking about him, even when I was begging to meet him, you told me no! You always had a reason, but all this time, he's been my brother, Papa! He's my brother, and he's been my brother, all this time!"
Her composure was out the window as for the second time that day, Momo felt herself breaking down in tears. "Why, Papa? Why did you keep it from me, all this time? I understand when I was a child, but I'm not a child, Papa, and I haven't been for years!"
Koshiro's knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping his hands. "You don't understand, Momo, it's infinitely more complicated than that. Everything I did, I did for a reason. For a good reason."
"Because of Mama?" she demanded, and Koshiro flinched, looking towards the door. Then he abruptly stood up, grabbing his phone.
"We're done here, Momo. And you are not to mention a word of this to Mama, am I completely clear? Not a word."
"No, we're not done, Papa!" Momo said, standing as well. "If it's so complicated than explain!"
"There's nothing more to explain," Koshiro said tersely. "Everything happened for a reason. Momiji understands that."
"But I don't," she said. "It's my life, too, Papa!"
"I already told you, Momo, this doesn't concern you!" he said, looking once more at the door. "What I did, I did to keep everyone safe."
"How? How were you keeping me safe?" she demanded. "Safe from what?"
"We. Are. Done." Koshiro's voice was fiercer than she could ever recall hearing it. "And I repeat, you cannot mention a word of what you found to Mama. Not a word."
"Why? What will happen if I do? Will it make her remember?"
"This isn't a game, Momo! This isn't something for you to toy with, this is potentially your mama's life!"
Koshiro's voice was distraught, filled with a mixture of anger and fear so potent it almost sent Momo recoiling.
Almost.
"Why? How? I promise, Papa, I won't do anything to hurt her, I never would! I won't breathe a word, she never has to know any of it! I just want to understand, to know what happened and why you've kept it from me! Why you've kept him from me!"
Both of them were glaring at each other across the desk, their expressions both fierce.
"I already told, you Momo, you have to just trust me on this!"
"Why?" The word tore out of her as she looked at the father she'd always loved, who now stood before her, shutting her out. "I'm old enough to know!"
"It's not about your age, and it's not about you! It's-" Koshiro broke off, staring at her intently, then broke into a dark, angry scowl. "You've already spoken to Momiji about this?"
It was a question, but also a statement.
Momo lifted her chin. "I have."
Koshiro closed his eyes, and clenched his hand around his phone. Then he asked, his voice very careful and deliberate, "What did he tell you?"
The same strategy as Momiji...probing to see how much she knew.
She wished she could throw something in his face, but she couldn't.
"Nothing," she said, her voice unexpectedly sulky. "He confirmed what I'd seen. He admitted he's my brother, though obviously I already knew that. But he wouldn't tell me anything else. He wouldn't say...why...Mama's memory had to be erased. Why you kept him from me," she said, her voice getting harder. "He said you had to agree."
"He was right," Koshiro said, glaring at her. "Because this isn't just about you, Momo, not about you, or Momiji, either."
"I know it's about Mama!" Momo said, and Koshiro looked once more at the door.
"Then you know enough," he said sharply, walking over to the door and taking the knob. "We are done."
Momo stood for a moment, staring at her father, then marched across the office. "I'm not letting this go, Papa," she said, and Koshiro's expression tightened.
"It's already gone farther than it should."
Then the door was open and Momo stepped out into the hallway, jumping slightly as the door closed sharply behind her.
That...could have gone better.
For a moment Momo stood there, tears burning in her eyes and her hands clenched into fists. Then, after a moment, she let out a breath and pulled out her phone.
'We're done talking, and he knows what I saw. He's not happy, and he won't tell me anything more. He also knows you and I talked.'
The response came quickly.
'I see. I will still try to talk to him.'
'Good luck, and thank you, Momiji.'
And as she put her phone away, Momo could feel herself starting to cry.
It wasn't supposed to go this way.
Momiji took a deep breath as he stared at Momo's message. She had talked to their father...he knew they'd talked...and he wasn't happy.
Momiji wished he could be surprised.
For so long, Koshiro had controlled the narrative. He had controlled what literally everyone knew; everyone from Momo and Momiji's grandparents to his coworkers at the company, other Sohmas at the estate and Momo herself. Momiji had always known he did it out of a fierce love for Mama; he had always just wanted to keep her safe, and keep her happy.
At any cost.
Momiji knew romantic love himself, now. He knew what it was to love someone, and to be loved by them in return. And even so, he couldn't imagine himself doing what his father had done. Parts of it, maybe; he knew his father had been faced with an impossible choice, that Sabine, after Momiji was born Cursed, was...broken. If Momiji saw Hans the same way, he knew he would have moved mountains to try and make him better.
But he knew in his heart that eventually, he would have to trust that that cure had worked. Momiji didn't know everything about memory suppression, but he knew enough. He knew that Hatori...had been very thorough.
There had been no reason and no need for any of it, especially after Curse broke. Not the distance, not the separation. Not the secrecy, and the compounding lies by omission. All that had been standing in the way of Momo and Momiji's relationship for years was Koshiro and his fear.
He wasn't looking forward to this...but it had to be done.
"Hallo, Papa."
"Hello, Momiji."
His father's voice was tight and angry; Momo hadn't been kidding when she said he was upset.
"I assume you've heard from Momo?"
Not even a question, and there was no point in denying it.
"Ja, I have."
Silence for a minute, then Koshiro's voice came, still tight, but very level. Momiji could hear him shifting into 'business mode,' preparing to assess the damage.
"I need you to tell me exactly what she saw, Momiji, as much as you know."
Momiji could hear the sound of a drawer on Koshiro's desk opening, and he could guess his father was going for the box.
"She said she saw pictures, and papers; records from my schools, medical reports, transaction records. She said she found my German birth certificate, and our family registry. A letter from Akito about my birth," he said, provoking a sharp intake of breath from Koshiro, "and a letter from Hatori talking about Mama. She knows that Mama had to forget me."
"Yes, I gathered that," Koshiro said, his voice once more tense, and Momiji could hear the sound of rapidly rustling papers. "Did she say anything else?"
"She knows I'm your son, that we're brother and sister. She knows we were intentionally kept apart."
Momiji did his best to keep his tone level, to avoid any hint of accusation.
His father wasn't the only one who could wear a façade, when necessary.
Koshiro didn't respond to that, though, he was still rapidly going through papers. "What all did she ask you?"
"She wants to know why. Why we were kept apart, why you didn't agree for us to know each other, why you haven't told her any of this before," Momiji continued steadily. "Obviously she wants to know what happened with Mama; why she had to forget, how it was done, how it's still relevant after all this time."
The papers had stopped rustling.
"Did she ask you anything about the Curse? Even tangentially?"
There it was again, that undercurrent of fear.
"Nein," Momiji said, his voice quiet, then he frowned. "Should she have, Papa?"
Koshiro exhaled. "One of the things she saw, that letter from the head of the family, was the congratulatory letter we received in honor of your...role...in the Zodiac. Nothing specific, but it did acknowledge you had brought the Rabbit spirit."
Momiji swallowed. "Momo mentioned that letter, but only in that it confirmed I was your and Mama's son."
He could hear the relief in his father's sigh. "Well, that's good to hear, at least."
They were both silent for a moment, then Koshiro's voice came once again, firm and authoritative.
"This goes no further, Momiji, am I clear?"
Momiji frowned. "What do you mean, Papa?"
"I mean that's it. You are not to tell anyone else about this, and you are not to tell Momo anything more than she already knows. She already knows far more than she has any reason to, her learning any additional specifics would only confuse and upset her, or even frighten her."
Momiji's frown deepened. "I don't think-"
"No, Momiji," Koshiro interrupted, his voice firm. "We're not going to argue on this, we're not going to discuss this, we are not going to do anything about this. I can't do anything to take this knowledge away from Momo, even if I wanted to-"
"What?" Momiji asked, his tone mildly horrified, but Koshiro continued as though he hadn't heard him.
"-but there is nothing good that could come out of her knowing anything else. She's still young, she still lives at home; do you have any idea what it could do to her, or her relationship with Mama if she found out the truth?"
Momiji was still hung up on the 'taking the knowledge away.'
"Papa, you wouldn't try to have Momo's memory erased, would you?"
There was a long silence, and Momiji's hands tightened. He was sure that wasn't an option any more...
"As I say, there's nothing I can do."
Momiji's mind was racing. Several minutes had passed between when Momo had texted him and Momiji had called; he'd wanted to give their father a little time to calm down, and to figure out his own plan.
"Papa, did you contact Hatori?"
"It's none of your business, Momiji," Koshiro said, his voice terse, and Momiji practically exploded.
"It is my business when you are talking about my life, Papa, and about my relationship with my sister!"
"You mean my daughter, Momiji, my minor daughter, who has to be around her mother literally every day? When you were talking to her, did you ever once stop to think what this knowledge has to be doing to her, and what that in turn could do to Mama? Do you think Mama won't notice if Momo starts to act differently around her?"
"She might, ja," Momiji said, trying to rein himself in. "So talk to Momo, and get ahead of the narrative."
That was one of Koshiro's gifts, after all: controlling the narrative.
"I have, and I will," Koshiro said through what Momiji could only imagine were gritted teeth. "But it's going to be hard enough already with what Momo knows. Imagine how much worse it would be if she knew the entire story!"
"Why?" Momiji asked forcefully. "Don't you think it would be better, for her to understand how little choice there was? For her to understand why your fear was, and is, still so pronounced?"
"She doesn't need to know my thought processes, Momiji, she needs to trust me."
"But she doesn't! She doesn't trust you, Papa, and I don't know how long it will take for that to change! All her life, we've been lying to her!"
"It's always been for her own good, hers, and Mama's," Koshiro said tersely, "And you know that, Momiji. You know why I acted the way I did."
"I know why you thought you had to act the way you did, ja," Momiji said, fighting to stay calm. "I know you've always acted out of love for Mama, even to the point of excess!"
There was a long silence. "You were a child, Momiji. You didn't know how bad things were, you didn't know how close to the edge she was. There was never any choice!"
"I'm not arguing with you, Papa," Momiji said, his eyes pricking with tears. "I can't argue with you; as you say, I was a child, then. But I haven't been, for years," he continued, his voice becoming more forceful. "And Mama has never backslid, not even once. Unless there has been something you didn't tell me?"
His turn to accuse.
"No, she hasn't, and I intend to keep it that way."
"That's twenty-two years, Papa! Twenty-two years, without a single lapse. She has seen me, talked to me, been around me. She is safe, you don't have to worry about her!"
"You don't know that, Momiji!"
"I do! I trust in Hatori," Momiji said, thinking of the man who had always done what he could for Momiji. The man who had been so kind...
Who had carried such an immense load of guilt in response.
"You can trust him all you want, but it's still not a science, Momiji. Failure has always been an option."
"And I understand you think that, Papa," Momiji said emotionally. "But that's Mama, not Momo. Momo can be trusted to know and to not tell Mama, I'm sure of it. If anything, it might be easier for her to keep it to herself, knowing and understanding the entire truth."
"And I already told you my decision. Momo is too young, and the entire situation is too complicated. There's no guarantee she can handle the truth, and I refuse to put her or Mama through it."
"There's no guarantee she can't, either, Papa! If anything, I'm confident that she can!" Momiji's voice was once again rough, emotion pouring out in every word. "She's always known, Papa, always. Wasn't that why you were so worried, back when she first started asking about me? You were worried she'd made connections? Well she did, all on her own, and it didn't change anything with Mama then, did it?"
"Momiji-"
"She told me, all those years ago, that she always imagined I was her brother. She wanted me to be her brother. And when we were talking today, that's what she was most fixated on, Papa. That I am her brother, and she was never allowed to know! Let me tell her why, let me help her understand, and I'm sure she will be ok with it, Papa, all of it. Your role, Mama, me, everything, just please let me tell her!"
"I said NO!" Koshiro's anger was so intense that Momiji could practically feel it through the phone.
"You're right, she was good at making connections. That's why I didn't want you two to meet, why you were never supposed to be around her! Do you think any of it was easy for me, Momiji? Do you think I wanted things to be this way?" The anger was mixed with sorrow, and deeply bitter regret. "I did the best I could, and I don't regret any of my choices. My only regret is not putting my foot down with Momo sooner," he said, the words cutting Momiji like a knife.
"If I'd had my way, you two would have met as adults. It always would have been better that way, and easier for everyone involved. You two were the ones who always had to make this harder than it had to be, and while I'm sorry, it's the truth. I've only ever had all of our best interests at heart, Momiji," Koshiro continued, his voice level once more.
And Momiji was sure his father believed that. He was probably even right; he had had the family's best interests at heart...but the scales had definitely not been balanced in how those best interests were weighed.
"Be that as it may, things didn't work out that way, Papa," Momiji said, his tone matching his father's. "Just like so many other things in life, plans changed. And given what she has found out, I think she should know the rest, at the very least about Mama. She doesn't even have to know about the Curse yet if you're absolutely unwilling, but she can know about the depression!"
"So your alternative is to just have her think Mama is a monster?"
"Nein, my alternative is for her to know the truth, as much of is as you're willing to tell her! She's seventeen, Papa, slightly older than I was when the Curse broke! She can handle it, you can trust her!"
"Momiji." Koshiro's voice was quiet, but there was a dangerous edge that made Momiji stop talking at once. "I've already given you my decision. And you are not to go against me on this, am I clear?"
Momiji's hand tightened once more around the phone. "Are you threatening me, Papa?"
"I am reminding you that I am the head of this family, Momiji. And as the head of this family, it is my right to make decisions about my children, just like it's my right to make decisions about my home, and my business. And I repeat, you are not to tell Momo anything else. What she already knows is already too much."
Once again, silence stretched out between them, and finally Koshiro said,
"I think we're done here."
"Ja," Momiji said quietly. "I think we are."
