Kanae and Yuka saw Kouta sitting by the dining room door.

"Do we have customers already?"

Kanae was even more obvious.

"I thought this was a night off from all the restaurant stuff. Kanae is tired."

Kouta held a finger in front of his lips and gestured for them to come over.

"Guys-Kaede came home-with the principal. Mama and Papa are in with her and him right now."

The two girls' looks of concern had tinges of horror as well. Yuka shook her head.

"Kouta-Kun, what could Kaede have done that was so bad - the principal came here? Usually, parents are called to see him at school, right?"

Kanae bit her lip.

"I heard that reallllly bad little boys have their stuff chopped off-and bad little girls get chopped in half!"

Yuka rolled her eyes.

"Where did you hear nonsense like that?"

Kanae pointed at Yuka.

"From you, alright? I learned it from you."

Kouta stared at Yuka, who shrugged.

"She and her little friend Aki kept interrupting my homework."

Kouta put his ear back to the door.

"You know better than to put ideas like that in her head."

Kanae nodded indignantly.

"That's right!"

Kouta continued.

"You know she'll believe anything you tell her, no matter how stupid it is."

"That's right-hey! Was that an insult?"

Kouta got up and away from the door.

"No, it wasn't."

Kanae folded her arms.

"It better not have been."

Yuka saw Kouta making an effort to look casual as he sat down.

"Did you hear yelling?"

Kouta shook his head.

"No. No yelling the whole time. That's what scares me. But I think they're coming out."

Yuka and Kanae sat down next to their brother on the couch, waiting, as far as their minds would allow, to start mourning their new sister. But Kaede emerged, horns and all, and looking very happy indeed. She looked at her siblings, smiling.

"Guys! Have I got great news. We're saved."

Yuka hadn't expected to hear this, and showed it.

"We're saved?"

Kouta followed up.

"From what?"

Kanae asked the more direct question.

"Kaede Onee-Chan, what's going on?"

Kaede let their mother, Emiko, do the talking.

"Kaede-chan put an idea to Principal Serizawa, and he liked it so much, he came to us to see if it's what we wanted. Now, her quick thinking has saved our business. Kids - we are going to make soup for the school to sell until the kitchens and cafeteria are rebuilt. Its solid money, and if they like our product, they may keep us on even after things are back to normal. Isn't that wonderful?"

Emiko, thrilled that her family's restaurant was once more a going concern, couldn't see what her husband Junichiro saw right away. The other three children did not share her and Kaede's enthusiasm for this idea. Kouta at least tried to put on a good front.

"Really great, Mom. Really good news."

Yuka looked like she'd been punished. In her mind, she had.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing we're not going out of business, then."

Kanae seized on a thread of hope, but as the saying goes, it unraveled fast.

"Mama? Does this mean we don't need to open on the weekends anymore?"

Emiko was so far in her glory, she didn't see even Kaede was thrown by her next words.

"Well, we may not need to - the contract will have us in very good shape. But a restaurant needs to be in the public eye, in order to survive. If we don't open on the weekends, people will forget we're here. An inn like this is about more than making money. It's about making a statement."

Their three children by blood and to a lesser extent Kaede were on the verge of making a statement that would surely get them punished. Kaede looked to Junichiro, who shrugged at his little girl, indicating the argument was a lost cause till Emiko changed her mind, something she was not known to do. The principal shook each parent's hand.

"This arrangement will benefit the whole community, I think. I hope it will show that arsonist they can't shut us down."

Junichiro moved to stop his wife from pushing the children any further with her unrestrained joy by responding first.

"Principal-San? They're certain it was arson?"

"Yes, Kanbe-San. But we'll find out who it was, and the police can see to them. Well, looking forward to Monday. Maybe Cod Barley, or Chicken Corn Chowder? I think the teachers will be excited to have good soup as well."

The Principal left, and with that, the room temperature felt like it dropped a hundred degrees, as far as Kaede was concerned. The looks she saw on her siblings' faces indicated nothing good.

"All right, kids! Let's get some sleep tonight, because the entire rest of this week just became devoted to being ready for next week's lunch."

Their mother's joy was once again not theirs, and even the man who had to share her bed and support her showed that he had his doubts. But Emiko was on a project, and that meant everyone was on a project.

"Huh? Where is everybody?"

Kaede awoke in the night to find her sisters gone. Extra snoring from Kouta's room told her all she needed to know, and more than she wanted to.

"Cowards."

The next days were also filled with stony silence, but for all the work they were doing, they really wouldn't have had much of a chance to talk anyway. Prep for the weekend plus prep for the soup lunch saw to that. Some nights, when Kaede laid down, her sisters were there, but never when she got up. A hurt crept up inside of her, one she thought herself done with for all time.

"Guys, why? Why won't you speak with me?"

The weekend was a bustle, but not too much of one, though Emiko simply swallowed up any down time with continual extra efforts, always with a smile on her face all her children grew to hate. But sometimes, that smile would evaporate all too quickly.

"Are you lying down again? Gee, I wish I had a day off."

This was a mother, and they were in Japan, but Emiko was coming closer than she knew to erasing that barrier. Monday came, school had reopened after fire inspectors were satisfied, and Kaede found herself walking to school alone, her siblings having risen much earlier, though she hoped it was in part to avoid any extra work ideas Emiko might get.

"There they are."

Catching up to them, she determined not to be eluded again and used her 'arms' to get up into the trees. Once above them, she waited for them to stop and listened in. Kanae shrugged.

"How long do we have to keep this up for? Why don't we just say what's on our minds?"

The blunt little girl wasn't shouted down, but Kouta pointed to her hands.

"See how wrinkled they are from scrubbing so many soup pots? My shoulder hurts from moving so many bulky ingredients, and Yuka even got a low grade on a pop quiz!"

Yuka nodded.

"Until she apologizes for what she did, as far as I'm concerned, this can go on forever."

Kaede was a different person now, and hurt though she was, all she chose to do at that point was drop out of the tree, her 'arms' used only to slow her fall, and not that much. She pointed at Yuka.

"I'd tell you where you can go, but Papa asked me not to curse."

She turned to Kanae.

"You! Since when do you follow anyone's orders exactly?"

Finally, she turned to the one she felt the most betrayed by.

"Kouta, you were the first person in my life to make me feel Human. Now you cut me out of your heart over a disagreement? If I did wrong, try telling me. I have ears, along with horns, you know. If you want to hate me, well, I have a lifetime of hate I've endured, so try your worst."

Before the stunned siblings could respond, Kaede hurled herself into the air, landing a good distance closer to the school. Kanae gasped.

"She's not supposed to use her arms like that! Someone could have seen!"

Yuka looked around them, only breathing when she saw that their early departure had given them cover.

"How could she be that stupid? She talks about us hating her, but then she does something that's bound to draw attention?"

Kouta finally realized that, not only had things gone too far, but perhaps the line he thought was there was thinner than he knew.

"Maybe she's not the one who's been stupid."

At lunch, Kaede could barely hear the accolades for the project she had started.

"Great soup, Kaede."

"Beats those robber lunch trucks that circle this place."

"Simple, too. My Dad gave me extra money to fill his thermos for tomorrow."

Kaede couldn't even see what soup was being served, nor any ingredients in it.

"I think maybe it's a little salty."

Once home for the day, she made straight for her room, but this time, someone was in there.

"I don't want to mess around today, Kouta. Besides, do you even want to be near me?"

Kouta looked at her, and shook his head.

"Kaede, you have to stop. We don't hate you. We were angry with you, but it's not the same thing."

For the first time, Kouta really understood the impact his sister's life at the orphanage had on her soul. He began to hate himself for bringing that mistrust back, even if just a little. He saw this in her eyes as never before.

"You froze me out. You left early to avoid me, and you even slept away from me. How can you tell me that isn't about hate? Because I know hate. I know what it feels like from both ends. You won't even speak to me, so what am I supposed to think?"

Kouta felt he was getting nowhere fast trying to explain what they weren't doing, so he gambled on some pushback.

"Well, you didn't speak to us, did you? Just to the Principal and to Mama. All of a sudden, we go from maybe finally having our weekends be our own to having even more of our free time sucked up by this place. Why didn't you talk to us about your plans for the soup lunch program?"

His shift was just enough to engage Kaede, but she wasn't there yet.

"I felt like I had to think fast. The school board would be considering a lot of options for lunch, and for us to have a chance, I had to speak up. I-I didn't feel like telling you, because you all want the restaurant to fail."

Kouta threw up his arms, and now his clear upset had Kaede rethinking her decision, at least somewhat.

"We didn't want that! We just hate working our butts off, all so that just enough people come in those three days to keep us busy, but not enough to make the place worth it. Did you see this past weekend, Kaede? Even fewer people than ever, but Mama still wants this as a full-year operation. We were only supposed to open during special times of year, but then she up and decides we should do this all the time. Now, with your idea, we have the money to forget about busing tables, scrubbing pots and washing dishes. Only now we're doing all that, plus preparing five days of soup for Monday delivery to over three hundred kids. We're tired, and we can't take any more."

Kaede looked down.

"I just wanted this to work out. This house-it's the only place I've ever called home."

Kouta sat back down, his anger vented and Kaede's anger blunted.

"The house isn't going away. We'd still live here. But the pace Mama is asking of us is not one we can give her. Not while keeping our grades up, and maybe a social life."

Kaede relented on telling some things she had been holding back on.

"My original idea to Mama and Papa was to close on the weekends, and open only like you said, during special times of year - maybe the summer, too. But it's like she didn't hear me."

Yuka, who had been listening in around the corner, entered, looking at least slightly apologetic.

"Kaede, Mama is addicted to projects. She tackles anything she does like a tsunami. But you didn't know that, so why didn't you tell us about how she changed your idea?"

Kanae poked her head in.

"Ummm...because we weren't speaking to her, remember, Baka-chan?"

Kaede bypassed that part of it, and explained her real reason.

"Mama and Papa want me here. They said I'm the reason our family came together. My original Mama and Papa-the workers at the orphanage told me they left me in a field to die, after I was born, because of my horns."

As they all took that sad fact in, Kaede teared up.

"Don't you see? I could never defy the Mama that chose me. This is all like a good dream, and I'm so scared I'm gonna wake up, and Tomoo is gonna kill little Pietro in front of me-and then I'd break inside forever."

Kanae held their dog close, thinking curses at the little bully stopped by Kouta. Kaede closed her eyes, forced her tears to stop, and looked at her siblings.

"It's like the men in the song said-God Only Knows What I'd Be Without You."

Up until that point, the three had merely felt like siblings who had come together in a memorable but not a truly remarkable way. Now, they felt a little like heroes, and wanted to rise to this view for the wounded spirit of their sister. Maybe some of their behavior reminded that three of them weren't true siblings, but it was in this light they rose as one. Kouta as always took lead.

"We've been targeting Kaede. But it's Mama we should have been speaking to."

Yuka bit her lip before speaking.

"I'm not sure it will do any good. But it does have to be done."

Kanae nodded.

"Plus, Mama yells the whole weekend. It's like she has an evil split personality or something."

Kaede smiled, and mussed her hair.

"Silly. Things like that don't happen in real life. Teacher's husband is a psychologist, and he said real split personalities happen like the one person doesn't even know the other is there."

Kouta heard this and nearly gasped.

"Is that true? How can that be?"

Yuka shrugged.

"One magazine I saw in the doctor's office said that there can even be more than two personalities. One can be like a small child, and the other a grumpy bitter old misanthrope, and the others anything in between."

Kouta still felt overwhelmed by this concept.

"Is this like when...ummm...what do they call it when someone can't remember any important stuff?"

Kanae couldn't resist the opening.

"I call it Onii-Chan!"

She ran off, with Kouta in hot pursuit, and the other girls joined in, till exhausted, they fell down in the grass. Yuka looked up at the sky.

"Guys, how we do tell Mama our wishes?"

The four were quiet as the stones in the garden. No one had any bright ideas, or any snark to offer up. It took another exhausting weekend, and another rush to prep the soup before the unpaid workers found it in them to stage their strike that Monday evening. It got a predictable result.

"Close the restaurant? Just when we're finally getting back on our feet? Don't you kids know better than to talk this kind of nonsense?"

Yuka stole Kanae's direct bluntness thunder.

"Yes, Mama. It's nonsense when we say something you don't want to hear, and common sense when you say something we don't like."

Emiko was actually quite unnerved by Yuka's openly rebellious words. But she refused to show it, and merely folded her arms while responding.

"That is the way it works, you know."

Kouta went next. While he could be and often was direct, his own tone had a ring of not accepting nonsense, and neither of his parents had any trouble spotting this. Kouta, who had not had a mother for a long time, had been all but worshipful of his late mother's sister until this moment.

"But it's not working. We're all miserable, including the both of you. We're not getting enough people in to make the weekends worth it, and now, with the soup lunch contract, those weekends are actually cutting into the profits."

Emiko was doing her best to keep to her beliefs on this matter. But she had always been fond of this boy, even when he was a rarely-seen nephew, and now as a son, she felt as though she could feel her late sister's pride in him as he grew, and this pride was also her own.

"Well, someone's improved their math standing, I see."

Kanae was a chronic complainer, though calling her a brat more described something she could be, rather than what she was. Now though, her own focus was also off-putting. Kanae had known what a mother was, but given how her own mother had died shortly after giving birth to her, she had been if anything more apt to obey Emiko without being chastised.

"Mama, we do not want the restaurant to close or fail. But Kanae can't stay awake in class. Teacher has threatened to talk to you, if I don't stop doing that. Mama wants the restaurant, and we want to make Mama happy. But not enough people are coming to eat here, because they can come over anytime. Mama and Papa told Kanae that we had to take down the Christmas decorations, because Christmas stuff should be kept special for that. Isn't the restaurant more special when people can only come over sometimes?"

This one fact, of Kanae's exhaustion and possible reprimand, almost took the wind out of Emiko's sails. But like many an effort, the heavy lifting involved created a gravity all its own, the feeling that too much work had been done to not try even harder, hoping against hope for that time of leveling out to make it all right. Even when it's apparent that such a time may never come, the logical conclusion can seem like a cowardly withdrawal. So it still was for Emiko.

"I've said it before. If we are not open all year in some fashion, people will forget us again. Don't you see? My family did what you suggest, some decades back, and it was the beginning of the decline of the Kaede-Sou. Did you know a future American President ate here once? Diplomats, Ambassadors-even some lower-tier members of the Imperial Family - ate here while enjoying the shoreline. We are in a good position to do well. We just have to hold out for better times."

As she sat down, upset that her words were failing even in her own mind, Emiko was hugged by the child she had rescued, in ways she would never realize, from a fate worse than death. Holding her adopted daughter close, Emiko sought support. She would be somewhat disappointed.

"You understand, don't you? You were the one who gave us the ability to hang on."

The girl opened her eyes, and in some ways, the kindness in them was as powerful as the mistrust and despair that had only recently begun to leave them.

"Kaede's better times are here. In this home. Kaede wants what Mama wants. But what Mama wants is too much to do. I don't get tired as easily as the others, but seeing them so tired makes me think of how I held on in the orphanage. I thought it kept me prepared for a better day, but I think now it made me bitter and resentful, till only little Pietro's licks and barks could make me feel anything at all. Kaede thinks we should close except for special times of year. To me, I am with my family, so no amount of work can make me feel any less joyful. Seeing everyone else I love so haggard makes me feel bad. But even I'm starting to feel it. I have many arms, but only two hands."

Emiko looked at Junichiro.

"Not one word of I Told You So."

The children seemed surprised that their father had objected.

"I won't, because I guess I didn't say it strongly enough to take credit. I love you, and unlike some men, I know who the boss is without a problem. Also, this is your family's property, once their pride and joy, and it became our dream. The reality is just going to have to meet up a little better with that dream. The soup contract gives us room to breathe, and figure out our next step in making that dream happen."

He sat next to his wife, their daughter making room for him.

"The kids are wiped, and even in total support for you, I'm getting there fast. You're like Kaede when it comes to energy and drive, but how long can that last?"

Emiko gave in on more than one level.

"We still have reservations for the next month, and we have to honor them. We also have a possible birthday party for a big family whose eldest is nearing ninety years. But after that, we will do-what I probably should have done after the first month of bad returns. Even I knew we couldn't do this all seven days, and I'm just not sure even that would have helped. Everyone - I may have to turn down an opportunity that's come up. Even before this talk, I thought it might be too much."

Yuka was nervous, having vented her rebellious spirit. But she found the courage to risk starting the madness all over again.

"Mama, please tell us what this opportunity is. If we all decide on it, then no one may object."

Emiko took and squeezed her baby's hand in appreciation.

"Thanks, honey. But it may still be too much. See, Principal Serizawa wants to double our soup order."

Everyone was stunned by this, even the prior objectors. Kouta shook his head.

"Double it? Just like that? There's only so many kids in the school, and some still bring lunch from home."

Yuka did the quick math.

"We'd need to buy a flash freezer, to keep it all well until they pick it up. Mama, what brought this on?"

Kaede and Kanae kept quiet rather than raise their own questions as Emiko responded.

"The Principal said that the construction crews working on the new cafeteria liked the soup so much, that they told other workers and truck drivers in the area. The school gets to charge them full price instead of the subsidized one, so it could help us and the school out. But I now really get how I was pushing things too far, and frankly, until Yuka mentioned the flash freezer, the logistics alone overwhelmed me."

Kouta had the first idea.

"The soup isn't like the actual restaurant. We can make it at our own pace, not during set hours, as long as it's ready for Monday pickup."

Kanae resumed her usual bluntness.

"Mama is a lot calmer when we make the soup. It's kind of fun, and like Onii-Chan said, when it's all we do, it's not so bad."

Kaede finished what she had started.

"I can't use my arms when people are around. But if only the family is here, we can get a lot done even faster."

The crisis averted, the realization made, and the steam of family life vented, the month went by and was made all the more bearable by knowing it would not go on forever. Emiko in fact booked four birthday parties over the two weekends after that, but planned events were also easier to handle. Kaede wondered why her siblings didn't object to this last-minute additions. Their reasons were revealed during their first free Saturday in months. Junichiro spoke, Emiko wanting him to say these words, since her own style sometimes echoed Kanae's overly direct ways.

"We told your brother and sisters that we needed these parties to get some extra money. That extra money was for a gift for you, Kaede."

The girl smiled, and seeing the smiles all around made hers all the broader.

"Papa! I don't need a special gift. It should go to all of us instead."

The horned girl still feared resentment, but in this case, it was doubly misplaced.

"Baka! Onii-Chan commands you to listen to Papa speak."

Yuka cut Kouta down to size.

"Yeah. That's not the only thing Onii-Chan commands of her."

Kanae obliged the same.

"Hmph! It's Yuka who commands Onii-Chan when she has her turns!"

The red faces and parental sighs were cut off by Junichiro waving his hands.

"That all we'll discuss later - count on it! But this gift is needed, Kaede-chan. Your mother and I, with your siblings agreeing to keep it a secret, have hired a private detective, to find out who your birth parents are!"

Emiko looked delighted.

"I want three things from them : Your birthday, your medical records, and most of all - to give them a piece of my mind, and I hope that they choke on it! I want to show them the lovely girl they gave up for no good reason. They hurt my Kaede, and I want to demand an apology for it."

Kaede seemed stunned, and did not seem to share in her family's joy.

"Kaede appreciates the gift, and all her family's hard work for her. But while I would like to know my real birthday, and medical records are needed - please don't tell me anything about these people. They can burn in hell as far as I'm concerned."

The stunned looks on their faces were matched by silence as Kaede finished.

"I will meet with this private investigator. But please keep anything they find from me. I am Kaede Kanbe, of the Kaede-Sou. I have a lovely Mama, a wonderful Papa, a playful Onii-Chan, a pushy Onee-Chan-and a Kanae. That is all I need. Arigato, My Family."

As she bowed, only Kanae spoke up.

"That last part was a shot, wasn't it?"