A Mistake

"Where's Kana?" I inquire in a half serious tone as I casually steal one of Ha-san's cigarettes. He doesn't answer right away. He never does. He continues what he's doing – some sort of paper work, a chart of some kind it looks like – and doesn't even acknowledge my question until he has completed it. I've lit the cigarette and taken two draws from it before he finally puts his pen down and leans back in his chair with a deep, but inconspicuous sigh.

"I let her go early today," he tells me, taking one of my cigarettes in exchange for the one I stole from him and lighting it with a match. "Someone in her immediate family is sick."

I love the way Ha-san says "immediate family," always having to clarify everything. That's the one thing he learned from school that I've always appreciated – his straightforwardness. It hasn't made him any less secretive however. There are still things I'm sure he's hiding from me, either because he's afraid of what I'll think, what I'll say, or how I'll feel. He can be somewhat protective of others. If it's in your best interest Ha-san will do it, no matter if it's painful or cold or pathetically sappy.

Though there are some things he can be convinced to do that benefit no one. I can forgive him for these things, even though I wonder why it's necessary to go to such drastic measures. He can't help the power he has, and I suppose it wouldn't be in his best interest to disobey orders, though I've often wondered if it were me, would I be so willing to comply?

Ha-san sits in his chair with his eyes closed, smoke blowing in two straight lines from his nostrils. He doesn't have much to say these days. The biggest thing in his life is Kana, and I am happy for him, that he's found love outside of what Aya and I can provide for him. We're not jealous. We love Ha-san equally, and this sort of happiness is rare and hard to come by for our family. We cherish it with him. Even though there is something I would like to know . . .

"Have you told Kana?"

Ha-san opens his eyes and looks at me, slightly shocked. I didn't mean to take him off guard. He's so easily shocked though sometimes. He's really so very fragile inside. He turns away from me quickly, flicking ash into the ashtray on his desk, pushing it further away from the edge in a smooth, but nervous gesture.

"No."

"Are you ever?"

He doesn't reply immediately. I think he's not going to reply at all, so I turn away, looking out onto the garden as I take another drag of his cigarette. His cigarettes are so harsh. I don't know how he could smoke these things all the time. My cigarettes are light, and I don't have a need for them very often. Sometimes the buzz is nice. It's relaxing when there's too much on my mind, or when there's one big thing weighing me down . . .

"I don't know."

I look up, surprised by Ha-san's answer. He goes on quietly, contemplating the ember of his cigarette, "I don't know if I can tell her. I don't know what she would say. I don't know what she would think. It's forbidden for an outsider to know the secret, but . . . it's so hard to keep a secret like this . . . when all I want to do is hold her . . . close."

I frown. Dammit, Ha-san can be depressing. I wouldn't want to be in his situation. The thought of falling for a girl doesn't appeal to me very much, mostly because my mind is already preoccupied and because the burden of keeping the curse a secret, plus the circumstances of the curse would only lead to heartbreak. I hope Ha-san doesn't have to live with such a thing, but I know in the end it's inevitable. I can't say anything though. I'll let him have his happiness now, because this kind of happiness is precious. I trust Ha-san to be strong enough to deal with it on his own and in due time.

"Just do whatever you think is right," I tell him, knowing it's not really a help. Sometimes the best thing to do is say whatever needs to be said. I'm just here for Ha-san. There's nothing more I can do.

What Ha-san says next is disturbing to me. "I don't know what's right anymore."

He stares hard at the ember of his cigarette before crushing it out in the ashtray. I glance at my cigarette and see that it's burned to mostly ash between my fingers. I flick it off and hand it to Ha-san, who butts it out in the ashtray with his. I decide to change the subject, possibly for the worst. But I need to know this, and the only person I can ask is him.

"Ha-san . . . have you ever . . . I don't know . . . done anything with Akito? I mean, you're with him a good part of the time – has he ever made a pass at you?"

So much subtlety. Ha-san stares at me a moment, his face so cold. I can tell from his cold expression that he has done things with Akito. I can tell from his cold expression that he regrets it more than anything. He looks away from me.

"Let me put it this way, Shigure," he says, his voice taking on that tone of an older brother who knows best, laced with darkness and experience. "Stay away from Akito. Don't let yourself be charmed by him. He's the head of the family and he has more power than anyone gives him credit for."

I think about this for a second. Akito – with his flimsy little body and big strong talk? He has made Ha-san do things that I could never have done, and I think it must be in the eye of the beholder. Akito isn't powerful if I don't believe he is. And I don't. He's just a sickly, but gorgeous little boy. That's all.

I smile at Ha-san. "Yes, Ha-san. Whatever you say."

He meets my eyes again, so serious now I can't help but feel somewhat put in my place when he says, "Don't make a mistake, Shigure. I'm not going to be able to get you out of it."

With words like that how can I not help but feel a little rebellious? I'll do what I want, with who I want. And if I want Akito, I will have him. If Akito wants me, he can have me. And if I am making a mistake, then so be it. I don't need Ha-san's help all the time. I don't need him watching over me like he's my brother. And whatever mistake I make, it won't be the same mistake Ha-san made. I'll see to it.

I smile again and rise from the floor. "I'll see you later, Ha-san." I lean forward and give him a small kiss on the mouth before turning and hopping down from the porch. I make my way through the garden, making sure to look as though I'm going toward my house until I'm out of Ha-san's sight. Then I make a U-turn around the other side of the property and make a beeline straight to you.

Entering your home, I find you squatting on the deck in the sunlight, and you're not alone. I hesitate in the doorway when I see little Yuki standing there with you, my heart faltering its pace as I try to understand what you're doing. A pale songbird is perched on your hand, and you're coaxing him to hold out his hand and take the bird. A very innocent display. It actually makes me smile – I almost feel like a father when I see this. What an odd feeling.

"Akito-san." I disrupt the scene after watching it for a bit, making my voice low and quiet. You and Yuki look up, and you smile so happily at me, pushing up to your feet. The bird leaves Yuki's hand and he keeps his eyes on the floor, waiting to be dismissed.

"You may go now, Yuki."

The boy hurries to leave, meeting me halfway as I enter the room, but I stop him before he can get by. I've often found it hard to believe that this is Aya's younger brother, even harder to understand why Aya doesn't claim him at all. He's a very sweet child. I go out of my way to be nice to him sometimes. I suppose I feel a certain amount of guilt on Aya's behalf.

"Yuki-kun, I brought you something."

He glances at me suspiciously. He doesn't say much when in your presence. I've always noticed this. I've heard some rather horrible things about the two of you, but I've never seen anything with my own two eyes. I choose to believe what I want for now.

"Here!" I withdraw a lollipop from my robe. I stole it from Ha-san's office earlier, intent on having it myself while I finished editing my manuscript. But I suppose a kid is more deserving of it.

Yuki stares at it as if sure it's poisoned. I suppose I'm making him feel like more of a child than he really is. He's only . . . what? Thirteen? Not exactly a child. He takes the sweet anyway though, a soft arigatou leaving his lips before he makes his way out of the room. I sigh, wishing there were more I could do for him . . .

When I turn back to you I find you with your back turned, leaning in the doorway as you pretend to contemplate the changing leaves. I walk up beside you and look at them as well. Somewhere in the distance I can hear Momiji singing . . . and is that Kyo-kun and Ha-kun fighting? As sad as this family is, trapped here by our fear, cursed by our own greed, I can safely say I am happy to be here. At least in moments like this.

"Tell me about your day," you say at last, lifting your thin hand for an incoming songbird to light on. I have always been amazed by your rapport with birds.

"Nothing to tell. You've been on my mind all day. I'm starting to think you're like those western spirits . . . who possess artists with desire and then drive them mad."

You laugh. I look to you with a smile.

"Are you going mad, Shigure?"

I reach out to take your hand, frightening the bird away as I twine my fingers with yours and step closer to you. "I must be," I tell you, Ha-san's warning still on my mind. To hell with Ha-san. To hell with mistakes.

"I think so," you agree, tilting your face to me as I kiss you.

 

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I'm gonna make a mistake
I'm gonna do it on purpose
I'm gonna waste my time...
And when the day is done, and I look back
And the fact is I had fun, fumbling around
All the advice I shunned, and I ran
Where they told me not to run, but I sure had fun, so
I'm gonna fuck it up again
-"A Mistake," Fiona Apple