I remember stopping at the walkway to my house. I had to pause for a moment and look at how the Moon hung like a glowing ivory cantaloupe over the roof. Grandpa had built the house in such a way that the rising moon seemed to sit on top for a little while.
I drank in its brightness and sighed heavily, more of a cathartic sigh to banish the negative vibes of the night. I didn't like being down, and Mihoko could be incredibly frustrating. Like a cat that gets its tail stuck in the vacuum cleaner.
I jingled my keys in the dark, smirking at the metallic noise as it dominated the patch of night leading up to the stoop. Then I frowned, shoving my hands and keys into my pockets. I wanted to share the moment, in its drunken brevity; the amusing thrill of the snapshot in time. I rankled a bit at Mihoko's nonchalance concerning the moon.
The moonlight played shadows on the sakura trees, painting the delicate petals in a pale luminescence; surreal and a ghostly neon. I hopped in a disjointd pattern from cobblestone to cobblestone leading up to the step, jumping onto the stoop and pulling my arms from my pockets, thrusting them upwards in an Olympic victory.
Live in the moment, I reminded myself. While I would have certainly loved the company of holding Mihoko in my arms as the night wore on, it didn't mean that the night itself wasn't beautiful. So I cast my mind to other nights, of glorious moons on other eves.
My heart grew warm as I recalled a childhood autumn day, Grandfather carrying me upon his shoulders as the fall festival fireworks burst overhead. The fullness of the memory washed away the worries that had been troubling me.
The memory made all the more vivid from the immaculate white garb Grandfather wore. As the oldest man at the festival, he was probably the sharpest dressed; and brightest, the moonbeams seeming to gather into that ancestral garb.
I could almost smell the scent of sandalwood, the incense that always clung to Grandfather. He lit it religiously in the family shrine, a practice that continued to this day. I blinked, opening my eyes and looking towards the Small practice dojo we had attached to the side of the house, noticing one of the paper lanterns inside was lit and carrying its own warm glow; compliment to the warmth in my breast.
I hopped from the stoop, turning and walking alongside the house, my feet swishing through the dew-kissed grass as I headed towards the glow. I paused a moment, looking down at the grass. Adjusting my gait, I continued on, silently this time.
My head peaked around the corner, looking into the dojo and towards the Shrine wall. The air had snakes of incense floating around, illuminated by the paper lanterns hung on either side of the family Shrine. My mother was dressed in a kimono, which was certainly worth the odd look I was giving the back of her head.
"-And she lacks a complimentary aspect, Father. I know, it is not a Mother's place to be so- picky about the girls her son dates, at least not so openly, Father," My mother pauses, lifting her head, "Perhaps it is because he is growing up, and I am not ready yet to accept that. It seems just yesterday that you were teaching him how to whistle, and now? Girls."
There was some dread mixed with mirth in Mom's voice. I saw her shift a bit, her back straightening as she tensed. I saw her ponytail bob back and forth for a moment, "No, I DO NOT think you would've liked her, and stop being so contrary," She paused again, then sighed heavily, her voice getting irritated, "So what, you are saying that you think I'm being too harsh?"
I shook my own head. Why couldn't my parents talk to dead people normally?
My mom lifted a hand, shaking a finger at the Shrine, "Hey, I recall you weren't exactly easy on a certain young girl, Kana-Sensei," My mother fumed, smoothing her Kimono in consternation. "Besides, the girl makes me feel on edge. I'm not sure why."
I saw her lower her head, a morose tone in her voice, "Oh, I suppose so, Father. You might want to have a talk with him yourself some time. He's got your strong-headedness about some things," She paused, turning her head and looking over her shoulder at me, "Even though he doesn't have the common sense not to try and sneak up on his mother."
I had the good sense to blush, stepping into the doorway, "I- aaah-," It would figure, no matter how quiet I am, Mom always knows I'm there. "S-sorry, Mom. I just saw the light and was wondering who was-"
I blinked, and then she was right in front of me. Arms folded beneath her breasts as she leveled the stone-killing glare at me. "I don't mind so much that you were eavesdropping, as I'd probably have done the same. But You were late for dinner, young man."
My eye twitched briefly as she favored me with her scrutiny. I clapped my hands together and bowed low, "Sumimasen, Mama-sensei," Of course, it only earned me a wrap on the head with her knuckles.
"Oi, what did I say about being so formal? I'm displeased that you were late, I can only imagine what you and Miss Suzuhara were up to," I yelped as she grabbed my ear, grinning mischieviously as she pulled my head up to look at her again, "Well, I hope you two weren't getting TOO active at the movies, I know how you young people can be."
I winced as she let go of my ear, rubbing it I scowled from the pain, "Mom, it wasn't anything like that. I mean, we made out a bit, but-," I paused a moment, meeting eyes with my mother again. "Mom, were you following us?"
Rather than have the sense to be embarrassed, my Mom took on a worried expression; Chewing her bottom lip, her arms folded beneath her breasts again as her eyes looked me up and down, as if comparing against memory. "Sure was, baby boy. I was worried about you, and it looked as if the two of you had an argument. Didn't hear what about, but are you holding up?"
I shook my head, I'd bet another kid would've been furious that their mom was spying on their date. I slid my shoes off and stepped into the dojo, bowing towards the Shrine before I turned back to mom, In the moonlight, she looked very much like a teenage girl. Her bright green eyes stared up at me. "You know you probably shouldn't be following your son around on his date, right? I mean, what if I end up with trust issues, Mom?"
She managed to smile, running her hands down the front of her Kimono. "If I was worried about that, I would've stopped checking on you back in the fifth grade," She clasped her hands behind her, cocking her head to the side, "Hiro, are you alright?"
I turned away, shrugging as I rubbed the back of my head. "I guess so, mom. I mean, it's an argument. Every couple has arguments. Mihoko is just… immature sometimes. It's not like I can blame her. We're two different people," I turned back to her, smiling, "That's the fun of relationships, right? Learning about the other person. Enjoying the company of the difference."
Mom groaned, rubbing her fingers against her forehead, "Oh, my poor butter-headed boy… sometimes, I think you're too easy on things."
"If I'm butter-headed, maybe you're a bit sharp. What WAS that with suggesting I hook up with some of your friends in front of Mihoko?" I crossed my own arms, giving mom my own stern glare. I was never certain if I looked silly when I was being serious.
She held up her finger, "Now now, I only insinuated. Never outright suggested."
"Semantics, Mom. I know you're uneasy with Mihoko, and I guess I can understand some of it," I frowned, remembering again the argument we had had. "But we've been together for three months now, and It would be nice if you could give us a little bit of support."
"Hiroshi, you know a person shouldn't change tactics in mid-stream. She might find it even creepier if I started acting nice to her, I mean, you SAW how she responded!" She held a hand out, palm up as if offering reason, her other hand resting on her hip.
I gave her a flat look, putting my hands on my own hips, "So wait, who is the teenager again?"
Mom gave me that catty smile of hers, her green eyes gleaming in the moonlight, "You can't blame a girl, Hiroshi. She's on my turf, and I'm protective of my little'uns."
I sighed, finding it hard not to smile. "Mom, I love you," It was hard to stay irate. "But you're going to have to try with her. I like Mihoko a lot, and I think she's worth the effort."
She chewed her lip again, a thoughtful look on her face, "It's her boobs, isn't it? Because she lets you-"
I laughed out loud, clapping a hand over my mouth for a moment, "Mom, seriously, that's not it. She's smart, and good company for the most part. I mean, yes, we had a fight tonight… but one fight," She was still giving me that skeptical expression, I growled, "Mom, it's NOT Mihoko's boobs."
"You mean it's not ONLY her boobs," She smirked as she saw me shake my head in consternation.
"Oh, yeah, well. When you put it that way, yes, it's not only her boobs," I threw my hands up, chuckling lightly as Mom giggled for a moment. Then she was quiet.
Slowly she reached out and took my hand, holding it between her own, "Hiroshi, I just want you to be careful. I don't want you to get hurt, and if she makes you happy, I'll do my best to try and be polite."
"No worries, Mom," I gave a heartfelt squeeze of her hand, "Even if things go south, I've got family to help me through."
There was a bit of hesitance, "Yeah, about that," She turned and looked at the family shrine, then back at me.
I'm sure I looked rather confused at her response; it was the best expression to relate how I felt at the time. "Mom, what's going on?" I prodded, as she squeezed my own hand, looking back at me with a supportive expression.
She looked away, giving a strained sort of smile as she tried to put some perk into her voice, "Well, it's kind of mixed news. On the one hand, your sister and niece are coming home to live here for a while," She took one of her hands and held it aloft.
And then the other, "On the other hand, ohhh," She groaned in frustration, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, "YourFatherandIaregoingtoAmericaforayeartoover-seetheAmericanbranchofMiramotoHeavyIndustries," She spat out, hardly a pause between words.
"So you're leaving Memeko in charge of things while you guys are gone," I added, sighing and putting an arm around my Mother. "Mom, you don't have to worry so much. I'm a grown boy, I can deal with romance."
"It's not the romance part I'm worried about. It's the un-romance. You know, the Murphy blues, as your friend always loves to say," Her expression was a flat look, her words said in a husky, semi-serious tone.
"What, you don't trust Memeko to fish me out of the lake and bandage me up?" I saw her open her mouth before I continued in my best imitation of her, "'I trust your sister, Hiroshi, I'd just prefer to be the one doing the bandaging' am I right?"
Mom jabbed me hard with her index and middle finger, right in the ribs, "Cheeky boy," she mewled in a saucy tone. "Yes, I'm your mother and if there's scrapes or bruises to be tended to, I'd prefer it was myself doing the tending."
"I think you tend well enough in other things to let Memeko handle the bumps and abrasions of teenage life," I rubbed where mom had poked me, wincing at how sore it was. "I'm pretty sure if my girlfriend murders me, there'll be enough left for Daisuke to practice scientific resurrection, which I'm sure would only add to the night life of Nerima- OW!"
I rubbed the same spot as before, scowling at Mom, "You could vary where you're jabbing a bit, Mom!"
"To what purpose? It certainly wouldn't be quite as painful, and then you wouldn't have bruises to evidence your mother's ire," She blinked innocently, putting her index to her lips in a thoughtfully vapid fashion, "Should I get the rolling pin, perhaps?"
"Because nothing serves to help romance like a concussion bestowed by a kitchen implement? I'm fairly confident Memeko can bestow such bludgeoning trauma with equal fervor," I half smiled
She pushed me away, batting at my hand as she crossed her arms again, scowling. "I know your sister is beyond her years, and since young Connor's untimely death, she's not one to take another's grieving for granted. I trust that she'd take care of you if you were having difficulties."
"Then what are you so worried about?" I continued rubbing my side, and as I watched my mother's expression, she took on a slightly sad, worried countenance.
She turned, and glided to the family shrine, kneeling she opened one of the small brass boxes sitting at the base of the shrine. She had a small notebook in her hands, and she pressed her lips to its cover, whispering a quiet prayer to the spirit of my Grandfather.
She looked down at the small book, and I felt my brain tickle with memory. My name was messily scrawled on the front of it. I had forgotten all about my journal.
"You will come with me on a walk beneath the moonlight, my son?" Her eyes were focused on the journal as she offered me one of her delicate hands.
I paused, looking at my mother. Her bright eyes seemed filled with a deep sense of solitude, and I again wondered at if my Mother had given up a lot to marry my Father.
"Hai," I said softly, taking her hand in mine. Stepping again to the door, I put my shoes on. My mother's palm was cool in my own, her other hand held the notebook to her breast.
The night was cool, the sounds of crickets playing their see-sawing tune floating. It felt warm beneath the moonlight, despite the briskness of the night air. There was a strange sense of both softness and sharpness.
"Your Grandfather loved you best, Hiroshi. He knew your heart, your spirit. You and he are so very alike," I heard her voice choke slightly, noticing in the moonlight her eyes were glistening. "There are times when you remind me so much of him."
I held her hand a bit more tightly, "I know mom. I know he meant a lot to you," I offered a smile, and she managed one herself, though her moist eyes made the expression either bittersweet or embarrassing.
"Not as much as he meant to you, Hiroshi," She squeezed the binding of the book tightly. "When he was alive, you and he spent so much time together. I sometimes thought that perhaps you should be spending more time with children your own age, rather than your grandfather. Nowadays, I think I was wrong to believe so."
I felt my face frowning. I remembered the Day Grandfather died; he had been in the Dojo, simply sitting; prayer beads in his hands. He'd been sleeping a lot before the end, and quiet; As if there were heavy thoughts on his conscience.
"You're growing up, into a man, Hiroshi. I just want you to become a good man; a great man. I want you to remain the man I saw in you on that day, when your Grandfather passed," She stopped, and I stopped with her as she turned to me. She pressed the book against my chest. "A man that I'm afraid will disappear if he isn't reminded of certain things."
I took the book from my chest, looking down at the cover of it. "I left it for Grandfather, Mom. It should remain there," I held the book back to her. It had been my offering, my expression of my grief over his death. Something I'd left for him to take along in his journey.
She put her hands over mine, gently nudging the book back towards me, "Hiroshi," She sounded ready to cry. "Your soul is deep and providing; it nourishes and is filled with such light." She shook her head, and I could see the tears illuminated in the moonlight.
"M-mom…," I didn't know what else to say. I felt like I should say something, but I wasn't certain. I hadn't seen my mother so emotional before. "What are you trying to tell me?"
She looked up, her eyes determined, even in their sorrow. "I want you to keep that part of you. You haven't written since he died, you spend less and less time in the vault. This busy world, this world of necessity can eat at a person. Your grandfather was like a granite rock in quickly changing times, and if it were not for men like him, women like I would have been cast off the falls to dash on the rocks below."
"I'm worried that you are forgetting yourself with this- this Mihoko girl. That you'll change to accommodate her needs, and that you will just become an accessory to her vision of the world. A vision so stoic and unremarkable that it crushes to be bone," Her tears had stopped, her expression a mask of indifference, even though the tone of her voice had become harshly judgmental.
I had always admired that of my Mother; her ability with words to illustrate an emotion. It was something I had always attempted to emulate in myself. I held the book more carefully in my hands, realizing that my Mother was being serious. "Mom, Mihoko is just my girlfriend, not my fiancée. I'm just seeing how things go."
"And if they don't go anywhere, Hiroshi… will you just shuffle on? Grief is important, it allows us to re-examine our life and consider if we may not have strayed from where we need to be. Too often in this day and age, people are pushed on, encouraged to forget and move on. Forget where you've been, go blundering forward and up-end the applecart."
I reached up and brushed some tears from my Mother's face. She held my hand there briefly. "If I recall, Mrs. Miramoto, you knocked over quite a few in your time."
She barked a short laugh, smiling up at me. "I will so miss you while we're gone, my son. You will take good care of your sister and Kaehmi won't you?"
It was odd thinking of my sister as being accompanied by my niece; I was still unaccustomed to thinking of myself as someone's Uncle. I was too young to be extended family.
"Sure… and I'll keep the book. Read it. Maybe it'll remind me of something," Mom stood on her toes and kissed me on the forehead.
"Where falls the rain, there the soul is cleansed. Though falls the snow, there is time for heart's to mend. Where the sun shines, our dreams dwell in the deep. Beneath the moon's gleam, our hearts find faith to leap," Mother recited, patting a hand softly on my chest.
It had been something my Grandfather had said, something he'd repeated often enough to be annoying to people who didn't know him. It had always been something that left me thinking on what it meant. I shook my head, having had enough recollecting for the night.
"Mm. Is there any dinner left?" I asked, my stomach grumbling lightly.
Mom smiled, wiping at her cheeks with her fingertips as she looked up at me. "Of course, I wouldn't let my only son starve to death on his three month anniversary. Wouldn't be proper, what would the knitting club think?"
I chuckled lightly. "Oh, that you were just getting on with normal punishment for your children."
She jabbed me again, causing me to groan, though this time she was smiling. "I love you, Hiroshi. Don't you ever forget that I love you very much."
"I know, Mom. You remind me enough of it," I reached up and ruffled her hair affectionately.
She gave me an evil look as she carefully rearranged her hair before attacking me with her fingers.
"GAH! NO!" I managed before I burst into laughter, my hands trying futilely to fend her off. The sound of my laughter mingled quite nicely with the moonlit sky.
