Secret
The house was devoid of life, something very unusual for the Asakura family. Hana sat on his bed and leaned his back against the wall to peer out of his bedroom window. His father was still outside talking to the policemen who were asking questions about the incident. Although he couldn't hear their voices it was certain they were talking about him. The silence was crippling. He frowned from a slight headache that was beginning to surface.
"Hana?"
The soft voice startled him briefly but he didn't turn around. After taking a moment to stare at him in the doorway, she stepped inside his room and closed the door. Hana didn't respond to the sounds behind him and watched as his father waved his hands around as if explaining something important. She sat beside him, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder, and exhaled.
"Please don't touch me," he said.
She quickly removed her hand and rested both in her lap. "Do you want to talk?"
There was something about the kindness in her voice that deeply annoyed him. He frowned slightly and tried to push away the negative thoughts encircling his brain. She brushed a few strands of her pink hair away from her eyes and moved against the wall to view the window. Her new vicinity was more uncomfortable than before; he closed his eyes.
"Why are you here?" Hana tried to sound calm, but his voice revealed more anger than necessary.
"Your parents wanted me to stay with you for a while."
"I don't need a babysitter."
"They're going to the police station soon," she mumbled.
"Why? Why are they still asking questions?"
She stared at the floor gravely and paused before responding. "Because...there are some things that don't make sense to them."
Hana faced her abruptly and grabbed her hand but quickly released it. "Do you know what they're talking about, Tamao?"
"Don't worry about it," she said with a weak smile. "I'm sure Yoh will fix it."
"Fix what? What are they saying? What are they gonna do?"
Tamao sighed and reluctantly held his hand. "Do you remember what happened?"
"I already told them what happened," Hana replied with anger. "He got hit by a car."
"He didn't really get hit by a car," she whispered, but then quickly changed her tone. "He was crushed by a car."
"What's the difference?"
"Hana, the car was parked in the alley. No one was driving it. But that boy just happened to get crushed? That doesn't make sense." She squeezed his hand.
Hana stared blankly into his lap and didn't respond.
"What happened?"
"He got hit by a car," he repeated.
"I won't tell them." There was sadness in her voice. "It won't leave this room. I promise."
He stood abruptly from the bed and walked to a nearby desk. Tamao watched as he searched the drawers for something specific. He was mumbling something inaudible but stopped abruptly when he pulled out a worn baseball.
"Hana, what are you doing?"
"If I say it you'll tell."
"...What?"
He sat on the floor with his legs folded beneath him and motioned for her to follow. Tamao sat in front of him and mimicked his position, folding her arms hesitantly in her lap. He placed the ball on the floor between them and allowed it to roll a few inches before resting against one of the seams. She moved back slightly without cause and stared at him.
"Don't move," he said.
She nodded and stared at the ball with slight anticipation and great fear as he rested his hands loosely on his knees.
"I know Papa says it's bad to hate people, but I can't help it. I hate him. I've always hated him. I hope he dies."
She couldn't respond. The ball began to levitate, which quickly distracted her.
"He's in a coma anyway." Hana stared blankly into her eyes. "They should let him die."
Tamao noticed the boy wasn't moving at all, but the ball continued levitating until even with his nose. She stared at it wildly and held her breath as it began to crush slowly under its own weight. Gasping lightly, she resisted the urge to cover her mouth with her hand.
"Why do you...hate him so much?" she asked.
Hana didn't respond. His blank expression morphed into one of great malice. She couldn't see his entire face, but his eyes were menacing. A chill ran down her spine as he stared at her, and she jumped when the ball suddenly burst into flames.
"I should have made sure he was dead." He held out his hand and stared at the burning ball.
"Stop doing that. W-what are you doing?"
The flames quickly dispelled, and the remains fell lightly into his hand. Tamao stared at him with her mouth open for several moments, unable to speak. Hana's demeanor shifted as he dropped the ashes onto the floor.
"Please don't tell Papa! Please, please Tamao!"
"Where did you...learn that?"
"I don't know. It just...happened I guess."
Tamao reached forward and tightly grabbed his wrists. He fearfully stared at her as if waiting for some sort of punishment.
"Don't ever do that again, Hana!" she said angrily. "I don't ever want to see that again! Do you understand?"
"I understand," he whimpered.
She released him and they sat in front of each other in silence for several moments.
"What else have you been doing?" Her question seemed accusatory.
"What do you mean?" he asked softly.
"You didn't move your hands, and you were looking at me the entire time."
"So what?" Hana shrugged.
"How much of this do they know about?"
"Who?"
"Yoh and Anna," she sighed.
Hana stood abruptly and exhaled. Tamao followed but sat on the edge of the bed as he paced slowly in front of her. His hands were loose at his sides at first but he quickly balled them into fists as he spoke.
"They don't know anything. I faked it so Papa wouldn't give me that speech about how we're supposed to blend in with everyone else."
"They think you don't have any abilities?" Tamao looked at the ashes again and held her hand against her chest. "You can't lie to them about something like this."
"I've been lying for years." Hana rolled his eyes in disgust. "They don't care anyway."
"Hana, how many people do you know are able to crush cars on top of people?" she asked. "This is serious."
He groaned without an answer.
"Yoh couldn't control anything until he was at least thirteen or fourteen. You're eight years old. Do you get what I'm saying?"
"So, you're gonna tell them?" he asked weakly.
"No, Hana, but I think you should."
"If I tell them, they'll get rid of me. Just like my uncle."
"What are you talking about?" Tamao stood abruptly and followed the boy as he paced in front of the bed.
"They hated him because he was different," he said. "Papa wanted him to be normal, but he couldn't be."
She stared at him with a frown, but he didn't notice her visible protest.
"They won't tell me anything about him," he said with frustration. "I don't even know his name. They tell stories about him at school all the time. And—"
"Hao," she interrupted, "and it was more complicated than you think. Yoh loved his brother very much, Hana."
"If he loved him, why did he kill him?"
"What?" she whispered.
"Why do you think they pick on me? Because my family is crazy, that's why. Papa's a murderer, and my uncle was crazy, and Mama pretends like nothing's wrong."
"Stop it. You don't know what you're talking about. Those kids don't know what they're talking about."
"What happened, Tamao?" Hana faced her slowly as his eyes filled with tears. "How did he die?"
She avoided his eyes and stared at the floor. "I can't tell you."
