Hans sat silently and listened as Momiji poured out everything that happened that amazingly extraordinary day. About Momo's call, and her revelations. About her questions, and Momiji's response. What he knew about Momo's conversation with Koshiro, and everything to do with Momiji's own.
The aftermath.
"I am truly sorry, Schatzi," Momiji said, looking from Hans to the wall with the broken pictures. "I have no idea what came over me; I was just looking at the pictures, and thinking everything over, and then..." he glanced ruefully at his hand, then sighed. "I had no idea I even knew how to punch, I feel like I should be impressed."
"Don't be," Hans said shortly, also looking at Momiji's hand. Momiji had already told him it was broken, and pretty cut up to boot; it turned out that punching a concrete wall through glass was a bad idea, though neither of them could admit they were surprised. "But all things considered...I can't say I'm surprised, to hear you were so overwhelmed."
Hans was clearly a little overwhelmed himself, though Momiji could only tell because he knew his boyfriend so well. Unlike Momiji, who tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve, Hans had always been more visibly reserved.
But Momiji knew that Hans was thinking hard and trying to take in everything, to figure out where to go with that information first. And he wasn't the least bit surprised by Hans' immediate solution.
"I'm going to make us some sandwiches," he said, standing up, and Momiji started to follow. "Nein, you sit. You should rest, after all of that."
"It's just a broken hand," Momiji said, and Hans shook his head as he headed back to the kitchen.
"Ja, and what do you use to make food? Hands. And it's not just the hand, Häschen," he censured, looking back over his shoulder. "You've had a very tough day."
Momiji couldn't argue with that, and he sighed as he leaned back on the couch, taking another drink of his sparkling water and watching as Hans got to work assembling their sandwiches. And as he did, he smiled.
In spite of the stereotype of Germans as stoic and serious, affectionate, often animal-related nicknames and terms of endearment were a common part of the culture. Momiji could remember, from when he was a very little boy, his father calling his mother 'Mausi' a cute form of 'mouse,' and though he had never heard her use it, he could remember, once, hearing his father plead with his mother during the dark times to remember her 'Bärchen,' or cute bear, referring Koshiro himself. Momiji had started affectionately referring to Hans as "Schatzi,' or little treasure, not too long after they became official. And Hans...
The first time he'd called Momiji 'Häschen,' Momiji had been so startled he'd almost jumped out of his skin. Hans had immediately been apologetic; though a common endearment, it was admittedly more often used for women than men.
'I am so sorry, Momiji, I didn't mean to offend, it's just...you are always so sweet and energetic and bouncy, it just...seemed natural.'
Häschen. A cute, diminutive form of 'rabbit'.
Hans didn't know how appropriate it was, then. He had no idea there had once been a time when it would have been literal. And for all that Momiji had never hated his Curse for its own sake and never felt a need to distance himself from rabbits afterwards, it was still unexpected.
But after the surprise wore off he had smiled, and shaken his head, and told Hans it was fine. He had been surprised, yes...but he loved it.
And he loved it even more, after Hans learned the truth about the Curse and his past. Hans had been anxious and upset then, worried he was perpetually reminding Momiji about something he'd rather forget. Worried he was somehow being insensitive, and that he always had been without even realizing it.
'Nein, Hans. Now, more than ever...you know who I am, and what I was. And you still love me, and embrace me, knowing everything there is to know. I am not afraid of my past...and I will always be your Häschen.'
Momiji knew he shouldn't be surprised that so much of his father's fear and anxiety went back to the Curse. It had been the Curse that started everything, after all; the moment he had been put into his mother's arms for the very first time and turned into a Rabbit had been the beginning of the end.
But as much as he understood where his father was coming from, he didn't, and couldn't, understand why Koshiro was so determined to keep Momo from understanding. Koshiro had said that learning more would confuse and upset her, possibly even frighten her; Momiji could agree, especially on the first two points. He doubted it was possible to learn the truth and not be confused, regardless of how old, prepared, or mature. And naturally she would be upset; who wouldn't be upset, learning someone they loved had been cursed?
As for frightened...it was possible, he knew. It was possible that she would learn...and she would be scared of him. That she would look at him, and see the monster that so many people had once seen when they looked at any of the Zodiac.
But he doubted it. She was his Momo, his sister; she had known him, however minimally, when he was still possessed. Yes, she would be confused, yes, she would be upset, but she wouldn't stay that way. She would process, she would ask questions, and she would move on. Whatever Koshiro feared, whatever reason he had to think that confusion and fear would be the end of it, he was wrong.
Just like he was wrong to assume that things would have to change between Momo and Mama.
If anything, Momiji found Koshiro's determination to keep Momo in the dark far worse. He knew his sister; he knew she wasn't just going to roll over and accept her ignorance, not when she knew it was forced. He had seen it in her face, heard it in her voice; she had spent her entire life believing something she now knew to be a lie, and she knew there was more to be learned. Did Koshiro really think she would leave it there, that things would go back to the way they had been, just because he wanted them to?
No...Momiji thought, his good hand clenching into a fist. His father didn't think that, or he never would have reached out to Hatori.
"Here, eat. I know you haven't had supper, and I doubt you ate a proper lunch, either."
Hans returned to the couch, setting a plate of sandwiches on the coffee table, along with a jar of pickles. And as he grabbed a sandwich, Momiji gave him an affectionate look.
"You are a good mama, Hans."
"If I am a good mama, you should be a better child," Hans chided. "Even children know how to properly feed themselves, after a certain age."
"Children know a lot of things adults don't," Momiji said, lifting his glass.
Like how to blindly and adoringly trust that their parents will always know best.
Momiji had to admit he felt better after he'd eaten. "Thank you for that, Schatzi, I feel a lot better, now."
"Well, good," Hans said, refilling Momiji's water before sitting back down himself. "So, in that case," he began, looking at Momiji as he took his hand, "what do you want now, from me?"
He was so endearingly earnest that he made Momiji smile, and he continued to smile as Hans went on.
"I know that this is all very...complicated, Häschen. I know it's your life, and your family, and your...world," Hans said after a moment, "And if you want to figure out what to do yourself, if you want me to sit and listen and let you do that, I will. Or if you want my opinions, you can have those, too. Whatever you want, whatever you need from me, you will have it."
Momiji had always loved that about Hans, his sweet straightforwardness. There had never been any gameplaying or coyness with Hans; he was always one to say what he meant. If he couldn't say what he meant, then usually he just...didn't talk.
Momiji sighed, then took Hans' hand in his good one. "I would love to hear your opinions. Right now, there is so much bouncing around in my head and my heart...I don't even know where to begin," he admitted, staring down at his broken hand. "I feel so many things, so very many things," he said softly, and Hans nodded.
"Well then...Momo knowing," Hans said, a smile creeping onto his face, "That, for sure, is a good thing, ja?"
Momiji's return grin was dazzling, though his tone was laughingly reproachful as he responded, "Ja! I hate that she has been put in such an awkward situation, with Papa," he admitted, "But for her to know now, to know so much of the truth...it is so very, very wonderful, Hans," he said, his eyes shining. "I wish you could have seen the way she looked at me, when we ended the call. She was nervous, yes, but also so radiantly happy; to know that she felt that sort of happiness because of me, to know that she felt the same way I did..."
He smiled, remembering. Momo had been so obvious and endearing in her affection; as painful as it was to know how long he had missed it, he had it now, and he knew he always would.
"She has always wanted this, Hans," Momiji continued softly. "I had always hoped, you know, but it was hard not to worry that I was just imagining things. That I wanted us to be close so badly that I was projecting my own desires onto Momo, and that the truth was that her feelings for me were more...cordial. That she didn't actually want us to have a relationship, not the same sort of close one that I had imagined. But she did. She does. And now..." he let out a happy little sigh. "Now we can finally have it."
For a little while he sat there, beaming as he contemplated the truly wonderful part of the day. The part where he and Momo could talk, and cry, and just...be happy together.
Be brother and sister, together.
He wished that had been everything, that the day could have stopped there. But things had never been so easy, not in his family.
"She wants to know everything, and I can't say I blame her. What happened with Mama, and with me...there's no good way to explain it, or justify it, without knowing at least a little part of the truth," Momiji said, once more staring at his cast. "But Papa...he is still afraid. After all this time, he is still afraid that something will happen, and Mama will be triggered, and that everything that happened will happen again."
Momiji was silent again, then all at once he burst out, his voice loud and angry, "And it is so very, very stupid, and so very, very unfair! Ja, he is the one who was there to see it all when it happened. Ja, he is the one who had to live through it, and remember it all. Ja, he has always tried his hardest to make up for it. Ja, he has his reasons, but those reasons are no longer right!"
Momiji bounced to his feet and began pacing around the room. "He is afraid that if Momo knows, it will change the way she views Mama, and likely the way she views him. He can't believe Momo will say something to her, not at her age and with how mature she is, I'm sure of that," though Momiji had to admit it was possible he was wrong, as Koshiro definitely had a few blind spots where his children were concerned.
"But he is afraid it will change her behavior, and that Mama will suspect...something. I don't know if he's afraid Mama will figure it out, or she will push, or Momo will be too upset from the truth that she'll blurt something out...I don't know," Momiji repeated. "But I do know that Papa doesn't want so much as a whisper or a hint of the Curse to come to Mama's attention, that he worries if she were to hear..."
He clenched his hand once more. "It's not reasonable! For Momo, for me...he has managed everything so neatly for so long that he forgets it doesn't have to be this way anymore! That the choices he made when I was a child simply aren't right anymore!"
Hans was watching sympathetically as Momiji began pacing even more angrily.
"I know Papa had his reasons, and I always accepted them. Always. I accepted Mama forgetting me. I accepted being on my own. I accepted taking Papa's time whenever he could fit me in, because I knew he loved me, and I knew he was doing his best. I accepted him keeping Momo away from me, for years," he said, choking back an angry sob. "Everything he decided, I accepted! Even when it hurt me, however big," he said, thinking of that horrible day in the hospital when his father had clung to him and asked if he was willing to help Mama get better, "or small," as he thought about Koshiro telling him he needed to avoid the executive floor at his building.
'You can still come to the building and see your friend, Momiji, but I need you to stay away from my office unless I give express permission. You know you're not supposed to let them see you, and it would just...be easier to avoid any future accidents this way.'
"I have always accepted everything he told me," Momiji continued, his voice bitter and hard. "I respected his decisions, knew he always meant them for the best. I knew that he did what he had to do, to make the best possible life for us all. Everything, always, for my entire life, I have listened to him, and I have respected him. Even as a grown man, I have listened, and I have accepted."
Momiji stopped pacing, his eyes narrowing as he thought once more of his father's words from earlier that day, delivered in those cold or angry tones:
'No, Momiji. We're not going to argue on this, we're not going to discuss this, we are not going to do anything about this.'
'You are not to tell anyone else about this, and you are not to tell Momo anything more than she already knows.'
'It's always been for her own good'
'You know why I acted the way I did.'
'I've only ever had all of our best interests at heart'
'You are not to go against me on this, am I clear?'
'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.'
Hans rose to his feet, frowning, as Momiji turned and walked over to the wall of photos, coming to a stop before the bloody smear on the wall where the picture of his family had hung. And Hans came up beside him, resting his hand on Momiji's shoulder as Momiji began to talk once more, his voice once more quiet, but profoundly bitter.
"All my life...I have accepted. I have listened, and I accepted. Even this very morning, when I talked to Momo, I told her I couldn't say anything without Papa's approval. And I meant it, then," he said, staring at the wall. "I meant it, because that has always been the way. Papa is the head of the family, he is the one who makes those decisions. I can't go against Papa, I could never go against Papa. He has always known what he is doing, has always made the hard choices necessary...to take care of us all," he said, the bitterness in his voice echoed now in his smile.
To take care of them, the way he always had.
Providing Momiji with a house...that wasn't a home.
Supplying him with everything he wanted or needed...as long as it could be bought.
Giving Momiji his time...except when Momiji most needed or wanted him.
Giving Momiji his love...where no one else could know about it.
'Papa will love you enough for both of us, Momiji.'
Momiji would be the first to admit that his father had tried. He had done what he had to to keep them happy, to keep them safe. To show them all that he loved them. To show Momiji that he loved him. To convince him that they would make this work, and they would all...be happy.
But it hadn't been enough. It could never have been enough. No matter how guilty Momiji felt to think that, it was the truth, and always had been.
'Mama and I are expecting a baby, Momiji. You are going to be a big brother!'
'Here is a picture of your new baby sister! Her name is Momo.'
'I'm sorry, Momiji, I know you'd like to meet her, but right now...it's not possible. Maybe when she's older.'
'Momiji, I need you to make sure you're avoiding Momo and Mama when they come to the building, do you understand? I don't mind you stopping by, but you need to make sure they don't see you.'
'No, I'm afraid you can't see her, Momiji. She's at a very curious age, and it wouldn't be a good idea.'
'I told you not to let them see you, Momiji! Now Momo knows your name, and she's been asking about you...so far, there haven't been any problems, but I need you to be more careful.'
'She's been asking about you, you see...but don't worry. I'll find you a new teacher.'
'I'm sorry, but no. The timing isn't right. She's still too young,'
'I'm sorry, but you can't. Not yet.'
'That's not an option, Momiji.'
'No, not yet.'
There had been times when Momiji had wondered if it would have been better to never even know Momo existed. He had loved her from the moment he knew about her, but never been given a chance to properly meet her, not even when she was a baby. Koshiro had never been willing to risk it; it was too dangerous. It was always too dangerous.
Momiji was too dangerous. And Momiji had trusted him, and accepted it, because Papa...knew best.
Papa, who had fought to keep him and Momo apart for Momo's entire life, even now that she was nearly an adult. Papa, so desperate to keep Momo from finding out the truth.
Papa, willing to wipe Momo's memories to keep things as he wanted them.
Papa, willing to...
'You are not to go against me on this, am I clear?'
'Just like it's my right to make decisions about my business.'
Momiji's eyes were fixed on the bloody smear. It was fitting, in a way; behind his smiling family, there had always been pain.
"Hans...I don't think I can keep doing this," Momiji said softly, and he felt Hans' hand tighten on his shoulder. Then Hans spoke too, his voice calm, quiet, and direct.
"Tell me what I can do."
