Chapter 30
Hiro spoke with his sister every few weeks. Juilliard had him working harder than ever, on projects that he loved through and through. It was an incredible feeling to be immersed in your passion – learning from the best of the best and from peers who shared the same passion as he did for music. He never failed to mention this each time they spoke.
"I didn't think I would ever love school this much, you know?" Hiro told his sister excitedly about a class he was taking.
Hana made it early to her office, it was a little past 7:30 in the morning. She was the first at work, as usual. Her diligence was never questioned, and Hana made it such that it would be kept that way.
"I'm glad," Hana responded to her brother as she typed away on her desktop. It was a typical conversation that they always had. Her inbox piled up quickly. She had two meetings scheduled today.
"I saw you in that magazine," Hiro kept up with the whereabouts of his sister quite well. Hana was always the one who was underestimated, and now she was finally taking the world by storm. He was proud of how far she had come. "Top 10 Women to Look Out For in the Business World," he quoted.
"Oh," Hana almost forgot about that interview. It was done a couple months ago and only now did the issue come out. Hana thought it would have been good PR for herself, and the company. "Thank the Twins for that one. They pulled some strings to get me featured."
"Psh," the big brother scoffed. "Hana, even if the Twins had pulled some strings to get you featured, the magazine didn't have to put you on the cover."
She sighed. Hana was unaware of that executive decision. The magazine and the journalist came to visit her office to take a few photos and to interview her – but it was far from the regular photoshoots that she had experienced when she worked as a professional model. The cover had her looking at the camera with her nude lips parted, arms comfortably crossed over her chest, and her eyes focused at the lens.
"Damn, you looked fierce," Hiro reminded her sister. "Like you could rip someone apart."
"That's what I felt like that day," she muttered. Or any day, really.
"Hana Sawada, one of the most humble industry leaders at the ripe age of 23, works at—"
"Stop," Hana groaned. "Don't read it. "
Hana herself hadn't even read the article.
"It's well-written and a great reflection of your character. Mother will be very happy about this being great PR for the family, and I guess, the Ootoris will too. Say, how's Kyo—"
"—As egoistic as you remembered him to be," the sister grumbled. "But useful," she had to admit.
"So what's going on? Like, is there a threesome situati—"
"No, Hiro," Hana deadpanned. "Nothing of that sort. Why do you always assume the most lewd things…"
"Relax, I'm joking – gosh, Hana, you're such a prude," the brother teased. "Listen, if I had two men pining after me, I'd be—"
"They aren't pining after me," she corrected. "Kyouya and I are strictly business partners."
"So you and Mori are…"
"Not… business partners," Hana liked to avoid the topic.
"Hana – I'm your big brother. I tell you almost everything," he whined. "I want to know about your life too!" Granted, Hiro was aware of how much pressure Hana was under. Tackling the company and upholding the family honour was certainly not a job made for him.
"I met his mother the other day," Hana blurted out. She was still feeling awkward about the whole situation – a part of her wished that she could relive the moment again so that she could seem like a normal human being and not a terrified animal cowering behind Takashi.
It took a moment before Hiro processed the sentence to cheer on the other line. "It's about time!" Hiro groaned. "How many years has it been since you two were together?"
"No, the thing is – it was accidental, it totally blindsided me," Hana groaned. "It was awkward and—"
"—And I'm sure it was fine," Hiro reassured. "You're one hell of a catch. Well educated, very successful, a great family backg—"
"And that's what every other rich family in our social circle wants," Hana interrupted. "The Morinozukas are…"
"No different," Hiro answered. "They may not mingle amongst the families like ours, but the standards are the same. Hell, we were all Ouran educated. Think about it, Hana."
Hana still felt uneasy. Perhaps it was because on paper, she was perfect. But Hana knew that she was nothing like what others viewed her as. Successful? No, she was privileged. Pretty? She was only blessed with a good pool of genes that the majority of society considered to be good looking. Intelligent? Far from it. Hana did not have a knack for numbers, she was privately tutored and trained from a young age.
"I don't think their family is that simple," she sighed.
"As if our family is?" Hiro laughed at the irony of her statement.
"I mean, the rich have a cookie-cutter standard. I fit that because I have been raised like that. We all have."
"Not me," the brother grinned. "I'm the worst nightmare."
"You could be worse," Hana pointed out.
"Party-animal turned Julliard-educated musician? I mean, I guess so. Except I'm also gay. So… that's a hard one to bury."
Hana laughed. "Are you coming home soon?" She switched the topic and closed the window on her desktop. Hana leaned back onto her office chair and made the genuine effort to listen to her brother, as a little sister should.
"Ah yes. A Japanese director asked if I could score the soundtrack to his sci-fi movie. Pretty cool, eh? He said he's heard some of my EDM stuff. Best part is that I can come home to do it so I can catch up with the rest of my friends."
"What about Richard?" Hana pried. He was a saxophonist that Hiro was dating for god knew how long. Hana didn't keep up with her brother as much as he did with her. She felt guilty.
"We broke up, like 6 months ago, Hana," Hiro answered factually. "Gosh, it took you half a year to ask about him. How out of touch are you?"
"Very," Hana admitted. "I'm sorry, Hiro. But are you doing okay?"
The older brother sighed. "To be honest… it sucked, a lot. But I didn't want to mention it because I knew you were busy."
As if Hana couldn't have felt even more guilty even if she tried. Her older brother tried his very best to keep in touch with her and she couldn't even repay the favour.
"I'm glad to hear that you're doing well though," Hiro brightened up. "You deserve to be happy, Hana."
"You too," she murmured. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For being a terrible sister."
Hiro laughed at how silly she was. They had been through this countless times.
"Hana, you're the greatest sister anyone could ask for – I'll always be indebted to you."
"You aren't," Hana reminded him. She put herself in this position. It was always her decision.
"Yeah yeah, whatever. Stop taking the damn high road. I know what you've done for me. I love you, okay?" Hiro brushed her off.
"I know, me too."
The feelings were mutual. They were the kind of corny siblings that people likely found annoying. But they never fought. They never went through phases of being annoyed at each other. Hiro loved his sister from the moment he laid eyes on her – a sudden instinct to protect this new life. Hana, in return, had always looked up to her brother. Their childhood memories consisted of chasing each other through gardens, hiding around the mansion, and celebrating their birthdays together until they both grew into their own lives.
They were two different people.
But there were times where they were all each other had.
Mori never expected his mother to come visit him twice in a week. She was always busy running their real estate developments, all of which, Mori had no business of. He was lucky enough to have a mother who was happy to see her son satisfied with whatever path he took. The business was just a backup plan, a sort of safety net for her son. They were financially stable for the next few decades, given the amount of properties they owned.
"Okaa-san," he greeted his mother at the doorway of his office. He shared his cubicle with other graduate students, and was certainly not worthy of having his own separate room, at least not yet.
His mother smiled up at him. She dressed modestly, nothing too flashy – no jewelry, nor any makeup. Her hair was in a bun, her hands wrapped together from the cold outdoor winds. Her wrinkles were becoming more prominent over the years – but her smile was ageless.
The mother and son went out for a meal, a rare occasion nowadays. They ate in silence, as they usually had. Takashi had never been the kind of child to make conversation.
"Hana Sawada… she isn't just a financial analyst, is she?"
Mori looked up from his bowl of rice. His mother looked at him with curious eyes, her tone careful. She was trying to read her son's expression. Mori cleared his throat.
"What is it?" Takashi was unsure of what his mother was trying to get at.
"Hana Sawada is the heiress to the Sawada Corporation. Surely, you knew about this?"
Mori nodded. "Of course."
The elder woman pulled out a magazine from her bag, still crisp and fresh from being read once. Hana was on the cover. Mori raised his eyebrows, a bit surprised that Hana had never mentioned that she was featured or interviewed over the past few months. But of course, Takashi was proud to see her on the cover for a magazine that didn't just flaunt her beauty – but for her abilities. He made a mental note to bring it over to Sawada-san. He would appreciate seeing his granddaughter on the cover.
"She is a very impressive young woman," his mother murmured.
"Yes," Takashi agreed.
"Do you think… you can handle that?"
Takashi put his chopsticks down and tilted his head. What did his mother mean?
"We are a humble family," she explained. "I am afraid that Hana… may not be accustomed to how we live – just simply. We still have traditions to uphold through generations, with the Haninozukas."
"She isn't like that," Takashi reassured his mother. "Hana was raised by her grandfather."
His mother was still skeptic. "She will still be surrounded by the upper class, especially after she inherits the company. Are you prepared for that, Takashi?"
Takashi shrugged.
"Have you thought about a future with someone like her?"
He thought of it. He imagined a simple life. As he always had.
"Do you think she… will be satisfied?
He had slowly assumed that Hana would be – just genuinely happy, at the very least. But it still made him uneasy.
"I hope so," was all Takashi could say.
His mother pursed her lips and nodded. Who was she to meddle in her son's business, after all? He was an adult now. Takashi had been independent for years, while still taking care of his elders and keeping in touch with Honey. All she could ask was for her son to be happy.
"Do you think you will have a place, Takashi?"
"A place?"
The Morinozukas never had any intention of mingling with the upper class – grounded to their traditionalist values, the extravagance was of no interest to the family. Takashi had never dealt with the kind of politics that Hana did on a daily basis. There were nuances to be learned, a language of the upper class that Takashi had no experience with.
To his mother, Hana was the polar opposite of her son. She was embroiled in the life of luxury. Her son was raised simply. They were what they considered to be middle-class, while Hana was above their class by eons.
"You will be expected to fulfill… expectations, Takashi," his mother was only concerned for his well-being.
Takashi nodded. This was the reality that he chose. He never thought about it – or rather, he never really wanted to think about it. He just… trusted that it would fall into place. They somehow, found each other after so many years. His naïve self had this unspoken expectation that no matter what, he trusted that she would make things work.
How it would work – he never thought about. The logistics had always been taken care of by Hana. He, on the other hand, was lucky enough to be able to sit back and watch her grow, and develop into the warrior that she had always been.
For the longest time, it always felt like a dream – just being with her. Being with the stars and the sun, floating above the clouds without a worry.
Now it felt like he was plummeting to the ground – to where he belonged after all this time.
He mulled over it for the rest of the week. And the week after. It ate away at him. Whenever he had a quick second to settle down, his mind couldn't stop but to wonder.
Do you think she will be satisfied?
Do you think you will have a place, Takashi?
And in all honesty, Takashi couldn't see himself with the upper class. Not the same way that his friends were. He could see her mingling amongst the crowds. With that polite smile of hers before turning away to look at the flowers, the windows, the meagre things to take her mind off of the lies that she had to tell. He could imagine her days with sullen eyes, her body tired, and her mind exhausted from the pretending. She was always irritated after work – and he could have only imagined the stress she put herself through.
But he could, at the end of the day, imagine her living without him. A soft nudge on his shoulder brought him back to reality.
"What's wrong?" she murmured. Her soft fingers ran through his hair as she looked up at him. He was obviously distracted while he was marking these essays and she'd been watching him from the corner of her eye while she typed away on a report.
She buried her face in his neck, her cold nose tracing the creases of his collarbone. Mori put down his pen and papers to the side and slid his arm around her shoulder. She wore that grey jumper that always made him wonder if she was cold. It always seemed too thin for the frigid temperatures they experienced outdoors while walking the dog.
"What's your plan?" he asked. No strings attached. No beating around the bush. He wasn't looking for vague answers. Hana's head rested on his shoulder.
"What do you mean?" she mindlessly intertwined her fingers with the hand that draped over her shoulder. Her fingers were thin, her skin dry from the cold wind. Mori grazed his thumb over her hand, like he always had. He had memorized the grooves of her knuckles, the callouses that she developed from boxing, the gracefully shaped nails she kept short.
"How will you… walk away from all of this?"
He felt her fingers tense, and in return – he held onto her hand firmly to tell her that he was here to stay. She lifted her head from his shoulder and adjusted herself so that his arm was no longer around her neck. Hana faced him because this…
This was something she wanted to avoid and he of course, was the person to bring it up. Takashi was not stupid, after all. Bliss was never meant to last.
He never let go of her hand. She gave his palm a gentle squeeze before shaking her head.
"I don't know." Hana had to be honest.
"What do you mean?" his tone gentle. He never pried. He never pressured her. He was open to her thoughts, as always.
She gulped down the knot growing in her throat. She was ready for this conversation. It wasn't as though she hadn't ever thought of Mori never catching onto everything.
"I've been trapped… and I've known this since Kyouya and I started our partnership. I was buying time. But time is running out," Hana admitted. "As soon as he gets that company – I'll be of no use."
She shook her head. "The truth is, I don't know what I'm doing – or what I will do. But… I've accepted that whatever is to come won't be good and I'll just have to… fight."
"No?" His heart leaped. She had always been raised to be fierce. It was beautiful to have her sink into that persona comfortably. Hana returned the crooked smile that sat atop his lips.
"No matter how many waves come to drown me, no matter how strong the winds blow, or whatever element the universe chooses to test me with: you're… you're my rock. I can swim to you. Run to you. Crawl to you."
Her grip grew stronger, her eyes fiercer – he recognized that look. He fought against those eyes on the mat; he'd seen those orbs at the tipping point between her advantage and his on the mat. Those were the eyes that he always lost to.
Hana had faith in what they had. What they had built. What had formed over a decade of friendship. She wasn't going to lose it.
"I don't like how much I depend on you," she laughed to herself before looking away– as if trying to brighten the mood. "I know how silly it is. But the world is cruel – and I know none of this will end well. I wasn't ever destined for this kind of… happy ending or bullshit that they feed you when you're young. But I'll take whatever I can get. I'm only afraid of losing you." She shrugged off her speech like it was a casual passing thought.
Takashi tugged onto her hand as if asking her to look at him. She lifted her eyes from the ground to lock with his.
"You deserve happiness just as much as anyone else," Mori told her. It was the truth. He always wondered why she didn't think so.
Hana shrugged. "I don't know. When you're raised with privilege, sometimes I wonder if I'm asking for too much when I have been given too much to begin with."
"What is too much?"
She smiled. "Being… normal, I guess."
"Normal?"
"None of this," Hana gestured vaguely with her hands. "None of these… high-class politics to play. Or honour to uphold. No more lies to live, and people to please. I just… want to breathe, Takashi. I want to live. I want to be free."
"You don't think you deserve freedom?"
Hana blinked and thought about it. The idea of being able to live freely. Whatever that entailed.
"I don't think I do," Hana quietly whispered. "I did this to myself, after all. I was so prideful that I thought this would be a chance to prove myself. How naïve, isn't it? I only propelled myself into this cycle of self-doubt, this perpetual state of anxiety about my next move. I suppose I underestimated my opponent."
"Who's your opponent?" he murmured.
Hana gave a coy smile.
"Reality," she answered, almost afraid. There was never any winning against reality. That was a fact.
"Reality," Mori repeated, slowly letting the word roll down his tongue. "Will I be a part of your reality then, Hana?"
Hana locked eyes with him. She was so tired. Beaten and emotionally bruised, she didn't have the time to heal nor bounce back. It was a gruelling fight to live on some days. Most days, she was numb. But with him, it was a temporary relief.
"Only if you let me," Hana whispered, her voice croaking. She knew how unfair it was, for him. To have him wait patiently, to have him watch her try to meddle her way out of this complex web. She refused to pull him into it, but she was trapped in a position where she wasn't sure if she would ever get out. Destined to be the heiress, to be pulled into some awkward arrangement between families to uphold the honour, to follow the cookie-cutter path that she was always set out to carry.
Takashi sighed softly.
"Hana, you should fight for your own happiness," he reminded. She used to always claim that she was selfish, when she wasn't – not at all. Mori had known her since childhood. She was always the first to apologize with her eyes, for the bruises that she caused. Hana was the kind of person who had always believed in the good. Good people, kind souls, bettering society in ways that she could.
But life slowly eroded her down, carving way for the realist that she was forced to become. Mediocre, at best – was what she was. Society had expectations of her that she was unable to shake off.
"My happiness is…" she trailed off, unsure what to think about her happiness. "I'm just trying to do the right thing. I don't hate my family, I just—I…" she was at a loss of words.
Her parents were not her parents – not in the traditional sense. But they provided for her – and she was unable to repay the debt of the privilege that was bestowed upon her. It drove her into an ocean of guilt, the thought of walking away and leaving those who brought her into the world in the dust.
Hana was raised better than that. She had values to uphold for the family. For as long as her name was Sawada, there was a void that had to be filled. Hiro was not going to do it. It was either her or him.
She chose herself.
It was her choice.
It was for the greater good.
Or so she had thought.
Hana had to grow up. After all these years of running away, years of thinking she was allowed to be selfish. Of course she could be – but at the expense of her conscience. She was raised with values that she could not shake off. Values of honour, dignity, and respect. Traditions had to be respected, even if she didn't like to think so.
Hana looked up from their intertwined fingers meeting his gaze. If she knew him well enough, Hana almost sensed fear.
"I know I… can be burdensome," Hana turned away. "And… you don't have to bear it," she reminded him. "I understand." He was after all, too good to be true to her. She wanted to be that person – his person. If she could give an ounce of what he gave her, of how he made her feel every time – she would. Hana knew she could not give as much as she received. His patience, his comfort, the quiet strength that he gave her.
He shook his head and tilted her head towards him.
"You can't keep telling me to leave if you want me to stay," Takashi was calm but the weight of his words fell on his shoulders. Hana could see that he hurt, just as much as she did at the thought of not being intertwined with each other. She was being hypocritical, of course – and he was not afraid to point that out.
"We fight," Takashi whispered. "Together."
That was all he could do. He would never leave her until she wanted him to. She could put up a front, and of course, Takashi had no doubt that she would survive without him. But she didn't have to.
And for the first time, it didn't feel like he never deserved her to begin with. She needed him – no, deserved to have him by her side even if she didn't feel that way. He would never live up to the standards that her family would expect of him as a partner to Hana. But that did not matter.
For so long, he felt like he would never be good enough. Takashi knew, from the very beginning, that he would never quite fit with the upper class. With his mediocrity, his lack of sociability, and his entire lack of interest in climbing the social ladder. It was enough to be associated with the upper class, having friends be a part of it all.
It was no surprise to Takashi when his mother expressed her concern about Hana; after all, it was her choice to not assimilate her son into the culture of high society. Higher education, of course – but placing her son in the land of heirs and socialites? The Morinozukas would not stoop to that level.
But for her, perhaps he would. He would have to. And for Takashi – that was alright. She was not obligated to come down to his level, when he could rise to hers.
"Do not fight someone else's battles," Hana pulled him out of his thoughts as if she could read his mind. "Mine are not yours to fight. Stay. Let me heal. Let me recuperate. Remind me of why I am fighting against reality. Remind me that I am allowed to pave my own path, my own future, my own life."
Hana buried herself in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath. Her shoulders moved in sync with her breathing as his arm firmly was set around her waist.
"You are doing more than I can ask for," she told him. "How will I ever do the same for you?"
He held her tightly while her arms snaked around his neck. She climbed over his legs, careful to push away the essays to his side. Hana looked up at him, dead in the eyes. She was sorry and she didn't have to say it for him to see it.
"Let me in," he answered her. "You cannot suffer alone like this."
Her eyes welled up. She blinked away her tears and quickly tried to control herself. There was a lump in her throat as her nose began sniffling. This was what it meant to be vulnerable. To let herself go, even if it was a brief moment. He was allowed to see her cry, her fears, her worst possible state.
It made his stomach wrench. She knew it too by the way he looked at her, the way his eyes softened. His pursed lips that turned into a small frown. It gave him no pleasure to see her like this – but it was relieving.
"I," her voice cracked. "Usually cry in the shower," she confessed. "Sometimes I don't even realize it until I come out and I can taste the tears. Between the stress at work and thinking about Ojii-san, and who knows what is in store for the future – I can't help it. I'm falling apart."
Takashi nodded.
"You are human, are you not?" She was allowed to cry, even if she didn't think so.
Hana let out a chuckle, which sounded more like a cough as she tried to get rid of the lump in her throat.
"I thought I was your sun," her mouth twisted upwards in a grin. She had always wanted to be his sun, even if she claimed that she was not. "Guess I'm human after all?" Her eyes averted away from him. She was just human. She was another vulnerable person, like any one else. She was mediocre, never quite destined for greatness. And perhaps, that was alright.
Takashi shook his head and met her lips. He didn't have to tell her that she meant more than a metaphorical sun to him. Irreplaceable. Essential to life. She was everything he had always wanted, and he hadn't even had a clue about it until a few years ago.
She responded hesitantly, as if trying to understand what he meant.
I don't care about the sun. The moon. The stars. You're everything to me.
"Oi, pass me your omamori," Sawada-san grumbled early in the morning. Hana was in the midst of chowing down her morning fruit bowl before she scampered off to the morning train. The granddaughter eyed her grandfather suspiciously.
"It's already past the New Year," the elder scoffed. "I have to replace your omamori."
The granddaughter frowned. "It's icy outside. I've always had bad luck anyway," Hana shrugged. "No need to replace it. Stay home, Ojii-san. Don't pretend I haven't seen you limp around the house lately – use the cane."
"I do not need a cane to walk in my house!" he barked. Hana didn't bat an eye – it was too early in the morning to argue about this. "You think I'm some kind of degenerate already, Hana?!"
The granddaughter sighed. "It's icy outside," she repeated. "I can't afford to have you break a leg or fall. Stay home," she ordered. The limp got worse over the months. His tremors were more noticeable. Hana refused to let him cook without her in the kitchen these past few weeks.
The grandfather limped his way over to the living room, where Hana had her work bag sitting on the ground by the entryway.
"Whatever," the man grumbled to himself. "The omamori wasn't for luck, it was en-musubi, something that should have gotten her married by now. The damn priest lied to me…"
"What was that?" Hana called from the kitchen. She finished washing the dishes. It was 6:23 AM. She shuffled over to the room where her grandfather was in, sliding over the door to catch him dumping out the contents of her purse.
"Ojii-san!" Hana shouted. "My laptop is in there!"
"Psh, you can afford a new one with all of that fancy money you're making," the elder brushed off.
"I don't spend money recklessly!" the granddaughter replied, exasperated by how stubborn her grandfather was. It was too early for this.
He tossed through her makeup bag, her laptop case, and her wallet. There were a few miscellaneous receipts, a couple pens, and a stack of band-aids before finally finding the wooden tag covered in royal blue silk that he had gotten for her the year prior. Every year, he ventured to his regular Shinto shrine, only a train away in the countryside. It was always a quiet journey, with Kaiina following him. While Hana was studying throughout university and high school, Sawada-san made sure to bring back gakugyo-joju, in addition to the kaieun that would grant her luck.
It sure did, given that Hana was always a star student. Heck, even the damn dog got an omamori for protection.
His granddaughter shook her head and rolled her eyes at the elder. "This is silly, Ojii-san. I don't need a little silk pouch to grant me luck. Just stay home!"
"You can't tell me what to do!" he scolded.
Hana groaned. "Come back before sunset! I will call you at my lunch hour. Don't do anything stupid, okay? Go to a nearby shrine. Get the damn things, and come home!"
"Geez, Hana – aren't you going to be late for work?"
Hana was in the midst of gathering her things back into her bag before she checked the time on her phone. It was already past 6:30 in the morning.
"Shit," the granddaughter scrambled to get herself out the door. "Don't do anything dangerous, Ojii-san!" she called out to him before putting on her boots to catch the train to work.
Sure enough, there were four missed calls when Hana came out of her meetings at 1 PM. One voice message. Hana took a deep breath. Don't jump to conclusions, she told herself. She immediately called the number of her grandfather's cellphone. It was a bulky Motorola flip phone which he had refused to upgrade from. He claimed that all the fancy features of a regular phone was a waste of money.
A stranger picked up.
"Hello?"
Hana cleared her throat. She really should have listened to the voice message but Hana had no patience to dial in and have an automated machine walk her through the steps.
"This is Takashi Sawada's granddaughter calling," Hana kept her voice neutral.
"Ah, ah yes!" the voice on the other line spoke up. "Your grandfather was admitted to the ER for a fractured ankle a couple hours ago. I am the nurse."
Hana sighed.
"We are looking at some of his test results but he refuses to give us any of his medical history. His bones are brittle from old age, but it seems like he may also suffer from a motor dysfunction?"
The granddaughter took a deep breath.
"Tumour," she gritted out. "He had a tumour in his brain a decade ago."
The line was silent for a minute.
"You should come as soon as you can," the nurse replied. Sure enough, more tests were going to be ordered. Everything would turn into a frenzy. Everything that her grandfather hated about his illness would begin to occur – the nurses, the doctors, the tests, all of the unnecessary attention. He would hate her for it. But it had to be done.
It felt like time had frozen all of the sudden. Her office was bustling with papers and people, but Hana could only stand against the wall of the corridor outside of the meeting room. She couldn't breathe. Her vision became starry. Her rational mind had been put on pause.
All she could think to herself was that this was the beginning of the end. This was it. She could not deny that her grandfather was fine. The tests would prove it. The evidence did not lie. Hana needed to stop avoiding the truth.
"Sawada-san," the voice was muffled to her ears. "Are you alright? You have been standing there for 15 minutes."
She blinked. She tried to process that sentence as quickly as she could.
"Y-yes," Hana replied. "I – I have to go. Excuse me."
No explanation needed. Today was not the kind of day where she would offer any kind of explanation for her absence or for her behaviour. She did not care what her colleagues thought of her as she stumbled her way towards the elevator, bag on her shoulder, jacket half-on as she frantically pressed the elevator button.
When she reached the hospital, Hana was informed that the patient had been transferred to the Ootori Private Hospital. But Kaiina had been left behind, waiting patiently for her owner in the waiting room by the entrance. That could have only meant one thing: the President knew.
Of course he would have known. Given how she left the office in such a frenzy, someone must have informed him. It did not take a lot of brain work to realize that something was wrong. Hana took the dog with her, noting the newly attached omamori on the leash. She let Kaiina settle at home before making her way over to the Ootori hospital.
It was already the evening. The sun had set. Hana was a ball of anxiety. She could not think straight. She had already tripped twice on her way over, and nearly took the wrong subway line to get to the hospital. The woman confidently walked over to the reception of the hospital and was informed that her grandfather was in the VIP ward. She was not on the list of visitors.
"Call that room," she seethed. Fury was the tip of the iceberg in what she had felt at that moment.
"I am afraid I cannot do that," the nurse told her.
Hana took out her own phone and called Kyouya.
"Get me on that visitor list," she demanded. No greeting. No explanation. Knowing Kyouya, he would have already known about her grandfather being admitted into the VIP ward. The Sawadas were a name that he took note of.
"At what price are you willing to pay?" the Ootori did not do things for free.
"If you had any decency as a human being," Hana was on the verge of punching the man the next time she saw him. "You would not be discussing this."
Kyouya took a minute to weigh the options.
"Very well, then."
The two hung up. Hana stared down the receptionist. Hana's cold glare only escalated when the woman picked up the phone, ignoring the person in front of her completely.
"It seems like an exception has been made," the woman told her factually. "Security will be down shortly to escort you to the room."
Within minutes, two men appeared before her and led her towards the VIP elevator. Hana crossed her arms, her defenses up. She was unsure of what to expect, but she was prepared to fight what ever came her way. The hallway was bustling with nurses, and each door led to what seemed like a hotel suite. Private care was expensive, but it certainly paid for itself.
She knocked on the door to where her grandfather was staying.
"Come in," a gruff voice answered. She could recognize it anywhere. Hana quickly slid the door open and found her grandfather in patient scrubs, laying on a white bed covered in a thick blanket. He was hooked up to machines, his leg was wrapped in bandages, as his face had a scowl.
"This is unnecessary," he rolled his eyes. "I had a fracture in my ankle! What is all of this?!"
Hana breathed a sigh of relief.
"You didn't fucking use the damn cane," the granddaughter shot back. "And you know what all of this is. Had you not gotten hurt, this wouldn't have happened."
It was the old man's turn to roll his eyes. He looked around. "Oi, where did Kaiina go? Did you feed her?"
They had been stuck in the hospital for so long. When Sawada-san was transferred, the dog hadn't come with him. He was worried sick about the damn dog and he couldn't believe himself for it.
"Kaiina is at home," the granddaughter answered. "I fed her before coming here."
"Oh, I got you the omamori!" her grandfather changed the topic. As if everything had been normal. As if they were back at home, and she just came back from work. As if the rhythmic beeping of the EKG hadn't existed in the background, or that the fact that they were in both their most hated place was not true.
"Ojii-san—" Hana was about to tell her grandfather that the omamori was not important before the door slid open again.
"You shouldn't be here."
Hana turned her head to find the President standing at the doorway. His hair was in the midst of greying, his posture as tough as stone, the suit he wore was pristine. The wrinkles on his forehead grew prominent while his eyes narrowed at the unwelcomed guest. They father-daughter duo looked nothing alike.
"You let this happen," the President pointed to the young woman. "You couldn't even take care of the person who—"
"—It isn't her fault," Sawada-san cut in.
"I gave you a chance. I thought that with a watchful eye, it would be alright but—"
Hana did not refute his points. It was her fault for letting her grandfather go. Hana already knew that things were bound to go awry, but she knew she couldn't control the elder. It was a delicate balance between giving him freedom while trying to keep her grandfather safe.
"It was alright," the grandfather grumbled. "You make things so dramatic."
"You're staying here," the President decided.
Hana looked up from the ground and shook her head. "No, he is not. He is coming home." The last thing Ojii-san would have wanted was to stay in the care of all these people, with no freedom to do whatever he wanted. Being trapped in a small room for days on end was his worst nightmare. The elder always had things to do, and it was more than sitting in a bed all day.
"He is going to walk toward his death if we do not put him in palliative care!"
"I do not need palliative care," Sawada-san interjected. "I am old, but not dead yet."
"Exactly," Hana argued for her grandfather. "He is perfectly capable of –"
"—Hana, stop deluding yourself. Who are you to make decisions for this man when you are not family?"
Hana paused. It was an inconvenient truth that always stood in her way. One that she could not deny. But she was tired of being thrown the same punches over and over again, being defenseless against the same tactic that kept guilt-tripping her into feeling like an outsider. She did not belong – she never did.
"And you would call yourself a son when you never call? Or visit?" she kept her voice steady, as much as she could.
"I am busy," the President spat. "I have a company to run. This is why palliative care is the solution. Can't you see?" It made logical sense.
Hana narrowed her eyes in anger. "These are lazy solutions to just get him of your hands. You cannot pass him off like you did with me."
She hit him where it hurt. Hana was no fool to lay docile with the man who had no qualms in taking a stab at where it hurt her the most. The President shook his head at the girl.
"You wouldn't even understand the tip of what I have done for you, you ungrateful b—"
"—That's enough," the eldest Sawada raised his voice. The silence that fell within the room was laced with fury and tension. No one moved. The only sound was the constant beeping of the EKG in the background, a standstill occurred between the father and daughter, complete with Sawada-san caught in the middle.
A/N: I wasn't expecting life to get so busy these past few months. Many apologies for the lack of updates - seems like my internship + online courses have taken a good chunk of my time. I am always thankful to all of you who keep up, despite the sporadic updates. The writing and inspiration never stop; I just wish I had the time to gather my thoughts more often. As usual, your feedback and thoughts are appreciated. Much love to all of you.