Chapter 9

Hana always made good grades.

Until she began university. Her first midterm came back to a near fail. It was distressing, and also terrifying. She didn't have the luxury of tutors that would slowly run through concepts with her. The pace of her classes picked up quicker than she had ever imagined and suddenly she was drowning in assignments, readings, lectures and a barrage of midterms on the way.

Hana quickly learned that it wouldn't be possible to keep up with her modelling career during the school year if she wanted to at least pass the first semester of her studies. She managed to walk the runway for the fall New York Fashion Week since it had taken place during the beginning of the semester. But it was exactly that one week of missed classes that caused her to fall behind in an instant.

Tuition was ridiculously high as an international student and Hana refused to use her family's credit card to pay it off.

What do you think your education will get you? Who do you think is paying for it?

So everything came out of her own account. The years of modelling jobs that accumulated into her bank account began quickly depleting as she paid her own bills.

Hana sat in the small loft, sitting at the kitchen table as she studied for an accounting midterm. It was past 2 in the morning, and she was stuck on the last question of the review. Hana sighed and blankly checked her phone.

2:08 AM EST

Kaina has a cold. Sawada-san says hello.

Mori often updated her on the status of what happened during his weekly visits to her grandfather. Hana smiled at the screen. It was the only thing that kept her from losing her mind and the anxiety of being on the verge of failing first year.

He knows we text?

Hana put down her phone and reattempted the question she was stuck on. Within minutes, her phone vibrated.

Yes.

One worded answers became the norm for Hana when speaking to Takashi in real life, but through text, Hana found it frustrating at first. Over the weeks, she had come to accept the way he texted for it was an exact reflection of how he spoke. It comforted her to some degree. She wasn't sure why.

You're up late.

Hana answered within seconds.

Studying. How about you?

The wait always felt excruciatingly long.

Walking home.
You should study.

Hana pouted at the text. Accounting was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment.

No, stay with me. Just a few more minutes. Tell me about your classes. What's been on your mind?

He answered quickly.

Descartes.

Hana raised an eyebrow. She'd heard of him.

"I think, therefore I am," – right? What does it really mean?

It was a philosophical preposition she'd read somewhere, posed by the French philosopher Descartes.

If you are capable of thought, you exist.

Hana read the sentence over a couple times.

What do you mean?

Takashi met up with Sawada-san on a weekly basis. 8 AM on Saturdays, where they would train, walk the dog through the park, and do errands. Hana's grandfather found himself looking forward to those days. Oftentimes, he spent his days with the dog, reading the newspaper, and exercising. It was a simple life, with days passing quicker than he remembered them to be.

He caught the young man staring at the glass screen one day, before he came out with a pot of tea into their living room.

"What's so interesting?" the elder peered over Mori's phone and noticed Hana's name. The grandfather put the pot down on the table and swiftly took the device out of his hands.

Kaina has a cold, he read. Hana's grandfather scrolled upwards.

Sawada-san went to the doctor's.
He's fine.

"You've been spending time with me so you could spy on me?" the elder raised an eyebrow and watched Mori purse his lips before clearing his throat. He had no excuse. Though Mori would hardly call it spying.

"Hana's just worried," Takashi tried to explain.
"That brat calls me every other week like clockwork and she's still worried?" the elder grumbled. "I'm not that old." He was in his early seventies, but he hardly felt it.

Sawada threw the phone back to the boy and grunted. "Tell her I said hello." Mori nodded obediently. They finished up their day and soon enough Mori was on his way home to a paper waiting to be submitted. He texted her before walking through the park, and to his surprise, she texted back almost instantly.

Oftentimes, Hana would answer the day after, or not at all. Mori never minded, understanding that she must have been busy. At the very least, his text messages never went unread. The small indication at the bottom of his text messages often showed that it was read by at least the day after.

He always felt like he was bothersome to her. It wasn't her fault, at all. Mori just felt inadequate. She was off in the States, at a prestigious program while he stayed in his comfort zone. She was pursuing her goals while he had none in particular. She was busy, and he still had the time to pet stray dogs along the way home whenever he came across any.

Takashi knew that he was in no place to keep her from doing what she needed to do. He promptly texted her to study and suddenly he was sitting on the bench on a windy autumn afternoon contemplating how to explain Descartes to her.

"I think, therefore I am," refers to Descartes' argument on proving existence.

Hana quickly texted back. How?

Descartes argued anyone capable of thought exists. How would you prove your own existence? One's perception of reality may not really be reality at all.

Hana stared at her phone for a few minutes. One's perception of reality may not really be reality at all.

This was too much for 2:30 AM. She had a midterm in less than 8 hours. Her brain was incapable of comprehending these unsettling thoughts. She wondered how Takashi dealt with these thoughts on a regular basis.

Sorry. Brain is incapable of thought at 2:32 AM. Will ponder these thoughts when I'm not terrified of my entire perception of reality to potentially be completely false – or that I actually do not exist.

Mori inwardly chuckled. That wasn't quite the point of Descartes. Philosophical arguments often had the tendency to cause one to question many things, though it was only a school of thought after all – it was important to distinguish thoughts from reality.

Good luck. He typed. Bye. Mori pressed the backspace and erased the word. He didn't want to say bye.

He never wanted to say good bye. Not now. Not anytime soon.

She stepped out of the airport with snow falling onto the ground. It was December.

Hana didn't really feel like she was home in Tokyo, but she came back because there wasn't anywhere else to really go.

Her first term at university ended with high levels of anxiety, and she was losing sleep over whether or not she had passed all her courses. Her grades were slowly rolling out, one by one, each email had been unopened. Hana did not have the courage to read them.

She had about a little more than a month before she had to begin the second half of her school year. Hana had multiple shoots lined up for her, a total of 5 projects waiting to be fulfilled when she came back to Asia.

There was something comforting about falling back into her old routine. Posing in front of the camera, contorting her face into different expressions, her hair beautifully styled with her face dolled up. Hana never liked the job. But given the opportunity to make money, Hana came to the sad realization that she needed a source of income to pay for her education. She needed to pay rent. She needed to sustain herself financially.

When Hana's mother heard about her daughter picking up projects again, the woman was relieved. Hana had just gotten back from a 3 day trip from Seoul. Her birthday was nearing. But all Hana wanted to do was to sleep – jetlag hit her hard after a week.

The model was just about to fall back onto her bed before her door opened to reveal Hana's mother. She took one look at her daughter and was shocked.

"My goodness, look at your dark circles."

No greeting. Not even a welcome back. Hana sighed and put on her glasses. She had no makeup on. She was tired. Her skin showed it, her face showed it. Clearly, her mother took no notice to Hana's lack of energy.

"Hana, I heard you took that Burberry project. Stern wasn't that great, was it? Modelling is more suited to you, anyway." Her mother looked around her room. Suitcases hadn't been unpacked, and Hana sat on her bed in a daze.

"Anyway, a little birdie told me that Chanel was looking for models during Februar—"
"—I can't do that. I have school," she monotonously answered.
"School? You aren't quitting Stern to go back into modelling?"

Hana exhaled. Stay awake. Just a little longer.

"No."

Her mother frowned. "Why not?"
"I need money to pay for tuition. I need to work."

The mother looked at her daughter quizzically. "You haven't been using the family funds?"
"No." Hana wondered when she had ever said yes to her mother.
"Why not? Don't be silly, Hana."

The young woman inhaled and exhaled. A little longer. Be patient.

"Because I want to pay for my education. It is mine. I will not be indebted to father."

The mother shook her head exasperated. "Hana, why are you looking to make your life troublesome? You and your silly desire of going to school when you have a perfectly wonderful career. We have your whole life planned and you throw it away?"

Hana snapped out of her tired state when her mother raised her voice. She straightened her back. It was a rush of adrenaline. Adrenaline and rage.

"I'm not throwing away an opportunity to prove my worth."
"Hana, you don't understand," her mother's tone turned sharp. "You are not the heiress. You can't be the heiress. Why won't you accept this fact?"

Hana stood from her bed and walked over to her vanity. Her hairbrush, various makeup products, skincare, all of the bottles and containers stood organized. Until Hana threw everything onto the ground in a fit of rage. Her mother widened her eyes in shock at the actions of her daughter. She had gone mad. Hana had never been so terrifying.

She was not someone to be ordering around any longer.

She was days away from turning eighteen. She was a legal adult.

"Why the hell not?" Hana shouted. "I'm not some pawn you get to use for your future. I am not here to just uphold your reputation. I deserve the same opportunity to pursue whatever I please. I am not a pretty face. I am more than you have ever thought of me to be."

Hana's mother stood still. Her child had never shouted at her before. Hana had always been obedient. She did what she was told. She was calm and collected. She was raised with manners and class. Hana seethed with anger, in front of her very eyes.

"Hana, sit down," her mother ordered.
"I will not," the daughter gritted her teeth.

"Hana—"
"—Get out," her voice turned back into an eerily calm tone.
"No, please—"
"—Out," Hana pointed towards the door. Her mother did not move.

"Hana," her mother tried again. She reached for her daughter's shoulder.
"No," the girl shook her head and brushed off the slightest touch from her mother. "Enough."
"Hear me out for this—"
"—I've heard enough over the past 18 years. Don't you dare—"

"You have no birthright," Hana's mother cut her off. "You have no shares. You don't get a single cent in this family. You…"

Hana blinked. You have no birthright. "What… what do you mean? I'm the daughter of the family, I still get shares." She was days from being a legal adult. Days away from signing papers from their family lawyer, like Hiro had a year ago. Every daughter, no matter first-born or not, got shares of the company. It was a common thing in their social class. Regardless of whether she was an heir, she was part of the Sawada family.

Her mother averted her gaze. "You aren't the daughter," she quietly said.

You aren't the daughter.

"I'm… what am I, if not the daughter?" she tried making sense of it all. She must have been so tired that she hadn't heard correctly.

"You aren't his daughter," her mother murmured. "He… knew. He'd always known."
"Then what about Hiro?"
"Hiro is legitimate."

Hiro is legitimate.

"I… I'm…"
"Hana, please – like you haven't noticed that you look nothing alike to Hiro."

The mother watched as her daughter slowly sunk to the ground. Her eyes averted, softening from the fury she was in only minutes before. Hana ran a hand through her brown hair, running through the facts. Hana's mother watched as her daughter pieced the puzzle together.

"Then who's my father?"

Silence. The mother avoided the question.

"I've been a good mother by trying to keep you in the family. I gave you the best possible life, and you're throwing it away – refusing your privilege in using the family funds, or continuing with your modelling career, or even thinking of getting married so you can protect our reputat—"
"You had an affair and you dare—"
"—I'm taking responsibility for you, Hana! You think I wanted you to happen?!"

Hana looked up from the ground. As if her heart hadn't shattered into enough pieces. It was a stab in the gut. Nothing like any punch she had taken from her years of boxing. "You never wanted me?"

Her mother shook her head. "No, Hana – the circumstances were—"
"—I understand. I was an inconvenience. A scandal just waiting to be uncovered if you didn't keep it under the wraps for so long."

Sleeping was the last thing she wanted to do at this point. Too many thoughts were running through her mind.

Hana took her backpack from the side of her bed. She had her passport and travel documents still stuck. She wanted to escape.

"Hana, all you have to do is keep quiet," her mother assured after Hana seemed calm enough. The girl was in the middle of picking up all of the bottles that had fallen off of her vanity. Hana refused to look at her mother.

"Nothing changes as long as you pretend you don't know."

Hana nodded. Her mother patted her daughter on the back before leaving. She heard the door close.

Don't you fucking cry, she thought to herself.

Hana couldn't help it. She had to go.

I'm borrowing your car. She texted Hiro. And that was that. She was gone from the mansion, off the face of earth for who knew how long.

Sawada-san knew that his granddaughter was coming back. He didn't know when but often she'd call before coming around. It was a regular Saturday afternoon, and he was having tea with Takashi. When they had finished with their usual meal, the young man offered to clean up the kitchen while Sawada-san got the knock on the door.

He didn't expect to see his granddaughter waiting on the porch after so many months. She had aged. She was no longer the same girl he raised. The look in her eyes told him everything. The bright eyes had suddenly turned jaded. She lost weight, her face had thinned. She had a look of anger on her face.

"Hana," he calmly greeted. "Come inside, at least." The wind howled outside. Her hair blew in the wind. But Hana refused to move. She stood stiffly in the cold, glaring daggers at who she believed to be her grandfather.

"You knew," Hana seethed. "You knew I wasn't your granddaughter."
"Who said you weren't my granddaughter?" The grandfather shouted with the exact same volume. "You are my granddaughter. Nobody can tell me otherwise."

Hana shook her head. "You knew and yet you raised me. Why?" Tears welled up. No. Not now. Not in front of him. Not in front of the man who taught you never to cry, especially in front of your enemy. "You pitied me, didn't you?"

"Hana, calm—"
"—I can't calm down. I can't think straight, no matter how much I try. Father knew I wasn't his. You're my father's father. You must have known too."

"I did," Sawada-san wasn't the kind of man to lie. He looked straight into her eyes. He knew that she refused to cry. He watched as she fought against herself. That was how he raised her. "I knew exactly what you were."
"Then why?"
"Because you were innocent, child. You had no part in the misfortunes that you were brought into. You deserved a fighting chance."

Hana sniffed. She refused to let the tears fall by taking deep breaths. Just breathe. "I deserved the truth."
"And you got it," her grandfather pointed out. She had to find out somehow, someday. Today seemed to be that day.

The granddaughter shook her head. Sawada-san watched as his granddaughter turned her back towards him, her back crouched as she tried to hug herself to keep herself warm in the midst of winter. She quickly got into the car and drove away.

Mori casted himself out of the shadows, watching behind the shoulder of Sawada-san. He had heard the whole thing. It was hard to ignore a conversation filled with yelling. The elder grunted.

"I knew this day would come," he mumbled. Sawada-san was fully aware of Mori's presence behind him. It wasn't part of the plan to have him witness the whole thing, but the elder couldn't turn back time. Takashi had been close to the Sawadas regardless. The boy knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"It was fucking ticking time bomb that I had no idea how to detonate. It was my fault."

Mori patted the shoulder of the elder. "No," he assured. "You did what you could."

"Her birthday is in two days," Sawada-san remembered. "Of all the times…" He shook his head. Such unfortunate timing.
"Will she be alright?" Mori asked with concern in his voice.

Sawada-san looked at the young man. "I didn't raise her to be reckless. But this… I don't know. She's always been a wildcard, even on the mat."

Takashi nodded. He knew how she fought. But Hana never fought recklessly. Except for that one time she punched a wall, he remembered. But she while she was clear-headed, her strategies never failed to impress. The elder motioned for him to come over to the kitchen.

"There's a villa up in the mountains," Sawada-san said. "Hana goes there often."
"I know," Mori admitted, much to the elder's surprise. Before the grandfather got any wrong idea, Takashi was quick to clarify that Hiro often invited his friends over during the summers and Hana happened to be there.

"Are you busy, Takashi?" the elder relented. His tone weary, on the verge of apprehension.
"No," Mori replied. It was winter break after all. Honey had spent the past few days sleeping and eating, getting some much needed rest after another term of engineering. 30 hours of class each week for 4 months straight took a toll on his body.

"Do you mind heading up to the villa then, Takashi? Just bring her some food and you can get home in time for dinner. It shouldn't take long. I doubt there's anything left up there. She probably hasn't been eating well. She's lost weight, and she's exhausted," Sawada explained while pulling a few leftovers from the fridge. He wrapped it up in bags, hoping that it was enough to last at least a few days.

Takashi nodded. "Of course."

Hana drove up to the wilderness. The further she drove, the more snow she came across. Roads turned from being wet, to slush, and Hana only prayed that the roads weren't going to be icy. Roads began to swerve as she began driving up the mountain. It was her first time driving up to the villa on her own. She usually had her chauffer, but not today.

At heart, Hana had always been an adrenaline junkie. Exploring the woods in the middle of winter, craving to find secret scenic views. She often dreamed of climbing dangerous mountains, paragliding over beautiful cities, or just escaping from the ground.

Driving dangerously however, was not usually on her list of thrills. The road conditions gave her a good distraction from the thoughts that ran through her mind while she navigated her way around. She was quickly losing daylight, being winter after all.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she found the familiar off-road that led to the quaint property hidden in the mountains. The sky had traces of grey clouds, blending in with the deep red and oranges. The sun was setting and the wind was in no mood to give her a break. Hana quickly gathered her belongings and made herself home in the villa.

It was still freezing.

Hana started turned on the heating before walking over to the fireplace. No firewood. It was quickly turning dark and Hana had no choice to brave the cold if she wanted to get firewood. She put on her jacket and opened the door to find Mori standing the cold with a thin windbreaker, hands full with bags and his regular backpack across one shoulder. His messy hair blew in the wind as his eyes widened in shock for just a split second.

Hana looked past him, noticing the back end of their family car exiting out of the property. He was stuck here.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Hana couldn't decide if she was angry at his company or worried for him standing in the cold with barely anything to insulate his body. He stood silent and was unsure how to piece his sentence together.

He cleared his throat. "I brought you food." It was true, technically.

Hana narrowed her eyes. "He sent you, didn't he?" She threw her hands up in the air in frustration and stared into the woods. "Fuck," she cursed aloud. "God damn it."

Mori watched as she yelled out a string of curse words into the woods before calming down. She had her gloves on, with knee-high winter boots and a grey parka. Her hair was messily tied back into a bun, showing off her ears that were turning red from the wind.

"Go inside, Takashi," she ordered. Her red mittens pointed towards the door and took away from her angry voice. "It's fucking cold and taking care of a sick person is the last thing on my mind."

Mori did as told and went into the villa. He took off his running shoes and realized how underdressed he was for the weather. He began reheating the leftovers given that it was nearly 6:30 at night. He put aside any extra food back in the fridge. Takashi wondered why her angry tone sounded oddly familiar. He wasn't bothered by the crude nature of her words, in fact he was more curious as to why it didn't faze him.

And then it hit him.

She sounded exactly like Sawada-san. Mori inwardly chuckled to himself.

He heard grunting outdoors, along with the sound of constant banging. He looked through the window to find Hana chopping firewood by herself, struggling to pull the axe out of the wood. She pulled while using her feet to push, though it only resulted in her falling backwards.

The girl got right back up, refusing to lose. She was angry. She was terrifying at a glance if you didn't know her. Hana had such fire in her, Mori figured it was probably best that he didn't approach her with an axe in hand. He quietly went back to the kitchen, calling Sawada-san to let him know that he arrived safely and that Hana was out chopping firewood.

Ha, she can't chop firewood. The last time I tried teaching her was when she was twelve and it left her so frustrated, her grandfather smiled at the memory. He paused. Take care of her, Takashi.

He answered with an affirmative noise before hanging up.

Hana walked into the home just in time, filled with firewood in her hands. She was covered in snow but her expression was determined. She dropped a couple pieces, before putting it all down so she could take off her winter gear. Mori quickly walked over to help with the heavy lifting, moving the chopped wood over to the fireplace.

No words were needed as they got the fireplace running in no time.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," Hana grumbled. She took some time to think outdoors, on her own while letting out her frustrations. "I wasn't expecting company." Mori gave a small smile. That was the Hana he remembered, but she looked exhausted. He gently guided her to the kitchen, back to the food that he prepared.

They ate in silence. Mori offered to clean up, but Hana glared at him and told him that he was the guest. She tiredly got up from her seat, slowly gathering the dishes into the sink. But Mori beat her to turning on the tap and occupying the space in front of the sink. He tilted his head over to the fireplace, as if to tell her to go over there to wait for just a bit. Hana patted his arm out of appreciation and took his offer.

Mori came around with two cups of hot chocolate and sat comfortably on the ground with the sofa used as their back rest. Hana reached over to drape a blanket over their crossed legs. She thanked him for the cup and they both stared into the flames for a long while. The fire was mesmerizing, and the warmth kept them close by.

"You heard it, didn't you?" she realized. Mori wouldn't have come to visit her if he hadn't known what had happened. The young man nodded when she turned to look at him. Her large doe eyes turned jaded. There was no longer that glint of curiosity he remembered seeing. She fell back into a daze, only this time she looked lifeless and pale. Hana looked down at her fingers as she rhythmically tapped the edge of her green cup.

"Remember that one text… where you told me one's perception of reality may not be reality at all?" Hana's voice barely turned into a whisper. She was so tired. Physically, emotionally, it was taking a toll on her.

"I get it," Hana declared, in a quiet voice. "How one's perception of reality may not be reality at all. I feel like I've lived a lie. What I thought I knew… was really nothing at all. I knew nothing of the world."

She took a sip of her hot cocoa. "I've been naïve my entire life. I've been so sheltered… I hadn't even come across the idea that Hiro and I weren't related. I mean… how could I not have seen it all these years?"

"Because he's your brother," Mori answered. "He loved you unconditionally, it didn't matter to him."
"Seems like love makes you blind," Hana murmured. "Blind to rationale."

Takashi observed her closely. She looked like she was half-asleep, though each time he thought she would close her eyes, she would come across another thought. He shifted closer to her, careful to keep her from dropping her own cup or damaging anything because of her fatigue.

"All these years… imagine what he must have felt."
"Who?" he asked.
"My…" she paused. There was no other word for it. "Father."

Mori saw her look away from the flames, and into the darkness. "He must have been so betrayed," she thought. Of all times, Hana still thought of others in the midst of her own crisis.

"I can't blame him. I can't blame anyone," Hana took another sip of her drink. "But I… I still feel cheated. My chest is heavy. My heart is tired. My brain refuses to stop thinking. Takashi, I wish I knew what to do. But I'm at a roadblock. Do I pretend I do not know? Do I continue life, bearing the Sawada name when it isn't mine to keep?"

Hana buried her head into her palms. He reached out to her in comfort. It only felt natural that his arm was over her shoulder as he rubbed her back.

"Only you can define who you are. A name means nothing if you don't give it any meaning."

The girl breathed in deeply. She nodded, taking in his words one by one. Takashi reached over to adjust the blanket over her legs, making sure that she was kept warm. She seemed so frail, and so delicate under his arm. He was afraid she would break apart.

But Hana didn't cry. Mori almost wished that she would cry so that he would know that she was processing her emotions. But she didn't. Hana was fighting an internal battle that Mori had no part of. The most he could do was to stay.

He stayed with her through the night, tending the fire until she fell asleep on his shoulder in the wee hours of the night.

Tears silently fell down her cheek as she fell asleep. As he wiped them away, he could only sigh.

Blind to rationale.

He should have let her sleep on the sofa. But the weight of her body against his felt like she fit perfectly. He couldn't let her go.

He didn't want to let go. If he did, she would be gone in no time. She would continue on with her orbit, and he would have to wait patiently, wondering if she would ever come back.

And just once, Takashi wanted to be selfish. Keeping her beside him. Having her turn to him in the darkest of times.

He wanted to be her light.

A/N: I've placed hints about Hana's lineage through her appearance a couple chapters back. But I mean, hints were kinda strewn everywhere so I wondered if anyone found that odd, haha. I've posted this up hastily because I'm off to go somewhere so I apologise in advance for any mistakes. Anyway, thanks again for reading. I appreciate all of you, and your wonderful reviews.