scars from the sun: Kyoya "My Wife and Children" Ootori

infinityneverlasts: Tamaki would be 50% thrilled and 50% having a heart attack.

bored411: The two of them are definitely trying to navigate this whole mess. While a shotgun wedding isn't quite what's going to happen, Kosuke's reaction would probably be "I'm not sure...but I'll hear you out."

One morning, Kosuke wakes from another nightmare about "Spike." She'd been going into Hitsuji's room to tuck him into bed and found Spike sitting over him with a big, drooling maw of shark teeth. In the real world, Kosuke trudges to the bathroom to splash cold water in her face. As she does, she realizes she's lost her family ring.

She's contemplated hurling it down a street gutter more than once, so it's not like she misses the stupid thing. Still, someone is bound to notice its absence, and she'll be lucky if it's not Shigeo who sees her without his cattle-brand. Also, it's still worth thousands upon thousands of yen.

She spends a whole day combing the mansion. Every door opened, every cushion turned. The children cross-their-hearts-and-hope-to-die that they haven't seen or taken it.

Kosuke is on her hands and knees under the children's beds when she has a light bulb moment. She can remember the ring well enough. She can just have Kyoya go to a jeweler and make another one.

She texts Kyoya about it. He confirms that he also couldn't care less about the thing but will gladly have a jeweler duplicate it, and that's that.

The same night, when Miyuri rushes into the room to announce a visitor, Kosuke never guesses that the ring would have something to do with it.

Excusing herself, Kosuke crawls out from the blankets-and-pillows castle she and the children had been making (they're still blueprinting the three ballrooms, giant pool, and indoor zoo) and hurries to her unknown guest.

"Oh, Kosuke, dearest!" Jin beckons her to keep coming, like Kosuke should be sprinting. She's wrapped in a shawl that makes her look like a blooming flower. Her ruby stud earrings are oddly tame for her. "Here, here."

"Hello, Ms. Jin." Kosuke tries to sound pleasantly surprised, but it comes out just...surprised. "Is something wrong?"

"Mom, dear, call me Mom."

Jin holds out her hand. Sitting in her palm, a pearl in an oyster, is Kosuke's ring.

"It was upstairs, at my home," Jin fervently explains as Kosuke takes the ring. "It was next to the bathroom sink."

Ah. That makes sense. Kosuke usually takes the ring off when she's alone with Kyoya. Lately the two of them have taken to sneaking away from events to just have a minute to breathe. When she had been at Jin's home just three days ago, the two of them had stolen away into one of the husk-empty bedrooms for a break from all the socializing. Also, Kosuke needed to take off the stilettos she'd stupidly braved.

"Oh, thank you so much, Ms. J—Mom." Kosuke reinforces her smile. "I have no idea how I could have forgotten it."

She slides her gold and ruby-encrusted shackle back on her ring finger, and when she meets Jin's eyes again, they're grim.

"It's a symbol of your family, Kosuke. You must take great care of it."

Is Kosuke being scolded? By Jin? Jin Hobayashi-nee-Ootori?

"Y-Yes ma'am," she stutters out. "I will. Thank you."

Footsteps come clacking, and while Jin straightens her posture, Kosuke grits her teeth. Miyuri comes with a phone—maybe the same one she'd given Kosuke after she found her family photos turned to ashes—and she extends it to Jin after a deep bow. "Mr. Amida, Mrs. Ootori."

"Ah, thank you. And it's Ms. Hobayashi now." Jin holds the phone to her ear with a smile for the person who can't see it. "Hello, Shigeo. Where are you now?...Oh, that's a shame. I was hoping I would see you...No, no, not at all. I should be apologizing, dropping by without a warning...Well, Kosuke left something at my home the other night..."

Her eyes flicker to Kosuke.

"A tube of lipstick. I thought it was mine at first—" She laughs. "—but Kyoya said it was definitely hers. It's a very fine tube, you know. The creator doesn't produce it anymore, so I thought I should bring it back straightaway. I know I'd want the same if it were mine!...Yes, of course...Oh, thank you. It really is a shame you aren't here, I was going to see if I could have tea with you both...Perhaps next time, then. Good evening, Shigeo, hopefully I'll be seeing you soon."

Giving Miyuri the phone back, Jin says, "Bring some tea for us to the dining room."

While the tea is brewing, the children come downstairs just long enough to say hello, then rush back to their cushion-construction. They've added an aquarium. Kosuke is wary of more scolding, but Jin just wants to catch up on every breath Kosuke's taken since they last parted. Kosuke tries to keep the conversation even and return questions, but everything she says rivets Jin. She never glances at her cup even when it's coming to her mouth.

It's draining, but it's also nice to know that at least half of the Ootori family is looking forward to Kosuke joining them.

Talk does turn back to the ring eventually, when Jin sighs, "Fuyumi was just five years old when I had a bracelet made for her graduation. I was still more patient than my mother, however! She had mine made when I was three."

"That's sweet. I should do something like that for Minami and Hitsuji when they graduate. I'm sure Airi would love to make them something."

She has seen her grandmother at work before, so the image of her welding mask illuminated with sparks comes easily. Perhaps she'll make something for Kosuke, too.

A memory bubbles up: Kosuke and Emiko in a jewelry store, looking down at gems in glass boxes.

"She did that for my mother," Kosuke muses aloud. Why to Jin, she doesn't know, but she keeps going. "I thought Mom just meant her mother had bought something for her."

The tiniest acknowledgment of her mother had been a struggle for Emiko. Probably she'd left the gift behind with everything else when she left. Kosuke could ask Airi, but she doesn't think she wants to.

"What about you?" Jin prods. "Is it a tradition?"

"Mom was going to get something for me." Kosuke runs her thumb along the lip of her teacup. "I don't think she ever got to it, though. Or maybe she did and was hiding it until I graduated."

She and Emiko had left the jewelry store empty-handed that day. Kosuke would like to think Emiko just wanted some ideas so to surprise Kosuke later. What she really thinks is that that small admission of Emiko's past had been too much for her, so she ran. Again.

Jin doesn't respond and watches the movement of Kosuke's hands. Realizing how the mood has waned, Kosuke puts on a smile. "What about Kyoya and his brothers? Is there a tradition for them, too?"

Jin explains that her sons get watches upon graduation, each personalized down to the minute hand. She pauses first, probably because this is the deepest a conversation with her future daughter-in-law has gone. Kosuke doesn't mention the watch Airi gifted Kyoya. She's just relieved to watch Jin gush over her children.

Another small victory to rub in Shigeo's face: Kosuke's birthday.

Her friends want to go a food and wine festival in Yokohama. Her classmates want to go the Kantō Mountains. Minami and Hitsuji want to create a treasure map for her to find her presents with. Ranka wants to meet her in town for dinner and Shigeo and Airi want to take her to a ryokan for a night. Kyoya refuses to tell her what he wants to do, no matter how much Kosuke begs to know.

Letters and gifts come in an avalanche, filling her room with gilded necklaces and gemstone bracelets from business moguls whose paths she once crossed at some New Year's party or charity gala. Kosuke will hardly wear most of them. Fine jewelry is a hazard in the kitchen, not to mention too glamorous for her usual jeans and sneakers, so she'll probably donate them to a charity in a year or two. But it's just so delicious knowing Shigeo is getting reports of each and every present that his awful, trouble-making daughter is receiving.

One downside to this: the dozens of thank-you letters Kosuke has to pen, trying to sound sincere to faceless strangers. When she's not doing that, she's cataloging her gifts like a warehouse worker. So, two downsides.

She is two necklaces, three bracelets, a pair of earrings, and six thank-you notes in when Miyuri brings a gift from Haruhi, who will finally be returning for good in December but can't make the birthday festivities.

Inside the box (which Miyuri had sneered at, because it's just a cardboard shipping box like mere peasants use) is a pack of fine-tipped gel pens, a padlocked notebook with the Sugar Plum Pixies on the cover, and three candles with apple strudel, peach Bellini, and lemon-lavender scents. It may seem like pocket lint compared to everything else, but to Kosuke, it's like Haruhi is watching her from across the ocean.

Haruhi has also included gifts for the children, like always, so Kosuke calls them into her room. Minami dons her knit cap, black and white with ears like a panda, as though it's a glorious crown. Hitsuji's cap, blue with long rabbit ears, is slapped on haphazardly. "What's apple strudel?"

"It's like apple pie. Here, smell."

Hitsuji takes a deep whiff. Then he sticks his tongue out to it, so Kosuke takes the candle back with a quick, "No."

Miyuri reenters the room and gives another sneer, this time to the children's hats. Kosuke snaps, "What."

"There's a chauffeur waiting for you outside."

Knowing Kosuke is about to reply that she never called for one, Miyuri gives her a creamy letter with swooping characters. Kosuke recognizes it as the same one that the Ootoris send out for invitations or well wishes. Inside, it simply reads:

Kosuke, Minami, & Hitsuji

Your ride awaits.

The children already have their noses pressed to the windows. Hitsuji whoops, "Kosuke, you got a limousine! Are you gonna drive it?"

Minami frowns. "But you already have a lot of limousines?" And man if that isn't unnerving, hearing Minami talk about limousines like they're coffee mugs and not the things she used to squawk at if she saw them out the car window.

"It must be from Kyoya. I guess he's taking us somewhere for a surprise."

"Where? Where?"

Minami tuts, "If she knew it wouldn't be a surprise, Hitsuji." Her brother replies with a world-weary groan.

"Go on, guys, get ready. Adventure is calling."

A surprise isn't unusual for Kyoya. Heck, he'd gotten Kosuke a kitten for one birthday, and that was just when the two of them were solidly in the platonic zone. While the children jump into their shoes and fruitlessly comb at their curls, even Kosuke is wrapped up in the curious excitement. Where, where, indeed. Saying she refused to dwell on the what-could-have-beens of Spike wasn't a lie, but that doesn't mean she won't love a nice surprise.

As the three of them sit in the limousine, they try to count stoplights and guess turns, then finally admit defeat. They're deeper in the city now, the limousine coasting alongside taxi cabs and buses. When they think they'll finally come to a stop, no, they keep going. Once, they slow down in front of an office supply store, and Hitsuji tries to cheer, "Kosuke, look! Paperclips!"

The true destination is two turns away. The chauffeur opens the door. Before Kosuke even has her head out, the children are cheering, "Sugi! Airi!"

Minami squeezes Sugimoto around the knees, but Airi tosses Hitsuji up higher than any woman her age should be able to manage (and higher than Kosuke's heart can take). It's still a bit odd seeing them outside of their house, which had served as their rendezvous point for so long. At least when Kosuke is allowed to see them, they don't have to hide anymore.

"You two," declares Airi, "are in for a treat today."

"Cupcakes?" guesses Hitsuji. "Cookies?"

"No, we're going somewhere. I'll give you a hint: it's super cool and amazing and is going to blow your mind."

Hitsuji spitfires, "The toy store! A pet store! The beach! The aquarium! Space!"

"Nope. Another hint: it ends with land."

"Ooh! Ooh!" Minami shoots her hand up like an excited student. "New Zealand!"

"No. But, uh, maybe we can go there one day. We're going to Rocketland!"

Rocketland is an indoor children's park that had just opened up in the city, one of those places with ocean-sized ballpits and ticket-spitting arcade games, with tubes and nets sprawling the whole space for children to get lost in.

Probably that was going to be Hitsuji's next guess, because he throws his fists up and roars victory. People passing by chuckle at him. Minami tries to keep up the act as the more mature older sister, but even she's bouncing on her feet. "Really? All of us?"

"Ooh, hold on." Kosuke ducks back inside the limousine and grabs her tote. "Here, I almost forgot—"

"Not so fast, honey," Sugimoto says. At the same time, the chauffeur holds up a hand to her.

"Your destination is elsewhere, Miss," he explains.

"I—Oh." Just the two of them, then? Kosuke won't complain. "Alright. You guys have fun, okay? Listen to Airi and Sugimoto."

The next time the limousine stops, it's before a building Kosuke has never been to. She doesn't catch its name on the overhead sign before she goes in, but judging by the huge mahogany desk and the exquisite velveteen furniture, it's a hotel. A concierge with pin-straight hair and a charcoal suit greets her with a Mona Lisa smile, confirms her name, and beckons Kosuke to follow her into the elevator.

The concierge inserts a key into the button panel then presses the button for the top floor, where Kosuke just assumes Kyoya will be waiting. Though she still can't tell for the life of her why he's chosen a hotel, of all places.

Other than the obvious, which—no. No. Surely not. He wouldn't surprise her with that.

One long, long ascent later, the elevator doors slide open again to a penthouse with mirror-like marble floors and two miniature waterfalls on either side of the entrance. Wildly luxurious, and Kosuke hasn't even stepped inside yet.

When she does, it is definitely a surprise. Not a pleasant one. But a surprise.

The penthouse is filled with a crowd of women, perhaps two familiar faces among all of them. The youngest seems to be in her late twenties, the oldest her sixties, and it looks like they've come from all over the world. Kosuke catches words in unfamiliar languages, names of places she's never heard of. There is one thing the women all have in common: they are dressed prim and proper in dresses and pantsuits, gleaming jewelry, hair slicked and curled and pinned.

Unlike Kosuke, who stands before them all in jeans and a sweater. Her first thought is that she's an intruder, the concierge has taken her to the wrong place, and now she's going to have to spew apologies as she runs back to the lobby. The women notice her, and a hush spreads through them. They look at her with apprehension, or even distaste. Some whisper behind their palms.

Kosuke steps back, burning from her collarbones to her scalp. "I-I-I am so, so sorry, I—"

Her name trills into the air like a song.

Jin emerges from the crowd in a turquoise pantsuit and a silver gemstone choker as thick as a bookmark. The joy in her eyes dampens when she sees Kosuke's clothes, but sparks again just as quickly. She scoops Kosuke to her.

"Surprise, surprise! Happy early birthday to you!"

"Oh!" That's all Kosuke can say. Other than, What? Which Jin probably doesn't want to hear.

"I'm so happy you're here. Airi and Sugimoto were just dolls, helping me get this together. Now, come here." Jin gently pushes her forward with a hand to the small of her back. "These are my friends. Let me introduce you."

All who had been sneering at her quickly fix their faces. Each step Kosuke takes brings her deeper into the water, the strangers' hands reaching out for her, bodies coming closer.

"It's wonderful to finally meet you."

"I've been dying to get to know you, dear."

"Take a seat, we have to know everything about you."

The words happy birthday repeat on loop, and now her being here makes sense, but not really. If anyone was going to corral her into a surprise birthday party, it would've been Tamaki or Fuyumi. Not Jin, and not with these strangers.

One thing is for certain: Kyoya is not here.

A woman with a scissor-sharp bob cut asks, "What would you like to drink, dear? Rose? Moscato? Riesling? You look like a Riesling girl. Riesling it is."

She snaps her fingers. A bow-tied waiter materializes at Kosuke's side with a glass and pours wine straight from the bottle. "Oh."

Another woman in a snazzy pinstripe suit tuts, "Let's get you out of that sweater."

The glass is taken away. Someone pulls her sweater off, leaving her in a T-shirt. The glass returns. "Oh."

"Hold on." A woman with scarlet nails claps her hands together and calls behind her, "Come."

Kosuke hadn't noticed, but there's a small platform that the women have formed a half-circle around. Another woman, slender and lithe as a nymph, comes gliding from somewhere Kosuke can't see. She's dressed in a pearly pink gown that spills in petals around her ankles. She steps onto the platform in strappy flats and begins turning in slow half-circles, posing.

"What do you think?" The woman with the scarlet nails asks Kosuke.

There's no time to be confused. Kosuke nods and agrees, "It's very pretty."

So the woman snaps her nails again and says, "Mark it." Then she winks. "Don't worry, Jin told us your size."

"Oh."

Thus begins Kosuke's private fashion show-slash-shopping spree, and a quick strategy. When a model steps onto the platform, Kosuke sneaks glances at women's faces to gauge how she should respond. All the while, they continue their flood of introductions, pulling Kosuke's mind into a tug-of-war for attention.

Collette. Kiko. Yuka. Huije. Asami. Penelope. Rena. Gisele. Fatima. Diya. Misao. Miki. Wives, mothers, sisters, aunts, matriarchs. Nicaragua, the Netherlands, Germany. All the words, all the relations, they just start melting together. One of them might be related to Jin? Kosuke thinks that what Jin says, but all she gets is my distant cousin's sister-in-law's brother's youngest niece before she loses it.

And the questions they ask sometime hit odd notes. Sure, they ask after her family and her classes and how excited she is for her wedding, but they sprinkle in some marvel, too.

"Did you really live above a restaurant?"

"A high school in Karuizawa, really?"

"Never left the country in your whole life?"

Some are aghast and some are awed. Kosuke has come from another planet. Eventually she's being passed around like a dish at a banquet. Kosuke had thought that after two years, she wouldn't have to feel this way anymore.

What she wouldn't give for Fuyumi to be here. She's lost in a storm of strangers, and Jin seems blind to how overwhelming it all is. Her eyes glitter.

"Yes, we did live above the restaurant, but there wasn't anything bad about it." A blue empire dress. Gauging reactions. No. "I wish I could've gone to Ouran when I was in high school, too. I definitely missed out." A prismatic A-line dress. Gauging reactions. Yes. "My parents were very hands-on with their business, so there was never enough time to go out of the country." A lacy bouffant dress. Gauging reactions. Maybe?

The elevator door pings open again, and this time the room goes deathly quiet. Kosuke twists around in her seat to look at yet another woman approaching, as unfamiliar as the rest. Her hair is the most luscious Kosuke has ever seen, ripples of chocolate and gold falling down to her waist. She, too, is wearing a pantsuit, this one with great leg-of-mutton sleeves and a belt of gold chains around her hips.

"Oh, I am so sorry for being so late!" The stranger clasps her hands together, begging forgiveness. "Worst timing, so many cars at the front at the same time. Do forgive me, won't you?"

From behind Kosuke comes a click-click of heels as Jin goes to the woman. The two of them bend at the waist to hug each other, like getting too close will ruin their perfect ensembles. "Oh, Mutsu. I'm so happy you could make it. How have you been? How's your sister?"

To the right, Collette mutters, "Here we go." Kosuke turns to see Huije with her teaspoon pressed between her lips, as though to cork herself.

"Is something wrong?"

Penelope beckons Kosuke to lean closer and whispers, "You're looking at a pair of mortal enemies to rival Athena and Ares."

"Mortal enemies?" Kosuke looks Jin up and down. Bubbly and outgoing Jin, who's still twittering away as Mutsu does a little turn to show off her belt. "Wh—How? Why?"

"No one knows when it started, but they've loathed each other for ages." Fatima starts ticking off her fingers. "Mutsu wears an unreleased piece from Subouche at Jin's birthday party, so Jin invites Takeshi Sanada to Mutsu's anniversary ball, so Mutsu produces a film starring Takeshi Sanada, so Jin produces three films starring Takeshi Sanada..."

"I heard once that Mutsu always hated Jin for marrying Yoshio," offers Rena, quiet as a breath. "But I also heard Jin has always hated Mutsu for marrying Kento."

"I heard it was because Jin stole the name Mutsu chose for her firstborn."

"I heard it was because Mutsu found out Jin was due first, so she had labor induced to beat Jin to motherhood."

"I heard it was because Jin beat Mutsu for class president in high school by switching up the votes."

The back-and-forth is dizzying. Kosuke cuts in, "If they hate each other so much, why is Mutsu here? I mean, why would Jin invite her?"

"Oh." Rena waves a hand. "Jin owes it to her. Mutsu gave Jin CPR when she almost drowned on a beach in the Maldives."

"I—What?"

"Well, to be fair, Mutsu owed her for that." Penelope adds a sugar cube to her teacup. "Remember? Mutsu fainted at that Grecian festival from heat syncope, and Jin carried her all the way to the ambulance."

"When did that—"

"Sure, but that only happened after Mutsu saved Jin from the yakuza."

"The yakuza—!"

"I would hope so, after Jin donated one of her own kidneys to her!"

Yuka hums. "I thought it was her liver."

Kiko retorts, "I thought it was her appendix."

"Why would someone need an appendix transplant?"

"And you must be Kosuke!"

Kosuke shoots to her feet, almost spilling the wine she hasn't even had a chance to sip. Mutsu strides over and squeezes her shoulders, giving her sweater and jeans a look-over.

"A delight to meet you dear, really."

"Thank you, Ms. Mutsu."

"Mrs. Mutsu Hojo. I'm a friend of Jin's, so I have no excuse for being away for so long. Here, just to make up for it..."

Two people emerge from the elevator with a snap of Mutsu's fingers. (Lots of finger-snapping going on, Kosuke notes.) They push a tall aluminum rack holding a half-dozen vinyl black bags on hangers.

"Would you happen to be a fan of DeLuce?"

At first Kosuke thinks she says Debussy, and she's about to bemusedly confirm that yes, she does like the classical pianist's work. She's stopped by a chorus of gasps.

"Mutsu, how on earth did you find those?" Kiko cries though her fingers. "DeLuce hasn't created a design in years! I thought the last of her pieces were auctioned off ages ago."

"Which is why I had to do quite a bit of coaxing to ask this favor out of her." While the women sit gaping, Mutsu zips one of the bags open just for Kosuke, giving her a smirk as she thumbs at a satiny blush material. "Six pieces from DeLuce, all just for you, dear. There are none other in the world like them."

"Oh, wow," Kosuke gasps with all her acting chops. How does she not know who DeLuce is? She's supposed to know all this by now! "This is...incredible! I don't know what to say."

"It's a long-overdue gift, dear. Though, you could do me a favor by trying one of these on. I didn't even get to see them myself."

The strangers cheer Kosuke on. Their hands start pulling at her arms and wrists. The bags hide Jin from view, so Kosuke cranes her neck to look at her. Jin's smiling, but it's miles away from her eyes, which have gone marble-cold.

"Yes, Kosuke, please do," she agrees. "I'm dying to see it."

Kosuke is pulled away before she can blink.

The dress that was grabbed at random is made out of some midnight-black material that is somewhere between velvet and satin. It hugs her hips but loosens as it falls to her feet. The sleeves are long and the neck is high. The dress itself is plain, because the real showstopper is the cape. It ties across Kosuke's shoulders with a chain of silver links, made of a billowing, shimmery material, like the thread is made of amethysts.

Just putting it on isn't enough, of course. The women quickly have attendants style her hair and dust her face in smoky makeup. Then her shoes are taken away, and replaced by a pair of razor-sharp stilettos that could probably be used as a murder weapon.

Catching a look of herself in the mirror, well, Kosuke doesn't whine. She's definitely eye-catching, and kind of...sultry? She's made into the next model for the fashion show to an audience cooing over how pretty she is, how the dress is just perfect for her, she's a vision—all with some degree of shock.

"Give us a turn, won't you," calls Collette. Kosuke gives as much as her stilettos will allow. Probably they notice her balancing act, but they keep gushing despite it.

Kosuke should be preening, but she did not miss the way her shoes were ripped off, her sweater tossed away like a rag. She hasn't just been dressed up, she's been "fixed."

"Oh, let's do another one." Diya pulls one hanger off the rack, then another, and then takes them all. "Let's do all of them! It's Kosuke's turn on the catwalk."

Kosuke's stomach plummets at the same time that the women's voices rise, but with a clap, they all go silent. Jin puts on a diplomatic smile once she has everyone's attention.

"Before we do that," she announces, "I had another gift I wanted to give Kosuke."

"Oh, of course." Mutsu takes a seat among the guests who shuffle around her, making room for the esteemed friend of DeLuce.

"Oh, no, not here. We'll need to make a little trip for it. Come along, Kosuke, I'm too excited to wait!"

"Oh, uh." Jin walks over and takes Kosuke off the platform. "Okay."

Walking is hard enough in the stilettos. With the ladies all squished in together, a tight fit even when split between elevators, every step Kosuke takes is a risk of crashing into the floor. They all make an elegant stampede down several floors, across a long hallway, and into more elevators. Thankfully Kosuke is spared any well-meaning grilling on the way, though someone always keeps a hand on her elbow or her back, like the precious dress has turned her into glass.

The top floor of a parking garage concerns Kosuke for an instant—no, please, don't make her travel around the city like this—until she sees the reason, which is whole new cause for concern. Right in the middle of the lot (for peak showmanship, parking spots be damned) is a car that's so large, polished, and opulent, it looks like a great exotic beetle. Even the giant bow slapped on the hood is made of lush crepe.

The gasps around her conceal Kosuke's silence. Jin places a pair of keys into her palm, reminiscent of a knighting ceremony. "The best of the best. Here, let me show you what it can do."

They spend an eternity pressing all the buttons on the fob and in the car. Highlights include: butterfly doors, self-warming seats, self-cooling seats, a sun roof, wine coolers in the floor, LED interior lighting in two hundred different colors, a top-of-the-line GPS, an HD TV that rises from the floor, an autopilot mode, and more and more and more. It's basically a compact space station, and Kosuke is no astronaut.

"It can reach four hundred kilometers an hour," brags Jin.

While the ladies ooh and ah, Kosuke wonders why she would ever drive at four hundred kilometers an hour. For a race? Is this a racecar? Do rich people do races?

What? Oh—! Jin's just asked Kosuke if she likes it. Crap.

"It's amazing! Really, it's so incredible. I just—I wish I had my driver's license."

The ladies giggle like she's made a joke. Jin squeezes Kosuke's shoulder.

Mutsu straightens up from peering into the car interior and saunters over to them. "You know, it's actually perfect that we came out here. I have something else to show you, too."

Kosuke doesn't miss the venom that flashes in Jin's eyes as Mutsu guides Kosuke towards the edge of the parking garage. Their posse follows, everyone's dresses and hair billowing fabulously in the breeze, while Kosuke is tousled about like clothes in a dryer.

They're high enough to see rooftops and roads that stretch into obscurity. Mutsu makes a show of peering around, tapping her chin, until she points. "There. Do you see it?"

Kosuke tries to follow her finger. She sees some skyscrapers, some billboards, buildings small and square as dice on the horizon. "Um..."

"Here." Mutsu flourishes a pair of golden binoculars, the ones Kosuke has seen used in the box seats at operas.

Kosuke takes them and tries again.

"The one with the black strip down the side."

When she sees it, Kosuke throws herself backwards, terrified that she'll drop these expensive binoculars off the edge.

"Jin's said you haven't traveled much," Mutsu tuts, "but when you start, you should do it in style."

Others take out and pass around binoculars of their own—is this normal? Is Kosuke always supposed to have a pair of binoculars on hand?—to admire the gift. Sitting atop the distant tarmac of an airport is an airplane.

An airplane.

"An airplane?!"

"A jet, sweetie." Mutsu pats her on the back. "Much faster."

Diya chuckles in disbelief. "Mutsu, you never fail to impress."

"Hey, I have a birthday coming up, too," Collette jests, and the ladies laugh.

Kosuke can't join them. She has an entire airplane, all to herself, when she grew up with so many people who had never seen the inside of one in all their lives. So she can, what, pop over to Honolulu when she's bored? For when she just feels like blasting carbon emissions into the atmosphere? She may be the most ungrateful person in the world, but she doesn't know what to do with this.

A touch to her hand makes her jump. Jin is behind her, smiling without teeth, her phone in hand as though she'd just ended a call. Her face is uncanny. Jin does not usually struggle to put on a smile.

"Isn't that grand? We'll have to use it someday soon. I know a dozen places to take you to."

"A-ah, of course. That'd be great."

"I actually know somewhere I'd like to take you right now. Not in that, it's not that far away. Come along, now. Ladies!"

The women are giggling over how much of a treat this is. Some are lifting their hems excitedly as they follow, like little girls about to break out into runs. It's cute, it's nice, but Kosuke knows that whatever celebration this might have been, it's turned into a standoff. She's been turned into the rope in a tug-of-war between these frenemies.

She considers feigning illness, or ducking into a bathroom just long enough to ring for Kyoya to save her, please, SOS! She might have already, if this weren't clearly so important to Jin. She's trying, which is more than Kosuke can say for half the Ootori family. Kosuke tries not to look gift horses in their mouths. Even in the middle of warzones.

So if Jin just wants Kosuke to smile, look pretty, and accept ludicrously grandiose gifts, she'll do it. She just knows she is going to crash tonight.

They stuff themselves into a limousine. The ladies' giddiness only intensifies when they're all sitting elbow-to-elbow. Except for Jin's and Mutsu's—whom Kosuke is fortunate enough to be sitting between. While Mutsu sits in satisfied serenity, Jin wraps her elbow tight around Kosuke's.

The ride is long enough that someone opens one of the coolers for champagne. There's a siren of squeals when the bottle pops open, the cap a cork bullet to the roof, foam spilling over manicured nails.

"First one is for the birthday girl!"

A glass is thrusted into her hands. Jin fidgets against her.

When the bottle is poured, it keeps pouring, until champagne kissing the lip of the glass. It trickles down Kosuke's fingers.

"Oh, oh—!"

"Drink," the women shrill and squawk. "Drink!"

"I—"

"Don't get it on the dress!"

Kosuke gulps the cold champagne down, and they all cackle. There's no way to tell if it's all in good fun or if it's at Kosuke's expense. Champagne has never tasted worse.

"Are you alright, dear?" Jin frets.

"I'm fine."

For the rest of the ride, Kosuke takes deep breaths to keep down an explosive burp. Jin rubs circles between her shoulder blades.

By the time the limousine parade stops, the sky has turned from blue to yellow. Kosuke sees a bay to her left and the great inky ocean to her right, and she so dearly hopes that this isn't going where she thinks it's going.

Jin leads them down the dock. The vessels get bigger and bigger, taller and taller, and then Kosuke's fear gets confirmed.

Jin flourishes a hand above her to the gleaming, three-story yacht with another great big bow at the helm. It's big enough to be a naval warship. The setting sun bounces off its polished sides.

"The S.S. Kosuke," Jin exclaims. "It's never even been stepped inside. Now all we need is a bottle for you to break!"

The guests appraise the vessel, saying things like draught and transom. Kosuke adds that to her subjects to study up on: yacht terminology. Her eyes go over it—the deck, the helm, the slivers of leather sofas and wooden bars she can spy through the windows—and she can see the word mine stamped on all of it. She doesn't think she likes the sight.

"This is my idea of a good afternoon," Collette says to Kosuke. "Up on that deck, drink in my hand, soaking up the sun."

Kosuke nods, thinking, This thing is probably worth three years' salary to some people.

She's nudged forward to the ramp, and if she wasn't scared of her heels already, the seawater lapping beneath her feet does the trick. Behind her, she can hear Rena hum, "Very impressive. This could be quite a venue...Oh, Kosuke, where will you and Kyoya be having your wedding ceremony?"

Jin quickly butts in, "Oh, hold that thought, Kosuke, I want you to see the interior!" Which is a great thing, because Kosuke would have had to reply that she doesn't know.

The interior is no less pristine than the exterior, but it homes a whole crew waiting for orders with their hands behind their backs. There's a captain, and...other people. Add 'members of a ship crew' to the list, Kosuke thinks.

Jin tells the captain to "take them away," and the staff breaks into motion. Two take position behind a bar that only has top shelves. Chefs in white uniforms bring out platters of shrimp on beds of ice and giant red crabs with bowls of butter. A trio of musicians come from the woodwork (boatwork?) and begin to strum a merry but classy tune on strings. The great wood panel on the ceiling rolls back and reveals a Rococo-style painting of cherubs lounging on clouds.

The group splits. A few ladies go to the bar. Others take seats around a table, and whether they're playing bridge, mahjong, or whatever else, Kosuke knows they are going to smoke her. Kyoya has only just started teaching her these games and she hasn't won once. Though, to be fair, it's Kyoya.

"Do you like it?"

Jin has her hands clasped before her, like she's trying to look poised, but it looks more like she's begging. She looks strangely anxious.

Kosuke can hardly say no to a face like that, and duh, of course she is. Not disappointed at all. Just so overwhelmed. "It's amazing. Really. I—I can't believe I own a boat now! And a car. And a plane."

Ooh, she's feeling dizzy. Jin smiles, pleased, but doesn't show any teeth. Maybe Kosuke could've done without mentioning the plane. "Come here, sweet. Let's play High Rise."

"High Rise?" The dizziness intensifies as they approach the round table, and all the older, wiser, more experienced women who will be laughing at Kosuke in just a few minutes. She's never even heard of this game.

"Oh, don't look so scared! It's a game I made up myself, I'll show you how to play."

High Rise is blessedly simple. Players try to get five progressing cards in a row, discarding one card per turn and picking up from the draw stack or from the previous player's discard. For added fun, they get the musicians to stop playing at random, the pause signaling them to reverse the playing order. Soon they're all giggling and whining. Even such sophisticated ladies are not immune to the insanity a card game can invoke.

Mutsu joins them. Someone asks where she went, and she waves her hand and says the bathroom. Once again Kosuke finds herself sat between her and Jin. The game picks up with new fervor, hands moving about so quickly the polished nails seem likely to chip on the table.

Mutsu says that they should play pinochle next, and so eager to break the tension, Kosuke says, "Oh, how do you play that?"

She just assumes it's another one of Jin's creations, but no. The ladies look at her surprised, and then snicker.

"You've never played pinochle?" Gisele exclaims. "Honey, where have you been?"

Kosuke puts on a sheepish smile to stifle the heat threatening to burn in her cheeks.

"It's been ages since I've last played," Jin protests. "I've forgotten myself. A refresher course would be good."

She doesn't even look at Kosuke when she says it. Kosuke is grateful, and confused. Does Jin notice her discomfort, or not? Why does she seem worried about it one second, only to actively encourage it the next?

"High Rise!" Misao cheers as the others groan and whine. She slaps down her streak of two-of-clubs to six-of-hearts on the table.

"I was so close," Diya sighs, while next to her Kiko snorts, "I never got anywhere close."

Misao takes everyone's cards and starts shuffling them by doing that trick where the cards flutter under her palms. (The one Kosuke has never figured out and that Kyoya failed to teach her.) "Now let's do that refresher course on pinochle."

Jin's delicate little smile darkens, then opens—but before it lets anything out, Mutsu chirps up, "Actually, could I borrow Kosuke for a moment?"

She rises without even waiting for a response. Why would she? As though Kosuke could refuse. All the champagne starts to curdle in Kosuke's stomach as she stands. The soft fabric of the dress is starting to burn on her skin. Jin's gaze follows their every step, still watching even when they're far out of sight.

Kosuke follows Mutsu onto the deck of the ship—her ship—where the cool salty air does nothing for her nerves. They're far out enough for the coast to be a ribbon of bright pearls on the horizon. The water is inky-dark even though the sun hasn't quite set just yet. That setting sun must explain the little speed of Mutsu's steps as she goes to the railing and points out.

"See that?"

She points, and this time, Kosuke doesn't feel a thing. Seeing the island, small but with lush vegetation, cottony sand, and a two-story beach house, Kosuke just stares.

At least she broke the transportation theme. What would I do with a rocket?

"Isle de Rêves," Mutsu explains. She folds her arms and leans against the railing. "Or, whatever you'd like to call it. Maybe you and Kyoya can have some weekend getaways here."

It's not the waves that have her legs wobbling. She feels like she's a child again, listening to Emiko or Marti tell sugary lies to her, not realizing that she's old enough to see through them.

"Why are you giving me this."

And like Emiko and Marti, Mutsu frowns as though she's forgotten she was lying to begin with. "It's just a gift, sweet. Really, not so grand as it seems. This used to belong to my third cousin, then his niece, then, well, so on. It's a lovely little place, but none of us have time to give it the love it deserves. It should go to someone young, like you."

The frown deepens when Kosuke still doesn't play along, doesn't correct her confusion and start giving profuse thanks. Kosuke just looks at her.

If Mutsu's about to crack under that look, she's saved by a trio of guests coming onto the deck. They see the island, then call for more of the women, and then there are more questions about how big it is and who it belonged to and what's in the beachhouse. Kosuke is only acknowledged when she's asked doesn't she think it's just beautiful and does she like it. By the time things have quieted down, Kosuke is gazing longingly into the seawater.

Mutsu must have paid the captain to go around the island. It stays in some window or another for the next hour, affixed as the moon. Kosuke feels...stuffed. Like she's eaten too much food, when she's barely touched a morsel all evening.

There's a moment, when she is corralled into sitting in a half-moon, listening to embarrassing high school stories and horrifying mishaps from oversea travels, that Kosuke almost stands and screams, Take me home! She even feels the muscles in her calves tighten. The moment passes. The feeling doesn't.

It gets worse. It's not just in her head anymore, it's spread throughout her body into something tangible. Her lungs are being squeezed. Needles are prickling on her skin. Eventually Collette looks at her and says, "Kosuke, are you alright? You don't look well."

Propriety or not, Kosuke says, "I think I need to step outside for a minute."

Perhaps it's the giddiness of the party, or the champagne, but even then the ladies still babble away, offering her drinks and grabbing her hand and lifting her up. Shut up, shut up, stop touching me. Finally one arm wraps around her, and like a force-field, the rest give way.

Jin leads Kosuke back outside, and though the stars are fully lit now, the island lurks as a great shadowy behemoth in front of them. Jin pulls Kosuke away from it, rounding the back of the boat until there's nothing but the sea in front of them. Whether because Kosuke made a face, or it was Jin's own volition, Kosuke can't say.

"Soooo sorry, honey pie," Jin sighs once they're alone. She lets Kosuke go and leans against the wall. "They're so overwhelming. So much."

Jin's cheeks are flushed, and the way she stands is loose, unraveled. At first Kosuke thinks her eyes are sunken, but then she sees that they're half-lidded, the smoky eye shadow on full display.

Oh, and now Jin's drunk. Fantastic.

"You—" can't be serious, Kosuke nearly says. You're the only person here I know, and you do this to me? There is no 'but' to the thought this time, just the reminder that a snap might make a scene. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Mm, you sound like Kyoya. Or Fuyumi. One of 'em." Jin blows a lazy raspberry. "This is such a stupid party, isn't it?"

Geez. If there's no filter, the answer to Kosuke's question must be five bottles. She doesn't try to coo any comfort; in a state like this, Jin may not hear her. "It's not stupid. Here, sit down."

Jin does, but goes on, "Stupid party with stupid people. Stupid, stupid."

"I'm going to go get you some water."

"Nooooo, no, stay. Sit with me." Kosuke hesitates. Jin repeats, Sit with me. Maybe trying to sound stern, but she's pouting.

Honestly? A drunk Jin might make for better company. Besides, Kosuke can't risk her toppling off the deck. So she sits next to Jin and forgets the weirdness of it all for a minute. Just them, the night, and the breeze. And the occasional burp from Jin.

"I mean, what was I expecting, huh? Everything is stupid now. Have you noticed? Everything and everyone. We're all just stupid people playing stupid games."

"Okay."

"I'm dancing. See? I'm dancing for 'em."

She isn't moving.

"Mutsu just..." Burp. "Just can't help herself. Can't keep her stupid—her damn mouth shut. What a twit. So bitter. Bitter twit. Bittertwitter. After all this time. Can't get over it."

"Okay."

"Like I did something wrong. Like I did something wrong, y'know? Just trying to be nice. J-Just trying to help a sad girl out. Even though the girl was a twit too. But she was just a girl having to do all the stupid stuff we're all doing."

Kosuke is only half-listening. It's just a bunch of words in a random string. "Right."

"Not my fault, nope. Not mine. Tried my best to help, she just—we—stupid. Stupid, stupid. Stupid me, stupid Mutsu stupid Amaya. All of us."

The name pops Kosuke like static. She turns to Jin, so quickly the woman's eyebrows go up at her. "What?"

"I-It's her mom's fault, y'know. All her. Doing her girl like that. Just a girl. But no, myyyy fault. Sure. Whatever. So goddamn stupid."

"What does Amaya—"

Mutsu comes around the corner and smirks when she finds them. "There you two are! I was wondering—"

Jin groans. "Can't you just go away already, you stupid harpy?"

Mutsu's eyebrows flick up, but the smirk doesn't drop. "Oh dear, oh dear. You haven't overdone yourself again, have you?"

"Shut up. Talking like you're better than me." Jin stands to her feet, wobbling. Kosuke grabs onto the leg of her pantsuit. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you? You just haaaaad to show me up."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Kosuke probably didn't even know who you were before today. Did you, Kosuke?"

Kosuke stands, too. She pats on Jin's shoulders to coax her down. "You should sit down."

"See!" Jin shrugs her hands off. "You don't care about her. Stop being coy."

"Oh, Kosuke." Mutsu tilts her head around Jin and shakes her head at Kosuke. "I'm so sorry you have to see her like this."

Jin glares. Even though she's falling off her feet drunk, it's acidic.

"Look, Mutsu. You can keep being pissy. I didn't do anything wrong, and you're not getting an apology. Maybe the reason Amaya came to me and not you is because she doesn't like you."

The smugness melts off Mutsu's face. The muscles in her neck tighten. Jin pokes a lacquered nail into her shoulder, but she doesn't flinch.

"But it can't be your fault. Nope. So you gotta blame me. You have to try and embarrass me, even though you embarrassed yourself. Well, guess what? You're still embarrassing yourself. Because at the end of this party, everything is going to be the same. Amaya is still going to hate you. So go on. Buy Kosuke a whole damn continent, if it makes you feel better."

She stills. A burp bubbles out of her mouth. Hand to her stomach, she grumbles, "Excusez-moi."

She tumbles away. Mutsu doesn't even look at her as she goes.

"Do you want to see something?"

Kosuke stands. "I'm going to make sure she's okay."

"Just one more gift. Last one."

"I really don't need anymore gifts."

"Kosuke. Sit."

Kosuke does. Obeying like a dog is shameful. But the one giving the command is her senior, a lady of the aristocracy. She can't be anything but pious.

Mutsu takes out her phone and pulls up a video. For the first ten seconds, it's all darkness and blurs. The sound is muffled. It settles eventually and focuses on an image of Jin and a few more strangers (how many friends does Jin have?) sitting in a leather circle around a dark table. Jin is leaning back with her head against the seat. A glass of something brown is swishing in her hand.

"And I'm trying," she whines. "I just don't know what else I can do."

"That must be frustrating," the woman to her left says, sounding too far gone to even hear Jin.

"What can we talk about? She doesn't know anything. She doesn't know anything about art or industry. She doesn't recognize a single person in the room. Does she ever go outside? I'm trying to be happy for Kyoya. He loves her, and I didn't think Kyoya would ever love anyone. But every time I introduce her to someone, every time I see her, it's just embarrassing. Wh-what am I supposed to brag about? She has no accomplishments, no accolades. She wasn't in a single club in school."

"That must be embarassing," the same woman repeats.

"Do you know which college she was going to attend? Seneca. What was her career goal? Dishwasher? Janitor? You should have heard her at the gallery. 'What's Fauvism? What does impasto mean?' And not just that, eeevery tiiime she's in a conversation, she's like a broken record. What's that? What's that? What's that?"

Behind the camera, Mutsu notes with a bit of a slur herself, "Sounds like you want a different daughter-in-law."

Jin is too drunk to glare properly. "All I'm saying is...A know-nothing bumpkin from Karuizawa. I don't know what Yoshio was thinking."

The video ends.

Kosuke raises her gaze to Mutsu, but they quickly go behind her, to Jin.

Even when she's unable to strand straight, she'd returned without a sound. Now she stands frozen. One hand is curled in front of her like she doesn't know what to do with it.

Her face crumples. Her shadowed eyes fill with tears. Then she takes off again.

Mutsu tuts. "Oh, she never does handle her liquor well. I guess you didn't need more evidence, huh?"

Kosuke stands and straightens out her dress. She looks down at Mutsu.

"You're really weird."

She returns to the party. Misao tells her that Jin is in a bedroom, feeling seasick. Kosuke takes another glass of champagne. Just one, because it makes her chest lighter. She sees why Jin loves the feeling.

Kyoya is not at all pleased when she calls him the next day. She had crashed into her bed the second she came home, just barely managing to shrug off the DeLuce dress, and now she finds her energy sapped again just recounting the story.

"I can't believe she did that to you." On the other side of the call, Kyoya pauses. "Actually, I can."

Kosuke shrugs, though she knows he can't see. Among the many, many gifts that are still flowing through the doors are a stack of papers declaring her ownership over Isle de Rêves. Mutsu could not reclaim a gift (imagine the scandal!) and Kosuke could not refuse it (imagine the scandal!) She's brainstorming how to discreetly get rid of an island.

"It was just so awkward, you know? All those strangers. And the way they acted..." Kosuke sighs. "Not to sound defeatist, Kyoya, but I think I'm always going to be a joke to these people. Seems like no matter what I do, I'm only ever going to be impressive for me."

"Don't say that. I wish I'd been there. I didn't even know it was happening."

"Guess Fuyumi gets her secret-keeping skills from her mom, huh?"

If he humors her with a laugh, she doesn't hear it. "What they think doesn't matter. Ignore them."

"Oh, I am. I just wish I'd stayed home. I could've done schoolwork, or read. Or stared at the walls, that would've been better."

She may sound flippant, but she's honest. For so long, she'd boiled with frustration at all of the standards and herself, for not meeting them. She'd spent days toiling over stepping on Thoki Maekawa's feet, had despaired when she overheard those women talking about it later.

Kosuke is not holding her head high in the face of judgement, nor is she cheering herself on with platitudes like You're fine just the way you are. She truly just doesn't care anymore. If only to spare herself from Shigeo's ire, she'll keep performing her dog tricks. But she's done wasting energy on these strangers who can only see something when they're looking down their nose at it.

"That includes Mother. Ignore her. She makes it easy, sometimes."

So he says, but Kosuke isn't deaf to the anger in his voice. She had considered keeping Mutsu's video to herself, if only to spare Jin further humiliation, but she had made a promise to Kyoya.

"Like I said, it's fine. I always thought she liked me a little too much from the get-go." Kosuke tosses her papers aside, tired of looking at them. "She really committed to the bit, though."

It didn't take a genius to see that the affection Jin had drowned Kosuke in was compensation for being away for so long, but yes, Kosuke thought it had turned genuine at some point. She is not heartbroken to be proven wrong. As she keeps promising Kyoya, she doesn't care.

It would be hypocritical if she did, because Kosuke is not Jin's biggest fan, either. From what she's seen, Jin's care for her son can only take her so far before she cringes away. Her vacation had been more important than comforting her family in the face of crisis. She hadn't bothered to even learn Kosuke's name. When her son was nearly hospitalized from over-exhaustion, she did not admonish her husband for pushing him too far, she didn't urge her son to take care of himself. No, she went looking for a painting she'd forgotten when she moved.

True, she had been going through a divorce at the time, a very public and dramatic one at that. Kosuke understands the urge to hide, she always has it. But though she may just be a sister, she still has children, and she does not put their love for them on pause when it's "too much."

Kosuke is just fine being on good terms with only a third of the Ootori family.

But to be clear, she wrote in her journal this morning, I am not a bumpkin.

"I'm sorry. She doesn't have any right to feel that way."

It's giving Kosuke deja vu of the aftermath of Spike, where his attempts to comfort her became her attempts to comfort him. "Kyoya, I know I've lied when I said it before, but I. am. fine. I'm not upset. I'm not crying. This doesn't change anything. After everything I've dealt with, this is nothing."

Kyoya mumbles agreement, which she understands. Logic or not, there's that protective instinct.

"I can hear your pager going off. I'll talk to you later. I love you."

"I love you, too."

She continues the day putting away gifts, getting tired of putting away gifts, and giving up on putting away gifts. She studies some classwork and gets a haircut scheduled for Hitsuji. She finishes a book about the history of the fast food business and journals some more. It was a suggestion from Haruhi that is doing wonders. The mansion really does feel like a prison no matter its size, but while she occasionally cringes when she remembers yesterday's events, Jin does not cross Kosuke's mind much.

Some of her journal pages are dedicated to A List of Things I'm Happy For. It gets a little longer every day, too long to justify anguish over a stranger who is still a stranger whether she's her fiance's mother or not.

Even so...When Miyuri comes to announce the arrival of Ms. Jin Hobayashi, again, Kosuke's stomach plummets. Whatever she's come for, Kosuke doesn't have the energy to deal with it. Yet deal with it she must, so she trudges out of her bedroom to greet her future stranger-in-law. She does so in sweatpants, not in spite but to prove a point.

This time, Jin is not a vision of grace. Still beautiful, of course, but her eyes are downcast, and she is...fidgeting. Kosuke didn't think it was possible. She has a large box in her hands.

Jin does look down at Kosuke's sweatpants, but doesn't make a face. Kosuke still bows to her, as she should.

"Are you feeling better?" Kosuke asks.

She doesn't mean it as a jab, but Jin grimaces. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

Silence. It's Kosuke's turn to break the ice, but she doesn't.

"You..." Jin's crimson lips pull into a grim smile. "You didn't like the party at all, did you?"

There's no use in denying it, she already knows the answer. Kosuke sighs and crosses her arms. "It was really kind of you to do all of that for me."

Jin snorts. "A party full of strangers, pushing and picking at you like a doll. I know how loathsome it is, dear. I've been through it so many times, I can't believe I did it to you."

Kosuke stays quiet, but she's surprised. Jin's charms could play a room like a piano. She made socialite sound like a career that required a college degree. But you can be excellent at something and have no love for it, Kosuke knows.

"It was for myself, not you. I'm sure you figured that out ages ago."

"I did." Jin gives her a look permitting her to continue. "But...why? Was it to prove a point?"

Jin's brow furrows so deep, it almost shadows her eyes. "What? What point?"

Kosuke just looks at Jin until her lips go into an O and the rouge on her cheeks darkens. So she wasn't so drunk that she forgot.

Jin sets the box down between their feet and twists the rings on her fingers. "I don't know what to say."

She stops, waiting. Waiting? Exhausted, Kosuke shrugs. Me neither.

It's uncomfortable, seeing Jin uncomfortable. Though, she doesn't run. Not just yet.

"I won't lie and say that wasn't how I felt, for a time. There were...other things happening at the time, you see. They were changing me for the worst." Jin laughs bitterly. "My children will attest to it. I was wrapped up in myself, and didn't think of you as a person. B-But then I got to know you, and I saw how happy you made Kyoya, and how much you care about him and your family. You're lovely, Kosuke. Truly lovely."

Her tone is so pleading, it twinges something in Kosuke's chest. She can't help it.

Still. "Then, why the party?"

Jin deflates a little. "I was trying to show you off. I wanted to...celebrate you and shower you with gifts and show everyone how charming you are. Then it just turned out to be a big joke. I'm hoping that...maybe this can make up for it? Just a little."

She bends down and lifts the lid off the box. Kosuke takes a deep breath so she doesn't groan instead. She's probably about to get a deed for a whole planet. Or every single diamond on Earth, now hers.

Jin lifts up fabric, cottony and padded, not a dress. It has a pattern of triangles and squares in different shades of purple. Jin lifts it up to her chest as wide as her arms can spread, and it's still larger.

It's a quilt. A homey patchwork quilt with invisible stitches, something like Sugimoto would make.

Jin explains in a warm, quiet voice. "My mother would make these whenever she got a free second. She'd always give them to family and friends as presents, so she didn't keep many for herself. This is one of the few she kept. I thought it suited you. Do you like it?"

The quilt looks as though it was made yesterday. Jin must have had it for years, tending to it, keeping it clean and bright. Sometimes Kosuke will open one of her mother's cookbooks and run her fingers over the writing. Has Jin run her fingers over these stitches?

"It's perfect."

Kosuke folds the quilt over her arm and hugs Jin. This time, Jin fully leans into it, never minding if Kosuke wrinkles her shirt or if the tackiness of Kosuke's sweatpants will rub off on her slacks.

Jin never says I'm sorry,so Kosuke never says I forgive you. When they separate, Jin looks her over with warmth in her eyes. She tucks a lock of hair behind Kosuke's ear.

"Can I ask you about some things?"

"Of course." Jin flicks a finger beneath her eye, nodding fervently. "Of course you can."

"Here, let's go to the dining room. Miyuri can make us some tea."

Kosuke still doesn't call Jin Mom. But what a gift.

What a gift.