______________________________________________________________________________________

When I had been given care over him, I had been shocked and a little bit suspicious. Indeed, this was not a job that the others would typically give me. It wasn't because I was not capable of doing so, it was more that I was surprised they would actually let me do it when they could very easily do it themselves.

It just took me by surprise, I suppose. It just seemed so odd to me, because when those three wanted something done right, they were "Then I'll just do it myself," people.

Still... I couldn't really complain. It wasn't as if he really needed someone to baby-sit for him anyway, but I didn't really mind the job. It just made me wonder, that was all. Petz had been acting very strangely since the day she had taken off last week, and it made me suspicious. At first, I had laughed with Beruche, thinking that it was that she had found a new man and was playing hooky with him. I was somewhat relieved -- of the four of us, Petz had been the one to never show any interest in men. I had originally thought that it was just because Petz didn't really like the male species in general; they were all too shallow and superficial to my dear oneesan. However, Calaveras had later confided to me that it was really because no one Petz ever met could really measure up to the father of her child.

That mystified me -- Petz was still in love with Saffir? Saffir who-has-been-dead-for-the-past-sixteen-years Saffir? It just baffled me; why would Petz continue to love someone who had died such a long time ago? And Saffir, of all people?

I suppose I never really knew him, and there's not a lot I can say against him or the fact that sheâs still infatuated with him. I mean, I was in love with Rubeus, and they have never let me forget that. It's a family joke by now -- when we go out, and see a tall, handsome red-head they nudge me and giggle -- but still, my memory of him makes me uncomfortable. Actually, my memories of that time in general make me uncomfortable.

I suppose, though, what Saffir and Petz had had was possibly more real than the lies that I had had with Rubeus. It's a painful thought, but when I remember what Saffir was like...

He was... different. You could tell he didn't really belong the second you saw him. It was in the way he stood, so very obviously an academic and not a warrior. The way his eyes darted about rooms, suspecting every shadow. The way he badgered Prince Demando-sama about everything, yet got away with it, when the Prince would have never allowed anyone else to question him the way Saffir did.

He had stood out on that cold, little bleak world, though it seemed to me he usually tried to meld into the background -- because he would learn more that way. Curious.

I had very rarely talked to Saffir; truth was, I actually saw his superior more than I did him. Of the four highest ranking members of the family -- Rubeus the general, Esmeraude the field-marshal, Saffir the tactician prince, and Demando, Sovereign Prince and Ruler of Nemesis -- I had seen Rubeus the most often, Saffir the least. Typically I would see the ao no ouji in his brother's audience chamber. He spoke very rarely, generally only when he was spoken to. He seemed far more interested in listening between the lines of everything that was said amongst the group, and I envied him this talent. But still, the silent prince had unnerved me, and I had been happy not to have much to do with him. It made my life easier.

Rubeus had certainly never spoken of him in glowing terms, either; he called him useless, an ornament. He told us again and again that he couldn't understand what use the Prince would have for his little brother. Indeed, he believed that it was because of his family lineage that Saffir was anywhere in the Black Moon hierarchy.

With a sigh, I noticed that Koutaishi had finally gotten up. It was Sunday, and a fair weathered day at that. I had been hoping that he wasn't planning on spending the whole day in bed -- it was my only day of the week off and I wanted to get outside and have some fun.

Koutaishi finally stumbled into the kitchen, where I sat at the table, sipping coffee. He wore ridiculously oversized pajamas, which he professed to love. It always made me laugh to see him in them, however.

"Ohayoo, Koutaishi-kun," I said mildly, not looking up from my paper. I felt him sit down opposite me, picking up the other half of the paper I was not reading.

"Ohayoo, obasan," he replied, just as mildly, not really paying a lot of attention to me. I got the impression he hadnât looked at me properly -- he had stopped calling his aunts "obasan" years ago, instead preferring our names over the endearment. The fast that he called me "obasan" meant that he hadn't gotten a good look at me and wasn't sure who I was.

Finally he looked up over the rim of his paper, blinking his wide eyes at me. "Where's my mother, Cooan-san?"

I sipped my coffee before replying. "She went to work with Beruche and Calaveras. She possibly won't be back until dinner time."

"So it's just me and you, ne?" he asked, turning his eyes back to the paper.

I nodded, turning the page of my half. "I suppose so, unless you have plans with your friends."

"Nothing that can't wait -- I haven't spent any 'quality time' with you in a while, Cooan-san. Are you going to hang out here all day, or do you want to entertain me?"

I finally put down my paper, and I laced my fingers together, leaning my chin on them. I looked at Koutaishi, finally really looked at him. Over the years, I had come to train myself not to see the parts of him that were of the Black Moon Family, instead looking for the Ayakashi in him.

However, it was impossible for me to now look at him and not see the resemblance. I supposed it was because of what I had seen on the news the other night -- finally, Hirosada Mankichi, consummate politician, had been romantically linked to a woman. One who had to be years younger than him, given her appearance. However, she did have an air about her that indicated her maturity... and she looked familiar, somehow.

Later, Beruche had confided to me that she thought it had been Tomoe Hotaru, and startled, I agreed with her. We hadn't seen much of the girl since Usagi-san had introduced her to us years beforehand, but armed with her name, I knew it was her. I wondered what she was doing with Demando.

Thinking that his brother had finally gone on with his life, I could now see clearly just where the child of Saffir and Petz got his extraordinary looks from. Even though his eyes were the same crystalline azure blue as Beruche's, his hair was as pale and silvery as Demando's had been, though he wore it in a manner more akin to his father. He had attained his uncle's height, though he was built a bit more slenderly, more like his father, whom Koutaishi would probably tower over by two inches.

There was more of the brothers in him than I cared to admit, though Koutaishi had never really asked about his father. When he was younger, he had. Over the years, he had come to realise that we were never going to tell him anything solid, and if he wanted answers, he had to pester his mother. And he didn't do that -- because Petz would, in all likeliness, start to cry at the mention of his dead father.

We had given him a name, there was that much. Hirosada Saburo. We had taken the last name from Demando's Earthen identity, made up the first one and hoped that if Demando ever found it out, he wouldn't mind us playing God to his little brother.

Koutaishi used a long, slender finger to flick a strand of hair out of his eye, and cocked his head to one side. "What's up, Cooan-san? You look... pensive."

I sighed, not really wanting to divulge my reasons. Frankly, I didn't even understand why I had such a problem with it in the end. I mean, if Demando wanted to move on with his life finally, I had no right to stop him. Even if it was with a Senshi. I couldn't understand why it bothered me so -- I had told Petz repeatedly to move on, but somehow, I had preferred Demando to mourn his brother forever. Getting married and having children of his own just seemed selfish to me. Selfish because his brother was dead because of him, and Demando didn't deserve peace and contentment when Saffir was dead and my sister still mourned him even though sixteen years had passed...

"It's nothing," I replied, and then said it again, as if by repeating it, it would make it more solid, more real. "It's nothing."

I could see that I hadn't convinced him. If there was one thing that he had most definitely inherited from his father, it was his intelligence. Even though his colouring was paler than his father, he actually looked like Saffir more than anyone else. Especially when he looked at people, his features tense and paranoid. It was almost like turning back the clock and watching Saffir give his oniisan the exact same look. "It doesn't look like nothing to me, Cooan-san."

"Just...old ghosts, you know?" I said, putting my coffee cup down to hide the trembling of my hands. "I just don't want to talk about it."

He sighed, the sigh of an old man. "I suppose it's about my father, isn't it?"

My jaw dropped, but he continued before I could think of any kind of intelligent rebuttal. "You know, I've always thought it increasingly strange how you three have never answered any of my questions, instead preferring to dance around them. I mean, mother has been easier to read than a book -- it hurts her something chronic to talk about him. But you three... it's like you just don't know what to say about him. Why is that?"

Inwardly, I cursed. Why had they stuck me with this job? Trust Fate to leave me alone with Koutaishi on the day he finally began to demand some straight answers. I decided that his forthrightness was an inheritance from Demando -- and if I ever saw that man again, I was going to throttle him. "Koutaishi-kun, I don't know what to say..."

"How about the truth?" he asked softly, leaning over the table to catch my eyes. I stared into the cerulean of the child, and wondered. Wondered how they could appear as shadowy and as troubled as Saffir's always had, even though his were pale blue, and Saffir's had been of the duskiest sapphire hue. "None of you like to talk about him; I have never even seen a picture of him. All I know is that his name was Hirosada Saburo and he died sixteen years ago. He and my mother were never married, though mother has implied that they were going to marry." Koutaishi finally looked away, retreating back to his chair. "Cooan-san, I know you don't really want to be the one to tell me anything, but honestly -- donât you think it's time that all walls of deception should fall?"

I was tongue-tied. It was just like the last conversation I had ever had with Saffir. He had pressed me for answers about Rubeus and his activities in much the same way his son now pressured me, with calm decorum and surprising gentleness.

Koutaishi stood up, looking away from me. "I'm sorry you had to be the one, Cooan-san... but it's been so long. Why can none of you talk about him, or what became of him? It's like... it's almost as if it shames you to speak his name, to remember him."

"That's not true," I said finally, managing to push the words out with great difficulty. "We just always thought it was more your mother's place than ours..."

Koutaishi shook his head. "I can tell that you're lying, but I don't know how to convince you to tell me the truth. I suppose I shall never know, but if it cannot be helped..." He shrugged, almost helplessly. "It cannot be helped."

He then turned and walked from the kitchen, and a second later, I heard his bedroom door close lightly. I marvelled at that. How could he have become so decorously aristocratic, even when he had not been raised as a prince, as he should have been?

Family resemblance, a little voice whispered in my ear. Demando and Saffir always acted as controlled and as tranquil as this child now does.... he is their child more than yours.

I shivered, brushing away the thought, though I could honestly see the truth in the observation. He was more like his uncle and his father than his mother and his aunts. We were impulsive, loud, outgoing. Koutaishi had always been an academic, finding solace in his studies, which he excelled at. He also had a keen interest in politics, though we had always tried to steer him away from that career path. We had just counted ourselves lucky he had never made the connection between Hirosada Mankichi, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and Hirosada Saburo, his mysterious father. We reasoned with ourselves that if he had, he had just brushed it off as coincidence. After all, there were probably thousands of Hirosadas in Japan.

With a sigh, I stood up, taking my cup over to the sink. I tipped out the coffee I no longer wanted, and then placed it in the dishwasher. Going to the sliding glass doors, I opened them and went out onto the balcony. I had to marvel at the way the dark clouds on the horizon had ballooned -- they had been barely visible earlier.

Still, the air was humid, the air pensive, as if the city were holding its breath. I sighed -- this city had a tendency towards the melodramatic, or so it seemed to me. Every time something peculiar happened, the city would react to it, with appropriate weather or general public hysteria.

Sighing, I felt Koutaishi's presence move to join mine as I stood there in silence. He was the one to speak first, which I found strange. Saffir had never been one to open conversations, and Koutaishi bore more resemblance to his father than his more forthright uncle.

"Gomen, obasan... I just wanted to know, that's all."

I nodded. Frankly, I could understand his desire to know what was going on in his family, and why no-one would ever tell him just what had happened to his father. Put in his position, I think I would react in much the same way. "I can understand that, Kou-kun. However, I am honestly not in any position to tell you anything about your father... he is someone your mother knew well, and she is the one who should explain him to you."

Koutaishi nodded, though I could sense quite easily that he was unconvinced. "What are you doing today, Cooan-san?"

I sighed. "I had thought about going out for the day, to the park and things, just to relax... but the weather looks lousy. I think I'm just going to stay at home, do a bit of work. But, if you want to do something..."

I let my words hang in the air, to see how he would reply. His eyes were looking elsewhere, over the bay, so I couldn't search there for his feelings. "Some of my friends yesterday mentioned going out to the movies as a group. I think I'll do that, obasan."

I nodded, a little disappointed. I had hoped to spend the day with him, and the others had asked me to keep an eye on him, though I didn't understand why. He was a teenager, who would be fine on his own... I didn't know WHY Petz was so worried about him.

I stared upward at the sky for a moment, and whistled. "If you go out, you'd better take a jacket. Those clouds look terrible -- I can't believe how fast they blew up!"

"Maybe it's a sign," he replied, and I laughed. Well, I laughed until I saw the seriousness on his face. Then, my laughter died.

Koutaishi sighed. "I'm serious. Can't you feel it? There's something in the air here."

I smiled, almost idiotically. "I don't know what you mean."

"I didn't think you would -- I had the feeling that this day was meant for me alone." With that, he turned and left the balcony. I noted with distaste the way that he resembled Demando in his movements; fluid and graceful, he moved like a sovereign. Saffir had always been more tense, more strained as he walked anywhere, but most especially in the presence of Esmeraude.

As I stood above the streets, I saw him leave, dressed in a long black coat, his silver hair standing out against the gloom of the lighting. I couldn't believe how quickly the weather had changed.

For a second, I wondered if he had been right. Something peculiar was happening here, and the city was reacting to it. I almost went after him, suspecting that this was precisely the reason that the other three had insisted I stay near Koutaishi. I should have followed him.

Maybe, if I had, things would have turned out differently.

To Chapter Four

Back to the Index