So, today is special. I just can’t remember why. It was something important, though. Wait… I got it! Today was the day I would lead my army of Orangu-Men to conquer Yukon! To me, sons of Sigmar! For the Empire!
…Oh. Right. Hanachan’s birthday is today. As my birthday present, I present (heh) the following birthday one shot. It comes with a bit of a warning, though:
Anyone who is going to read this and is reading my summer series (pretty much all of you, I’d wager) are strongly encouraged to read this post:
http://ks.renai.us/viewtopic.php?f=52&t ... 91#p131125
Now, as you can see, my prequel has a bit of a connection to that chapter, or at least a reference made within it. If you feel like you’d rather not expose yourself to possible spoilers from reading this special, you are of course free to wait until the summer series is concluded. Though this will likely affect my readership, I consider the tradeoff of responsible authorship worth it. Now on with the show!
Oh, and this fic takes place the year after Mystery Twelve, so Refia is a little over three or nearly three (I think), Akio would be somewhere around eight, and Satomi around six. Now, onward, to cake and the celebratory beverage of your choosing (tea would be nice, I think)!
Sorry, one more thing: this baby is super duper long, so I’m gonna post it in a ton of parts so it won’t break the forum. Hopefully I will succeed in preventing that, after which I will unleash my army… right. Hanako.
Hisao and Family: When She Smiles
“Are we there yet?” my son Akio asked me.
“We get there when we get there,” I replied.
My son was currently a pace ahead of me and my wife, in front of me and to the right of my oldest daughter, Satomi, who was also ahead slightly ahead of us. Standing next to me was my wife, Hanako, who was holding our younger daughter, Refia –who tended to wander if left to her own devices- as we made our way along the city sidewalk on a particularly noteworthy afternoon.
“Are we there yet?” Satomi asked not three minutes later.
“We get there when we get there,” Hanako chided, smirking lightly.
I rolled my eyes and suppressed a sigh, instead glancing at my wife’s attire. I had insisted the night was going to be informal, but she had still opted for a violet skirted suit and matching flatcap. I was just wearing a blue argyle sweater vest and dark brown pants, with a blue buttoned shirt. Akio was wearing more or less the same thing I was, which matched his light brown hair well. Satomi was wearing a bright purple summer dress that matched her hair, while Refia was wearing a pink floral pattern styled outfit, which I’m pretty sure Misha had bought her as a gift.
“We there yet?” our youngest asked a few minutes later.
“We get there when we get there,” Hanako and I stated.
“We are almost there,” I added.
“Will Aunt Misha and Shicchan be there?” Akio asked.
“Yes,” Hanako replied, “I think everyone we invited was able to make it. Even Emi and Kwan.”
I nodded, “it has been a while for those two. Then again, it was a while before we saw Miki again.”
Hanako sighed and nodded.
“Mimi and Natsu, too?” Refia asked.
“Yep,” I replied, slowing my pace to smile at her. She had Hanako’s eyes, and purple hair that was a shade lighter then her mother’s.
“Will they bring Maki-chan?” Satomi asked.
“They will,” I said, wondering briefly if they would; their daughter was rather shy, oddly enough, “I think.”
“We’ll find out eventually,” Hanako stated, “but a lot of people are coming.”
Hanako glanced at me and smirked. Large crowds did make her a bit uncomfortable, but it was people we knew well, some of whom she hadn’t seen in some time. Speaking of crowds, as we continued along, the sidewalk was started to get crowded as people began leaving work to wander home, or to get a cheap dinner and a cheap drink, or an expensive drink if some of the flamboyant outfits were any indication.
Hanako had positioned Refia against her right side, partially so Refia’s constantly wandering eyes could watch at the various buildings as they passed. Refia’s position combined with the flatcap made it so the only scars you could see were those on her hand, and people were passing by so quickly no one noticed. The energetic trotting of our older children helped too, working as a wedge in the crowd to give us more space and help ease Hanako’s discomfort at being amongst the masses, though not by much.
Despite the apathy of the crowd around us, Hanako was visibly nervous, fidgeting slightly while her eyes darted around her and towards our children. It was completely understandable, of course, and seeing her tense expression and stiff posture reminded me that it had taken quite a lot of time for her to be willing to do something like this. It wasn’t until Akio had been around three, actually, that she was willing to leave the house for this day, and it wasn’t until she was first pregnant she had been willing to leave the bedroom. Some wounds are deep, and take time to heal. Hell, I still didn’t know the whole story of her triggers, and part of me felt I never would.
That was okay, though, because I was there for her, and she was there for me, and we were there for each other, our friends, our family, and all that other sappy cliché stuff I’ve been rambling about forever. My relationships are healthy and mutually beneficial, so sue me. It helps make up for all the insane shenanigans Kenji forces me into.
Just as Satomi and Akio seemed on the verge of asking once again, I pointed half a block away and stated, “There it is.”
Miki’s bar and restaurant looked much like the rest of this section of the city, which had been built in a Meiji style of Western/Asian mix, just before the next block became fully modern construction. The restaurant itself had a large, dark wooden door flanked by two large windows.
“Ready?” I asked Hanako.
Hanako nodded, and I stepped forward to open the door for everyone. Akio and Satomi darted inside, Hanako following close behind. Once she and Refia were through, I followed them, the door closing behind me slowly.
The inside of the restaurant was a weird mix of informal dining and sports bar, with the bar separated on the left side by some double hinged doors and a wall covered in sports schedules and Brazilian paintings. The rest of the establishment was well lit and filled with tables and booths of various sizes and shapes. A row of several dark wooden double doors along the back wall were flanked by more traditional artwork and a few Brazilian-esque sculptures, along with a few other doors, which led to restrooms and employee sections.
In front of us was the hostess’ stand, where a young woman in black pants and matching buttoned shirt with long brown hair smiled and bowed to us in greeting.
“Hey, Mio,” I said.
“Hey, Mr. Nakai!” Mio chirped, then turned to Hanako and declared, “You must be Mrs. Nakai!”