AN: I was originally going to use strikethroughs, but then I found out that FFN took them out years before after I finished and tried uploading. So if you see bold words in between brackets, imagine that they were crossed and scribbled out.

Somewhere far away, somewhere close by, the traffic blared and screeched as drivers stuck their heads out of their cars and vans and trucks and yelled at the pedestrians trudging by them. Above it all from the balcony of an apartment complex, a silhouette cradled a cup, steam wafting from the tea. It turned and walked back inside, all the while rubbing its face. Inside, dawn's blue light gave shape to the battered sofa, the second-hand coffee table and the rusty kitchen sink and outdated fridge. The silhouette sat at the bench and reached for a nearby lamp. Warm yellow light lit up wrinkles and tired eyes. The cup was set aside as the silhouette started reading something again and again and again, eyes slowly flitting over the writing as the mind sifted through old pains and sorrows. When it finally raised its head, the tea had gone cold and the sun had risen.

/\

Dear {Mother} Mrs. Hinazuki

I had wanted to speak to you in person, but it has been so long, and now that I think about it, I am starting to wonder if we will ever come to see each other face to face. And if we never did, I cannot help but wonder if it would not be for the best. Some doors are best left closed. Histories to remain as history.

I hope you are doing well yourself. I mean that with absolute sincerity. It was very hard to find you. I didn't know if you had changed your name as well as your address, and it has been many, many years since I left with Grandmother. I had to ask some friends for help to see that this gets to you. I hope you have made friends yourself. It must be lonely without friends. {I should know.}

I need to get some things off my chest and to you. I hope you don't mind, and if you do, I hope you will keep reading anyway, {because some of the things I want to say are things I do not think I can tell you if we were face-to-face, or if we ever will be. You owe me that much.}

Mother, when I have a girl of my own, I want to do right by her and do better than you have done for me. I do not want her to leave home without breakfast and go to bed without dinner. I do not want her to hide from me when I come home upset, afraid I'd take my hand to her and hurt her because I'm hurting. I do not want her to be cold, to be hungry or to be sad. I do not want her to shut herself away from people. {I do not want to become the woman you became, and I don't want to do anything to her that may make grow up to be likewise.} I want to let her go out and make friends, go to school and feel welcomed, and come home and feel loved. And when the day comes when she might leave me and go out into the world to find her place, I want her to feel like she can come back to me whenever she wants, call me whenever she feels like it, because we won't only be relatives, but we'll be friends.

{Grandmother told me many things and more than she would ever wish, but I dragged it out of her. How Grandfather used to beat you. Beat you for poor grades. Beat you for talking back. Beat you for speaking when spoken too. I guess beatings was the only lesson he ever taught you. I hope I don't repeat your mistake.

I'm sorry. But you deserve that. You deserve that and so much more. The times I wished upon the stars outside my bedroom window with fingers crossed that there'd be a day when you won't come home. That a car might have run you over. That a mugger might have gotten you. Or one day you just decided to give up on me and our sad little charade of a family and just leave with your boyfriend. Grandmother thinks you hate her, and she blames herself for both our situations. I think when we grow older, we grow kinder, and that you don't really think it's her fault. But still, childhood pains really don't-

Let me start over.}

I want us to try again. I think I understand what made you do the things you did, but I'd like to give you a chance to speak for yourself. And when that girl comes, I'd also like to give that girl of mine a grandmother, just like the one I had. Grudges are a hard thing to let go of, but I rather there be a failed attempt than no attempt at all. I don't want to remember my mother the way I have for this long. I don't you want to be an old horror, a faded nightmare. For years I've put you behind me and locked you away, but now that so much time has passed, I realize that I have forgotten your face, and that pains me.

{I like to think that I've forgiven you a long time ago, but I know that no matter what, I won't forget how you have wronged me. I want to believe that I don't hate you, don't fear you, but the truth is, I don't know if I'd ever want you to lay hands on that girl of mine. If I ever saw you walk through my front door and pick her up in your hands, I don't know whether I'll tell you her name and tell her your name, or demand you put her down and keep away from her, because when it comes to children, you don't exactly have a good track record, do you?}

Please. Call me. Mail me. I'll leave my number at the bottom, and the address's already at the top. And if you want, you can come visit me. I'd like that. I want to see you sometime. I hope you feel the same way.

{Kind RegardsYours Sincerely Your daughter} Your loving daughter.

Kayo Sugita

/\

Kayo sighed, set her pen down upon on the wood of the desk, and leaned back in her chair. The window shutters were open and the wedding-white drapes were swaying from the evening breeze. Birds could be heard on the branches of the trees. Could be larks. Kayo glanced at what she wrote and frowned as she read the writing and saw the hurt and anger in the way the black ink grew dark and her elegant script became a clumsy scrawl in certain phrases. She'll have to start again. She couldn't leave it as it was. Sometimes she wondered why she didn't just use an email instead. But she was never really good at computers nor much of a touch-typer, and there was something about putting pen to paper that made the words flow better.

A car drove by on the road outside, engine coughing and spluttering for mercy. An old man and an old black Labrador crossed the street together, every step together slow and labored. A schoolgirl passed them from the other side, skipping with a phone to her ear and giggling.

Perhaps tomorrow if time would allow her. Yes, Kayo thought, resting her arms on the desk and her chin upon them; tomorrow she'll try to make the tone lighter. Not too confrontational, too emotional. There was a lot to confess, but some confessions just couldn't be written down and mailed. They had to be uttered. If one was going to be personal then one shouldn't do it from a distance. But still, she just couldn't imagine Akemi taking it all without-

"Kayo I'm home, you're going to come down and say hi?" Someone called from downstairs. A door thudded close and keys noisily clattered upon the marble of a kitchen bench.

"Just give me a sec!" Chair pushed back and the ends of its legs creaking against the floor, she stood up and hurried out, the door swinging in but not closing. "Don't rush me!" Her bare feet could be heard descending some stairs.

The breeze became a gust and the drapes started to billow wildly. The pen rolled across the desk and off to fall and land in a drawer that had been left open. Inside that drawer were many, many pieces of paper, some plain white and others yellowed with age, and they all had writing on them in black ink and elegant calligraphy.

Kayo's voice rose with a yelp. "Hiromi, put me down! Are you planning on doing this every time you see me?" Laughter followed.

The wind touched the letter and the letter gently rose from the desk, into the air and towards the open window.

/\

Up and down the corridor of white walked surgeons in scrubs, doctors in coats and nurses in uniform pushing patients in wheelchairs. A door opened and voices could be heard.

"No need to thank me. Just doing my job. Now remember what I said about the prescription, and if you think there's any other concerns you might have, please don't hesitate to contact me."

"Of course." Kayo smiled and walked past the doctor. "Have a good day."

"You too Mrs. Sugita."

The door closed. Kayo was in the middle of pulling her handbag over her shoulder when she heard the phone inside vibrate nosily. She fumbled the clasp open and dug inside with her hand feeling through her wallet, old receipts and her case of reading glasses before she found it at the bottom and fished it out. On the display it read: private number. She hesitated for a second before answering it. "Hello?"

"Hi. It's me."

"Kenya! Hey, how've you been?"

"Been better." A light sigh over the line. The clacking of a keyboard. "Paperwork. Bah."

Kayo chuckled, her shoulders shaking. "I see. Anything I can do to help?" She started walking.

"Well, if you know anyone who can get my boss, end him and make it look like a bloody accident, then by all means, please hurry."

"No one springs to mind, but I'll ask around."

"Thanks." A pause. "I'm afraid that I won't be able to make it for tonight. Something came up."

"Is it the investigation?"

'Yeah." A deeper sigh this time. "Sorry. Give Hiromi my best."

"Sure thing. And don't worry. It's fine. We can always reschedule."

"I know. It's just..."

Kayo slowed down in her stride. "Yes?" She glanced around.

"Nevermind. It's nothing. Listen, I got to go now, but I'll make it up to you guys. Promise."

"I'll hold you to that. Bye."

"Bye."

Kayo heard Kenya hang up and the line go dead. Ten years, she thought to herself. Ten years and he still hasn't given up.

She shrugged to herself and opened her handbag to put her phone back inside.

That's when it vibrated again.

Private number, the display read.

Kayo smirked and started walking again. Seems she's really popular today. She answered it, looking down. "Hello?" She glanced up just as she was about to bump into a elderly patient walking by with crutches. She hastily stammered an apology to him and stepped out of his path as he glared at her. "Who is this?" She asked, returning her attention to the phonecall and hurrying her footsteps. The voice was too soft for her to hear. She covered her other ear and bent her head forward. Behind her there was a crash. She looked over her shoulder. A nurse had slipped and lost control of her cart. Kayo turned away as other staff members rushed past her to help the poor woman up. "Hello?"

"Sorry, there must be some mistake. Excuse me."

"No wait a minute. Please. My name's Kayo. Am I who you're looking for?" Silence on the other line. Then a choked intake of breath. Kayo stiffened. "Are you alright?"

"Yes...I'm okay."

Kayo walked a little further down the corridor and found a chair outside a ward room. "Just take deep breaths. What's your name?" No answer. She smiled frowned, eyes narrowing. "Is something wrong?" She asked, leaning forward.

"My name's Akemi."

Kayo stiffened as her mind blanked out suddenly. Tentatively and fearfully, she struggled with her voice, hoping it wasn't shaking as something tightened in her throat. "Mom?"

/\

Up and down the corridor of white walked surgeons in scrubs, doctors in coats and nurses in uniform pushing patients in wheelchairs. A door opened and a doctor stuck her head out to see a woman sitting by the door with a phone to her ear and a hand clutching at her face. She was trying not to cry, and failing miserably as she started rubbing her puffy red eyes with her wrist. The doctor stepped out and searched her pockets till she found what she was looking for. "Here," she murmured, proffering it under her nose so she could see it.

"Thank you." She put the phone in her lap and took the wad of tissues, sniffing.

"Good news I take it?" The doctor asked gently.

The woman hiccuped. "The best," she croaked, wiping her eyes. "The very best."

AN: A promise is a promise. Anime's finished but I will stick around to write some more. I'm pretty sure this won't do so well as the last one, but whatever. Reviews or no reviews, you guys are still the best.

Till next time :D