The most surprising thing was, Mitsui actually took it in stride and shrugged it off, as if he understood that Captain Akagi was just under immense pressure. A few weeks ago he would've started a war of words with Akagi without a doubt.
My body is aching from all the running and jumping and sprinting, but I feel surprisingly good. I could still play after a few hours of Akagi's intense workout; I missed only three shots out of ten in the 'I'm going to die' mode, when I usually miss half of them.
When I reach home at 9.30 p.m., my mother is watching a Kurosawa Akira film. It's about samurai and it's in black and white. "Seven Samurai". It's pretty good. I saw it when I was fourteen and I entertained the notion of going into film-making for a few minutes, until I remembered I want to play basketball. Forever.
My mother looks up from the television screen after I drop my bag on the sofa. She gestures for me to sit down while riveting her gaze back to the film.
I sit. She's at the part where the village girl and the young samurai have a little rendezvous in the forest. I thought it was pretty sweet then. Now? I simply scoff at it.
"Kaede," my mom says, her eyes still glued to the television screen. "We're going to your grandma's this Friday. It's her birthday. Okay?"
"What?"
"Your grandma's. Friday. Celebrate birthday."
I can't believe my ears. More importantly, I can't believe her. How can she just drop a bomb onto my lap like this and still have the heart to watch television? I understand it's Kurosawa Akira and all, but give me a break! This is serious!
"Just out of the blue like that?"
She finally realises my sligh distress. Pressing 'pause' on the cheap VCD player we bought at a jumble sale a few months ago (one of the few times the old mom was actually sober), she turns to look at me, giving me her full attention.
"It's your grandmother's birthday. We should be there to celebrate it with her."
"But we didn't go last year," I protest. I really don't want to do it. I can already imagine how awkward things will be between us and my extended family. It's too much of a hassle and I don't want to deal with it.
"Exactly," she explains patiently. "Which is why we should go this year. Especially since we're perfectly capable of doing so."
"But," I protest again. "It's going to be so weird."
She sighs. "Weird or not, they're family. And she's my mother. We have to be there."
I ball my fist in frustration. She's not going to change her mind, no matter how many counter-arguments I come up with. I gues I have no choice then.
"I have a match on Saturday though. We have to come back early so that we can rest."
My mother smiles. She scurries over to where I'm seated and plants a kiss on my forehead, as though I were a six-year-old child who has finally stopped crying for the ice-cream he's not getting.
"I knew you'd understand," she says, beaming. "You're playing against Kainan, right? Number one team in Kanagawa?"
I raise my eyebrows. "How do you know?"
"Anzai-sensei told me the other day."
Well, duh, Kaede. "Oh."
"I have classes that day but I can take the day off if you want me there. Do you?"
I lift one shoulder. "It's okay. Just show up for the Inter-High."
She smiles again. My mother has a really nice smile. It's warm and bright, just like sunshine. "Deal. We'll leave early if it gets really weird, okay?"
"Okay."
*****
Am I happy about dragging myself to my grandma's and meeting relatives whom I haven't seen in ages and pretending to care when I couldn't begin to give a shit either way about their existence as it's been so obvious that the feeling is mutual? Not to mention wasting time on a pointless family gathering where everyone smiles like crocodiles and conceal the knife in their words behind their hypocritical smiles when I could be using that time practicing my game and getting myself into shape for the battle against Kainan.
No, I'm not happy about it at all. But it seems to mean so much to my mother. I mean, it is her mother. I would want to go too if it were my mother.
The rest of the family? I'd just ignore them and get on with life.
*****
"You have to leave?"
That's Akagi exclaiming, but almost everyone in the team is staring at me with slightly bigger eyes than usual. Except, of course, the do'ahou, who, for some reason, has a triumphant smirk on his face.
"Yes."
"Rukawa, the game is tomorrow!" Akagi says with clear exasperation in his voice. "You can't just take off like that in the middle of practice!"
"It's my grandmother's birthday. My mother wants me at the celebration."
Akagi seems to be stunned into silence. He is gaping at me like a goldfish.
I don't blame him, really. Tomorrow is our big game, and we have to be in the best condition, or we can definitely forget about winning. And here I am, super rookie of the team, announcing that I have to leave in the middle of practice.
It's not like I'm jumping with joy that I have to do this. In fact, I think it downright stinks. Who wants to spend a perfectly fine evening in a stuffy house full of weird strangers whom you could really care less about and a bunch of annoying, screaming kids who'd make you want to rip out your organs and intestines one by one the very minute they open their disgusting mouths? Nobody. As in, nobody. Unless you're a masochist.
Unfortunately, my mother is one such masochist.
It really sucks to be me sometimes.
Captain Akagi seems to have finally
snapped out of his state of shock. "You can't get out of it?"
Not even if I got down on my knees and begged. I shake my head.
Captain Akagi sighs in resignation. He's looking positively unhappy about this.
"Fine. Go. Just make sure you're fit for tomorrow and don't be late for the game. And don't forget the game strategy we agreed on either. You still remember it?"
I nod. Of course I remember. How can I possibly forget? He's been drilling it into everyone's minds since we agreed on it.
"Good," he continues. "Well, have fun at your grandmother's, I guess. Don't ever do this again. I'm really not comfortable with it."
"Won't happen again," I promise.
*****
My mother is waiting for me in a cab when I walk out of the school building and to the main road, where she told me to meet her. She opens the door for me from the inside.
I have to bend down really low in order to get into the car. And then, we're off.
"Hey," I say.
"Hi Kaede," she answers. "Had any trouble coming out?"
I lean my head against the window and stare out at the outside world. "Don't get me started," I mutter.
At the other end of the taxi, my mother chuckles. "Okay, we won't talk about it." she reaches over and pats my hand. "Thanks for doing this. It really means a lot."
My heart softens. I was all ready to give her the cold shoulder to make my displeasure felt, but after those words, no human being can possibly stay angry.
"It's nothing."
*****
I must have fallen asleep in the taxi, because the next thing I know, we're pulling into a long and seemingly endless driveway, flanked by blooming flowers and other plants on both sides. Up ahead is a mansion.
No, correction. It's a huge mansion. It's unlike anything I've ever seen in my life. It almost resembles something out of a classic fairytale with its sprawling height of a whopping four storeys; its full-length glass windows that reach the floor, as if protecting something delicate; and its elaborate, almost over-the-top exterior design.
The first thing I noticed when we were pulling into the driveway was the fountain that stands in the middle of a well-kept, relatively pretty garden. It's too tacky for my taste, but I suppose any normal person would appreciate or even fawn over the immaculately-cut grass, the wild array of flowers grown and just the overall mad dash of colours produced. There are so many different species of flowers here that my grandmother can open a bloody nursery if she so desires. They come in violet, blood red, white, yellow and pink, reminding me of, well, an uncreative painter who produces watercolour works merely for commercial purposes, without any implicit intentions whatsoever.
Such 'artists' are the ones I scoff at and look down upon. But let's not get into that right now.
I never knew that my grandmother was rich. But then, there are lots of things about my extended family that I'm clueless about. And frankly speaking? I don't really care.
I step out of the taxi and take in the sight before me. It's overwhelming, admittedly; having been to Europe doesn't quite mean that I'm used to posh places. In fact, it goes without saying that it's quite the opposite.
My mother pays he driver his due, and soon, the two of us are left alone on a long and endless tretch of concrete, whose end is unknown to both of us.
My mother takes in a deep breath and throws a lop-sided grin my way. It's supposed to be reassuring, but the slight trembling of her lips gives the game away.
She's nervous. Probabyl regretting her decision.
All I can say is, I told you so.
"Well," she says. "We're here!"
She's trying to sound cheerful, probably more for her sake than mine, but I don't buy it. Not at all.
I don't answer her. I watch my mother clasp and unclasp her hands, wipe non-existant sweat on her palms off on her trousers, all the while keeping absolutely silent.
I'm waiting for her to make the first move. The first move towards the front door of her mother's residence, where we would be welcomned into a world of unknown relations and strained politeness.
Gee. I can hardly wait.
Finally, after what feels like a lifetime watching my mother go into panic mode, she begins to walk in the direction of the front door. At first, her pace is her usual steady one, but as she gets nearer and nearer to her destination, her footsteps start to slinker and cower away.
God, this is insane. It's just a bunch of old people waiting for us. What's there to be afraid of?
Impatiently, I stride towards the front door, not caring if my mother is happy with it. She brought us here; now she's going to have to face the music.
We're at the front door now. The door appears to be made of an expensive wood whose name I cannot place. That, or it's an imitation, but I don't think that's too likely.
I reach up to press the doorbell, and just when my finger is about to come in contact with the buzzer, my mother suddenly grabs my arm.
"Wait!" she hisses. She's looking very worried all of a sudden. "We can't go in!"
"What?" Is she crazy? She dragged me out of a very important basketball practice session just to come all the way to her mother's mansion that we can't go into? What a waste of precious practice time!
"I forgot a birthday present!"
Oh. So that's it. And I thought it was something major.
"So?" I answer. Turning away from her, I press the doorbell for real this time, causing my poor mother to let out a soft cry. She digs her fingernails painfully into my exposed skin as we wait for a response.
When the door finally opens, it definitely isn't a face I expected to see that greets us. In fact, you can't get any further from the exact opposite than this. Instead of an old, wrinkly face, I'm met with the youthful face of a girl who's probably in her late teens.
I'm dumbfolded. Talk about surprise number two! I stare at the girl in surprise, not saying a word and she looks expectantly back, waiting for me to do... whatever it is that she's expecting me to do.
Luckily, my mother jumps in and saves the day.
"Hi. We're here for the celebration? You must be the maid."
Okay. So accuse me of being slow on the uptake. But how was I supposed to know that she's the servant? It's not like I'm that well-acquainted with rich people. In fact, I'm not. And I don't wish to ever be, but apparently, I haven't got much of a choice.
"Oh, yes, come on in," the girl says and opens the door a little wider, wide enough for us to pass through.
Now, if I was overwhelmed with the house's exterior, all I can say is, Kaede, you ain't seen nothing yet. The interior is glamourous, and that's not covering even half of it. The house can be converted into a goddamn museum by its sheer massive size and the assortment of antiques lying around everywhere. And right in the centre of the living room hangs a chandlier made of crystals that change colour with the different slants of sunlight falling onto them.
Oh, and who can forget the disgusting bear rug that greets your feet the moment you step into the place?
"Big house," my mother mutters beside me. "Definitely bigger than the last one."
"Hn," I reply. The living room is surprisingly empty. I thought it would be filled with people, but apparently, the people are in a special room somewhere at the back of the house, because the girl is leading us somewhere else. She pushes open a set of heavy-duty doors and smiles at us.
"There you go! Have fun!"
My mother and I look at each other. Then, she shrugs and takes a deep breath.
"Well, here goes nothing," she says, and steps into the room.
I don't really know what I expected. I mean, I certainly didn't expect pulsing rock music blasting from numerous stereos lined up side-by-side against the wall and a moshpit of bodies gyrating to the rhythm, but I didn't quite expect something so... tame either.
There are people in the room, all right. People of all ages, from infants to teenagers to adults. They are all sitting around, sipping from porcelain cups with intricate designs, talking away.
At first, our presence seems to appear unnoticed. Then, without any prior warning whatsoever, somebody screams my mother's name.
"Mika! Oh my! Is that really you?"
I watch as my mother's face breaks into a tentative but hopeful smile.
"Vira!"
So that's the woman on the phone the other day. Unsurprisingly, she doesn't look familiar at all.
The Vira woman scurries over and makes a big production of embracing my mother and exclaiming how good she looks, yadayadayada, and I'm beginning to think I can just sneak out and nobody would notice until she turns to me.
"And Kaede!" she gushes annoyingly, clasping my hands in hers. "All grown up! And so handsome, too!"
I bite back the word that almost escapes my mouth -- do'ahou -- and try my best not to scowl. This is going to be one long, painful evening.
By now everyone in the room has noticed us, all thanks to Vira and her loud voice. Interestingly enough, my mother doesn't seem to feel as out of place as I do; she's actually chatting with that Vira woman, looking as though she's finally regained the home that she's lost.
Good for her, I guess.
I receive more "hey, Kaede!"s and "good to see you!"s from uncles I never think about, more polite smiles from cousins I don't remember, and I'm starting to think I've entered the twilight zone, when I see my grandmother.
She's eighty-nine this year, but she certainly doesn't look her age. And all of a sudden, I'm seeing a brief image in my mind's eye, transient and intangible as magic, of a kind, benevolent face, smiling at me as if I were the brightest light in the world.
Somebody pushes me forward, and I'm too taken off-guard to resist. I find myself standing right in front of my grandmother, with her daughter by my side.
She looks at me. And then, she smiles.
"Ah, Kaede-kun," she says. "Nice to see you."
I don't know how to react. So I just blurt out the first thing that pops into my head.
"Happy birthday."
I need not get any further than that, thankfully, for centre stage soon belongs to my mother. I watch from the sidelines once again as my mother embraces her mother, tears streaming freely down her face, and she's become the daughter once more.
And maybe that's what she truly needs, after all these years.
A/N: Actually wrote this a few months ago. Was just too lazy to type it.
iNsAnEbEl: Aww you didn't like the hamster essay? Whyyyy? Haha um just kidding. :) Heh, I'm bored during Maths lessons too. I pity my Maths teacher actually. Only 3 people in my class passed the most recent test (and I was one of them! Woo!). And a lot of us still have not handed in our summation assignment, which was supposed to be handed in before the test. I haven't actually done it... bwahahahahahahahahaha.
lambie: 'Rather lame'? Uh, I'd say very lame... =) Ok that's lame. Thanks.
KISS is the best: Yah yah yah kiss my ass lah.
kaesaku: Hey! Thanks for stopping by. Heh sorry it isn't yaoi but yeah, couldn't make myself turn it yaoi. But it would be nice, wouldn't it? A RuMit... mmmmmmm. Thanks again for the reviews.
sLL: Hey, you're back! Yay! *throws balloons in air* You ever going to continue your Mitsui story? You better. I want to read it. Anyway no I don't watch Samurai X. The story and the timeslot don't appeal to me. But um... my brother watches it though! That baka watches just about any crap on the telly. Anyway yeah thanks for the reviews too. Really appreciate it. =)
Hate to say this but the next update would probably take place after another hundred years. Nowadays there's something wrong with my brains. I can't write the way I used to. (I'm serious.) Oh well, whatever. We'll see how things go.
Have a nice day.
-Yelen