In the afternoon, the doctor carried out his routine checkup and in a discrete tone so common to his occupation , told them that Mr Izuko was out of danger and that there was no need to worry.
Mrs Izuko clasped her hands and sank to the plastic seat. Hanami stood by her mother, one hand resting on her shoulder in shared comfort. The boulder pressing on her heart melted into nothingness. She closed her eyes for a moment and opened them to see Arata watching her. He did not utter a word except, "Excuse me." and disappeared down the hallway.
When they were permitted to see Eiji Izuko, Hanami chose to stay back in the hallway. Her mother gave her a look, but did not press further.
"Not going to see him?"Arata asked when he returned and, pressed a can of tea in her hand.
She shook her head, keeping her gaze lowered to the green metallic surface of the tea can. It was warm and felt good between her palms.
"Why not?"
"I won't know what to say..."
He leaned against the wall, flicking the tab open to take a sip. "Don't say anything. Just go look."
She glanced towards the door. A white block of wood with a porthole beyond which her father lied. Old and tired.
"We never spoke to each other, you know..." Hanami pulled at the tab, popping it open. Her throat warmed with the drink. "He wanted a boy. And all he got was me. Mother was sick, I made her sick he said. So they couldn't have a son."
A tug to her hair made her look up. She heard a crackling sound behind her ear. Arata held up a small piece of decorative tape- with pink hearts on green background. She stared at it, remembering the fairy lights still on in their apartment, the Christmas yet to be celebrated.
"Go see him. Then we can go home, mhm?"
Hanami stared at the floor for a few minutes, hesitant, then ran a hand through her nest of a hair and stepped towards the door. Her heart hammered inside her chest. The door handle felt cold to touch. She took a deep breath and entered.
Her mother sitting by her father's side in silence, looked up, eyes wide and softened with moisture. Hanami stared at her as she always did in her father's presence as a child- asking her mother to mediate, to stay. But knowing she was no longer a child, she steeled herself and stepped closer to the bed.
Mrs Izuko bent to her husband and whispered, "Dear... Hana is here to see you."
He did not respond. The monitor kept beeping in the background. Her mother rose and passed by Hanami, quietly leaving the room.
Hanami stood by the foot of the bed for a beat, looking over the weakened man. His skin pale, eyes closed, hands pierced with needles. Circling the bed, she made her way to a small sitting stool and sat down with her hands clasped together.
Neither of them moved. She listened to the dripping sound of the IV, the consistent beep of the monitor and the rustle of the wind outside. It was snowing again.
"Are you warm enough?"left her lips.
A clump of snow dusted off a branch outside.
"I'm glad you are well, father."
He did not answer.
Hanami sat there for a long time, simply looking out the window, watching the wall of pure white that was the world outside. When she eventually rose to leave, she gave him another look and was surprised at the tenderness and affection that bubbled in her heart despite years of hurt and resentment. Perhaps, he was simply a stubborn old man in her eyes now.
Her hand gently came to rest on his. "I'm leaving, father... Take care of yourself and don't worry too much, alright?"
This time, her answer was not silence.
"You are just like your mother,"he said. "Just like your silly mother."
Hanami looked at him.
"We just care too much,"she said, and left the room.
Outside, she met the store manager and inquired about the bills.
"Ah, Mr Miyama took care of that,"he said. "Everything is cleared."
"When?"
"A while ago."
She blinked and looked at the empty seats in the hallway. "Where is he?"
"In the visitor's lounge."
She nodded a thanks and made her way to the said room. The moment she stepped in, some ongoing discussion came to a halt. Both her mother and Arata looked at her as if they possed a common knowledge that she didn't.
"You paid the bills?"she asked, a little irked. "I appreciate it, but you didn't have to. I would've paid them."
"I thought there were bigger issues that needed your attention than the bills."He looked confused."Why are you angry?"
Her cheeks heated. "I'm not angry. It's just that– you don't have to do everything. Especially when it's my responsibility. Let me do take care of what's mine, please. I can do things as well."
"When did I say you can't?"
"Your actions say it all too well."
An exasperated look came over his face.He stood, nodded to Mrs Izuko and excused himself.
When the man was gone, she crossed her arms and looked at her mother. A disapproving look was sent her way. She lingered with a pout, then settled down by her mother.
She asked, "How did it go with your father?"
Hanami did not answer the question. Instead asked her own. "Do you love him?"
Her mother went silent, though a small smile tugged at her thin lips. "After all these years, I've learnt to."
"You know, When I was younger, I always saw him shouting at you, telling you off. He was never happy with us.He hated when we laughed, when we spoke a little louder. I always thought it was all because of me... " Hanami looked at the seat where Arata was sitting a few moments ago, realizing in the middle of the conversation that the anger had been directed at the wrong person. She shook her head. "Do you remember those porcelain dolls he collected?"
"Mhm, we still have them in the cupboard. Even the one you broke."
"I broke that doll on purpose... I saw him smiling at the dolls and I was jealous. I thought,' Why couldn't he smile at us like that?'"
Her mother placed a loving hand on her head, brushing the messy clump of hair. Hanami,having missed the touch for years, lowered her head to her mother's lap. "He's still the same now."
"I know... " The hand kept moving soothingly. "No matter what your father thinks though, I am proud of you.And you are loved by many. Count those, I've always told you this. And don't hurt them."
Hanami straightened. "...I'll go talk to Arata."
"Ah, not Mr Miyama?"
She laughed, "Makes him feel old."
On their way to Tokyo Arata was quiet. As he drove, a cigarette rested between his lips, sending puffs of smoke. The windows were open and sent crisp gusts of air inside. She shivered and folded her arms, ducking her chin into the pocket formed by her scarf. Noticing this, Arata let out a loud huff. He killed the cigarette glow and slid the windows shut.
Hanami rubbed her palms in an attempt to warm.
"I'm sorry." She glanced at him. "I got upset for no reason."
As always, he swerved away from the apology. "Did it go alright with your father?"
She gave him a small smile. "As well as it could go... By the way, What were you and Mother talking about?"
"Nothing much. She was telling me about your school days... " He gave her a look, "She said you were a chubby little girl who wasn't the best at sports and looked like those round dolls. I said it was hard to believe."
Hanami flushed at the comment. "Why were you even talking about that?"
"Your mother loves talking about you."
She looked out the window, still red in cheeks. "Arata...?"
"Mhm?"
"You helped me so much without asking. I can't thank you enough..." She turned and touched his arm, gentle gaze turned to him. "You're a kind person even if you don't look like it."
Arata shook his head, a smile tugging his lips. "I don't look like it, hm?"
When they returned home hours later, exhausted, the glimmer of lights welcomed them. The house, although dark, showed spots of gold on the ceiling and the pearl gray light that reflected off of the snow.
Hanami smiled warmly and turned to look at him. "See? It is beautiful, no?"
He smiled at her. "You really do look like a doll."
Taken off guard, she stared at him, a tender shyness coming over her. She turned away from the man and focused her attention on the lights. Feeling right at home.
✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽