Masae 13: When All Is Said And Done

Masae had told almost all of her story to Shiho, but felt compelled to tie up one last loose end from her story about her husband, and, in doing so, give a final demonstration of why she believed what she did.

"My husband, as I said before, had to choose between me and his family, and chose me," Masae said. "He knew which choice he wanted to make, and suggested that he always had. But while he believed he had made the right decision, he was not completely happy with how things had turned out."

Maho nodded solemnly, recalling what Masae had told her at the semifinals. Ordinarily, she would have stressed that nothing had necessarily ended between Masaru and his family, but she knew what the outcome had been, and its finality.

"As time passed, my husband began to more keenly feel the absence of his family in his life, as he had suggested minutes after he had been cast out," Masae said. "He never came to regret his decision, but held out hope that his family would come around- 'the best of both worlds,' if you will. He placed a call to his brother, but his voice mail and e-mail were never returned. We sent out wedding invitations to his parents and siblings, but they never responded."

Miho looked saddened, uncomfortably reminded of how Teru had given her own sister the cold shoulder, and the sense of helplessness and frustration Saki felt as her efforts at reconciliation were rebuffed without even understanding why. In the end, it had taken a great deal of persistence on Saki's part, as well as that of a few other people, and most of all, a change of heart by Teru, for the Miyanaga sisters to reconcile, and it had not been enough to repair their parents' relationship. From what Masae was saying, her husband did not have nearly as happy an outcome.

She also was reminded of an even longer time ago, when her old friend Emi saying that she hated Maho despite never having met her sparked a fight between Miho and Emi. When Emi coldly rejected Miho's apology, her mother was quite exasperated, and was insistent that Emi mend fences with Miho before they parted, quite possibly for the last time, when Emi returned to Germany. A few weeks later, when Emi did return to Germany, Miho was determined to see her off on good terms. Miho missed Emi, and hoped to see her again someday, but was glad that neither of them had any lingering regrets, and saddened that Masae could not say the same about her husband.

"Time passed, and everything my husband tried failed," Masae said. "We never found out whether his siblings and the friends of the family were shunning him because they agreed with the decision to disown him, or because they were ordered to ostracize him. But my husband never gave up trying for reconciliation and searching for answers… until one night eight years ago, when all hope faded."

Eight years ago

One night, inside the Atago family home, Masae, having put her daughters to bed, stepped outside their room. Noticing Sakura, Masae put a finger on her lips. Sakura, understanding her mistress' signal, walked down the hall and when she spoke, she did so softly.

"Masae-sama?" Sakura said. "I finished in the kitchen."

"Good work, Sakura," Masae said. "I put the girls to bed, and I'd like to talk with my husband. Is he available?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sakura said. "Masaru-sama's working in his office.'

Sakura then led Masae to Masaru's office, and opened the sliding door a crack. Masaru was wearing a polo shirt and khaki pants.

"Masaru-sama?" Sakura said. "Masae-sama has put Hiroe-sama and Kinue-sama to bed, and would like to join you."

"Please send her in, Sakura," Masaru said, and Sakura ushered Masae into her husband's office, closing the door behind her.

Masaru was seated at his computer, looking for information on his family. Three framed photos were on his desk. One was of his wedding, with him standing beside Masae along with Masae's family and some of their friends. Another was of a six year old Kinue with a seven year old Hiroe and Hiroko. The third was an old picture of himself with his parents and siblings, one of the few he had left.

"Hello, dear," Masae said. "How are things going as far as your efforts to reach out to your family go?"

Masaru nodded enthusiastically. Part of his plans to regain contact with his family was to keep apprised of what they were up to from far away.

"I've found some interesting results lately," Masaru said. "My older brother's eldest son was recently nominated for an academic award at his middle school- none other than the school where my older siblings and I attended. I also saw my sister in the picture that was published."

"His parents and aunt must be proud, to see him living up to their standards," Masae said, briefly reflecting on the fact that Shiho had daughters, and wondering if they were going through something similar to what Masaru dealt with in his childhood. "I may not be close enough to truly call myself his aunt the same way Ayane-nee-san can, but I, too, wish him the best."

Masaru nodded approvingly. While Masae's perspective on his parents had not improved, she respected his desire to think of his family as hers. She had not parted with her in-laws on good terms, but if they were prepared to welcome her husband back into the family, she, too would do her best to be conciliatory.

"I feel the same way, dear," Masaru said. "For what it's worth, I'm happy for my nephew, if he's getting what I never had. I just hope he finds someone that will accept him for who he is, not because he's the Suzuki family's heir or an academic superstar."

Masae smiled warmly, but it faded when Masaru changed the subject, arriving at his original point.

"But really, I was a bit surprised that my older brother's kids are already this old, since he didn't have any when I was cast out of the family," Masaru said. "Hiroe and Kinue have grown up faster than we thought, but this is something else."

Masae nodded. It was a sobering realization that while they had spent a long time raising their daughters, it had been so much longer since Masaru had been in touch with his family. The Atago and Funakubo families remained close, with Hiroko having known Hiroe and Kinue since they were toddlers, but would there be a possibility for the Atagos to connect with the Suzukis?

Masaru continued to read for several more minutes, before trying a different set of search parameters. His eyes widened in horror and shock.

"Is something wrong, dear?" Masae said, having only followed her husband's searching when he had something to tell her..

Masae followed Masaru's eyes and saw the news story among the search results, apparently breaking news. Masaru's parents had been in a traffic accident, when a vehicle struck their limousine from the side. Byakuya had been killed instantly, while Suzuka had been transported to the hospital and pronounced dead on arrival.

"This... can't be happening," Masaru said, desperately trying to keep his voice down to avoid waking his daughters.

Words failed the married couple at this point, as the worst possible couple had happened. Masae wrapped her husband in a comforting embrace. It seemed like a small gesture, but it was all she could do at the moment to be there for him.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes. Masaru would have more to deal with in the days and weeks to come, and would have to spend the rest of his life coming to terms with this, but for now, he could take comfort in the fact that his wife was right there, offering him her unconditional support.

Present day

"My husband was left with many unanswered questions about his family after his parents' deaths," Masae said. "Did they ever regret disowning him? Were they hoping that he would one day change his mind? Did his mother think about him in her final moments? Did he ever have any chance at all of reconciling with them? The only answers he had were the ones he could come up with himself, and he was too much of a realist to imagine very pleasant ones."

Miho nodded somberly, reminded of what had befallen her friend Mako's parents. The Reizeis were, by all accounts, good people who wanted the best for Mako, who regretted ever getting into an argument with them, so it seemed very likely that they would have somewhat easily made up afterward. Since Mako had lost the opportunity to apologize, she, in spite of her laziness, was adamant that people not put off their troubles for tomorrow or let petty differences drive rifts between them and their loved ones.

"I wonder what Mako-san would think of Atago Masaru-san," Miho thought. "Perhaps she'd be amazed that he tried for so long and so hard, even when his family seemed unreceptive."

"In any case," Masae said, "one friend of my husband's family soon e-mailed my husband to let him know when and where his parents' funeral would take place. He had once told my husband, in response to one of his requests for him to act as a possible mediator or intermediary, that he was the only one who could do what his parents needed him to do. I wonder if he was hoping that my husband would do it, just as I wondered whether his sister had expressed a similar sentiment the day he and I got engaged."

"I still remember hearing about the funeral, even though I didn't go to it" Hiroko said. "My parents looked after Hiroe and Kinue while Aunt Masae and Uncle Masaru were out of town for the funeral."

"To be honest, Kinue and I never knew Dad's side of the family, and we didn't like what we heard, to say the least," Hiroe said. "Even back then, we had some idea of what had happened. But it was still hard on us, seeing Dad like that, experiencing what we would if we lost both him and Mom. Still, we had a good time with Hiroko, Aunt Masaki and Uncle Masaya."

"You went to their funeral, even after what they had done, Instructor Atago?" Maho said.

"Not for their sake, Maho," Masae said. "My husband had just lost his parents, and I wanted to be there for him, and support him as he was grieving. I wonder what my mother-in-law would have said to that, if she had been around to hear it."

Eight years ago

Masaru and Masae got dressed for the event in the hotel room, having ended up with a lower-quality room due to the short notice. Since leaving their home, they had packed little other than the clothes they would wear to the funeral.

"Dear, I'm ready," Masae said, walking to Masaru after she had finished dressing. She wore a dark skirt suit with a black necktie. Masaru wore a similar dark suit.

"You look nice," Masaru said.

Masae smiled and nodded. The last time she had gone to see his parents, she wore a kimono, forgoing her personal comfort to accommodate their desires. Now, she wore a more modern, but still tasteful, outfit, intending to treat their funeral with the appropriate seriousness it deserved, but choosing to do so her own way.

"Thank you, dear," Masae said. "I've always thought black is too somber of a color, but it fits the occasion."

"I wonder what my parents would say about your appearance, or even the fact that you showed up at all," Masaru said. "But I suppose that's one of many things that I'll never get to ask them."

Masae silently agreed. She was no longer certain whether her husband's parents were as arrogant and overbearing as they seemed in Masaru's recollections of them or her personal experience. On the one hand, she knew that she had little first-hand knowledge of them, and her source was not free of bias. On the other, Masae always believed that no matter how much people tried to hide their true nature or conform to a situation, a small part of their true personality would manifest, and she believed she'd seen part of what.

But her husband's parents were nothing more than memories now, and the rift between them and their son, having never healed, had now become a regret. All that was left for Masae were unanswered questions, chief among them whether conflicts of this nature necessitated permanently sundering the bonds between parents and children.

Masaru and Masae parked their car and walked to the funeral, a somewhat traditional Japanese ceremony with a large audience in attendance. Masaru could still recognize some of the faces there, though, including some of his estranged family and his family's friends.

Most of the mourners at the funeral said little to him, typically only giving the barest acknowledgment of his presence. Masaru realized that most of his ties with them were through his parents in some way. He was the child of their business partners, their friends, or even their parents, and now that they had disavowed their relationship, they had nothing in common anymore. Perhaps being related to them by blood was the only tie he had with them, but their absence from his life, first by disowning, and then through death, still hurt him.

After the funeral concluded, the mourners began to depart. Masaru's brother parted ways from him without a word, and his sister gave him a brief glance over her shoulder as she walked away. Finally, Masae and Masaru stood alone.

"It looks like it's time to leave," Masae said. "Did you find what you came here for, dear?"

Masaru shrugged.

"I don't know what my siblings or the others think about why I came here," Masaru said. "I know, from speaking to my family's lawyer, that I was written out of the will by the end of the day you walked into our house with my engagement ring on your finger. I also find it unlikely that if my siblings stopped talking to me, they would start doing so again now. I suppose I'm only here because I miss my parents, I wish things between us hadn't ended this way, and would like some sort of closure, even if my parents may not be far from my mind for the rest of my life. It's likely that no one besides you will understand that, dear, but that's the truth. Coming here today was something I had to do for my own sake, regardless of whether anyone would know or understand why."

"No, I think I understand and agree with you, Suzuki Masaru, or should I say, Atago Masaru," a man said. "For I'm here for the same reasons.'

The speaker, an older man, in a dark suit, who would have been the same age as Masaru's parents were at the time of their deaths, approached the couple.

"I beg your pardon, sir, but do you know me?" Masaru said.

"Know you?" the man said. "That's a bit of an understatement, considering you're my nephew."

Both Masae and Masaru looked at each other.

"I'm your father's older brother, although Byakuya would not recognize me as such," the man said. "My name is Suzuki Kariya."

Masaru's eyes widened. Kariya's name had come up when he was looking to reach out to his family, but he had never heard of him being acknowledged by the family.

"You were disowned as well, Uncle?" Masaru said.

"Yes," Kariya said. "I was a young man, and, not unlike you, fell in love with a girl who wasn't up to my family's standards. We had a son and a daughter, who in turn, gave us a granddaughter and two grandsons, respectively. But my parents wouldn't acknowledge those grandchildren and great-grandchildren as theirs, not even at the end, and not even after my the person for whom I chose to defy my parents was gone from the world."

"Do you mean…?" Masaru said, while subconsciously glancing at Masae. Kariya nodded, a somber expression on his face.

"Sadly, my wife passed away a few months before our parents," Kariya said. "Byakuya and I met at our parents' funerals, but too much had happened, and we'd grown apart too much in the years since. We barely spoke back then, apart from telling each other about our respective families, and he made it clear that he didn't want to see me around his. He seemed better at conversing with an old schoolmate of our father, who hadn't seen our father in years and had never met either of us. I think it was largely because he and that man had no history."

"So why are you here today, Uncle?" Masaru said.

"It's because in spite of everything that happened, I couldn't help but think of Byakuya and the others as family," Kariya said. "That's why I attended our parents' funerals, and why I'm here again today, to pay tribute to the brother I once knew. Even after years of estrangement, and even after growing apart before then in our adolescence and young adulthood, I still look back fondly on the time we spent together as small children. The fact that it's over doesn't mean that it never happened, and the fact that Byakuya is no longer the brother I remember does not mean that he was never important to me."

"You really think so, Uncle?" Masaru said surprised.

"I do," Kariya said. "I also think that conflicts of this sort matter little when all is said and done, especially after one is dead. You can't take your money, your traditions, or anything else to the grave. But for what it's worth, Masaru, I'd like to get to know you and your wife in the time I have left."

"So do I, Uncle," Masaru said. "My wife and I hope to raise our daughters differently from the way you and I were raised."

Kariya nodded.

"I should be going," he said, handing them his card. "Here's my card; I hope to keep in touch with both of you."

Masae and Masaru produced their cards, for the Atago School and Masaru's business, respectively.

"So should we, Uncle," Masaru said. "I look forward to hearing from you again."

"So do I," Masae said. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, sir."

"Kariya, please," Kariya said.

"It has been a pleasure meeting you, Kariya-san," Masae said.

"Likewise, Masae-san," Kariya said. "Masaru chose well."

In the afternoon of the next day, Masae and Masaru's car pulled into the parking lot of the house where Masaki lived with Masaya and Hiroko. Masae and Masaru, having changed into casual clothing, got out, walked up to the front porch, and rang the doorbell.

"Welcome back, Nee-san, Masaru-nii-san," Masaki said, answering the door.

"It's good to be back, Masaki," Masae said. She and her husband stepped inside, took off their shoes, walked into the living room, and sat down on the couch across from Masaki, who sat in a chair. "How were Hiroe and Kinue?"

"They had fun with Hiroko while they were here," Masaki said. "In spite of the circumstances, it was nice having them over."

Masae smiled appreciatively.

"That's good to hear, Masaki-san," Masaru said. "I'm sorry I imposed on you."

"Not at all," Masaki said pleasantly. "I enjoyed spending time with my nieces, and Hiroko was glad to see her cousins."

"Well, then, should I apologize for taking them off your hands?" Masaru said playfully.

"You shouldn't," Masaki said. "Because we'll likely see each other in the near future. Right, Nee-san?"

"Indeed, Masaki," Masae said, "I'll have you, your husband and your daughter over for dinner some time soon. But for now, let's pick up the girls and get going."

Masaki nodded, then turned to the nearby stairs, and called up.

"Hiroe, Kinue," Masaki called out. "Your mom and dad are here to pick you up."

"Coming, Aunt Masaki!" Hiroe said, as they walked downstairs, followed by Hiroko.

While in the presence of her daughters and her sister, Masae could not help but think about family. She and her sister had been close since they were young, and redoubled that effort now that they were both mothers. Masae's two daughters got along well, even considering how their personalities were starting to diverge, with Hiroe becoming more outspoken, confident and interested in tanks, as Kinue was becoming kind, mild-mannered and athletic.

She thus found it hard to accept that other siblings had more troubled relationships, as much as she could not deny it. Did her siblings-in-law really value their family as an organization more than their family itself? Did they believe their brother's shortcomings justified their treating him as the black sheep of the family? And could they really forget him so easily? Masae hoped that there was a part of them that did care for their youngest brother, even if they never showed it to her.

"Is something wrong, Mom?" Kinue said.

"Nothing, Kinue," Masae said. "I'm just thinking."

Hiroe and Kinue looked at each other, but said nothing. Their father had told them little about their in-laws, but they had some idea of how difficult a subject it was, and even the relatively outspoken Hiroe did not wish to pry.

After saying her goodbyes to her sister and her niece, Masae got into the car, with Masaru, Hiroe and Kinue following, and began the drive home. Masae didn't know yet how long her school would last, but hoped that, even if it outlived her and her children, none of her family would ever lose sight of what mattered most, especially when she owed so much to them.

"I couldn't have founded my school without the support and help of many people, my famliy most of all," Masae thought. "And while I'll have to do a great deal in the future to keep it running, I'll never lose sight of the people who matter most or view them as a means to an end."

Present day

"Even after my parents' deaths, my husband never reconnected with his siblings," Masae said. "He and I aren't entirely sure whether it's because they'd grown apart in the years they spent apart, as Kariya-san said, or whether they never had much in common to begin with."

"I'm sorry to hear this, Instructor Atago," Miho said. "A friend of mine and her sister were… separated by certain circumstances, and not on the best of terms, for about three years. They're working to reconnect now."

"I'm glad to hear that, Miho," Masae said. "I won't ask you for the details, or even those girls' names, but please tell them I, as a person who remains close with my younger sister, wish them the best."

Maho, also having known the Miyanaga sisters, knew what Miho was talking about, and believed it required no further discussion. She simply nodded, and, to change the subject, she moved on to her next question.

"What about your husband's uncle, Instructor Atago?" Maho said. "If he and your husband connected, would that not be proof of the latter theory being more likely for your husband and his siblings?"

"You might be right, Maho," Masae said. "Kariya-san and Masaru managed to connect, but I'm not sure if it's as uncle and nephew, but as individuals who were cast out of their families and tried to do better for their children. In any case, it's certainly different from my relationship with Hiroko."

"I agree with Aunt Masae," Hiroko said. "She's often been present in my life, and taught me a great deal about tankery. I have a great deal of love and respect for her, and the same goes for her husband and her daughters."

"Yeah," Hiroe said. "Kinue and I have known Hiroko since we were little, and see her as being somewhere between a best friend and a sister. On the other hand, we don't know any of our first cousins on our dad's side of the family, although I don't think I'd get along with Mr. Academic Overachiever, especially if he was obsessed with sucking up to his tankery-hating grandpa... who also happened to be my grandpa."

"That's a good point, Hiroe," Masae said. "Your father knew that he was only growing further apart from his family over the years, and the differences between how he and his siblings raised his children was only further proof of that. Of course, in spite of everything, he never stopped thinking of Reito-nii-san and Ayane-nee-san as his siblings."

"I understand how he feels," Miho said.

Masae nodded in understanding, realizing the sentiments that Maho had told her about the previous night, and seeing it as a good way to segue into her final point.

"To sum it all up, the deaths of my husband's parents put an end to his efforts to reconcile with them, and it's possible that every year of estrangement lowered their chances of reconciling," Masae said. "But, more than anything, when all was said and done, the disputes over whether I was a suitable match for him mattered little in the grand scheme of things. That's why my husband attended the funeral. And he believes that's why his siblings tolerated his presence, my presence, and their uncle's presence there."

A moment of silence ensued.

"I believe now is a good point at which to end my story, after showing how little some of the issues that divide families matter in the grand scheme of things," Masae said. "Because I could not sacrifice everything else in the pursuit of victory, I changed schools, and eventually founded one that focused on individual tankers' development. Because I saw my husband treated as a pariah and cast out of his family, he and I vowed to make a loving home for our daughters."

Masae paused, noticing that the rest of the table's mood had turned somber. She had never shied away from the difficult subjects before, but at this moment, felt the time had come to shift from talking about the regrets of the past to her hopes for the present and future.

"On a more positive note, I also emulated those I admired most," Masae said. "My parents were firm but not overly strict, as well as kind but not soft, so I tried to raise Hiroe and Kinue the same way I was raised. Kumakura-sensei taught that there were things that mattered more than victory, as well as encouraging her students to come to their own conclusions, so I did the same with mine. Instead of following an idea to extremes, I favor seeking a happy medium, and think of the future, rather than solely following tradition and precedent. As such, Instructor Nishizumi, I can see why you would choose to emulate those you respect, even if you and I have different standards about what makes people respectable."

Shiho silently nodded, unwilling to contest Masae's points. She did not see love, happiness or the personal development of tankers as anathema to her, but saw all of them as merely adding flavor to life, like cream and sugar in coffee. Such things had their benefits, but they were far from essential, and she was willing to sacrifice them for the sake of success. She had made those sacrifices herself, and believed that she and those for whom she was responsible were better off for it.

"I understand now why you value what you do, Instructor Atago," Shiho said, "But now I have one more story to tell you, Instructor Atago, one that shows why I'm dedicated to carrying on my mother's will, even years after her death."

Author's Notes

This part comes off as something of a foregone conclusion if you know what Masae told Maho, but it had its impact on her and her husband, and it had to be said. It also gives Masae a chance to say what is most important to her.

It's somewhat surprising how many people Miho knows have had difficult family relationships, whether with parents, siblings or both. On the other hand, however, it has become clear to Miho what a happy family looks like, even before the Atagos, and she has known, ever since Emi pointed out that the Nishizumis are exceptionally strict, that her own family is far from normal.

Masae's story has just concluded, and in the next chapter, Shiho's story will as well.