Chapter Text
Anna was three years old when she got the book.
It was a little book on the second row of the display at the bookstore. The cover showed an illustration of a small rabbit in a green field and was simply titled Dear Bunny. Anna had tugged her mother’s hand and asked if she could look at it.
She must have stared at it for a long time as she tried to go through the first couple of pages because the next thing she knew, she was holding her mother’s hand again while her mother bought the book for her.
When nighttime came, she snuggled up beside her mother in bed and they read the book together.
The baby rabbit was a baby girl. Just like you, her mother had said and Anna smiled. When the next page showed a different taller rabbit and the smaller one called her mom, just like you, Anna had repeated this time to her mother and the two of them laughed. When the following page showed another tall rabbit patting the smaller one’s head and she was smiling while calling him Dad, neither Anna nor her mother spoke a word.
Anna wanted to ask her mother if she could show the book to her father, but her mother had already finished reading the page and turned to the next page.
When they were done with the book, her mother tucked her in and wished her goodnight. Anna giggled and said, just like the rabbit. But it wasn’t exactly like the rabbit. She knew that and her mother knew that, because the little rabbit had both her parents by her bed as they tucked her in, but her mother didn’t say anything. She only kissed her forehead and told her she loves her a lot.
When all the lights were switched off and Anna was alone in the room, that book was stuck in her mind and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she didn’t know it then, but it was going to continue being in her mind for a long, long time.
Anna’s father wasn’t much like the rabbit father in the book, but that’s okay, Anna thought, he still loved her.
She found a similarity in the way the rabbit father said he worked everyday for his family and wasn’t that the same as her father? He was a lawyer, he worked to provide for them, so he loved her. People express their love differently. The rabbit mother hugged her daughter and the rabbit father patted her head. So maybe that’s how it was with her and her parents.
Sometimes she still wished her father was different. She wished her father was like the one in the book and would pat her head. It would be nice, comforting, and it wouldn’t hurt.
It was only a couple of years later at her elementary school entrance ceremony that Anna’s father did pat her head. She’d been excited about going to school. She could learn so much and experience so many new things. Her mother seemed proud. When she turned to her father and said she might end up becoming a lawyer just like him too, he actually smiled at her. He seemed happy. And he patted her head.
I did that, she thought. She made him happy. He could be gentle too, she thought as well. She just needed to be good.
Maybe there is more to it. Maybe her father too could be like the one in the book and they could be a family like the one in the book too.
Or maybe not.
Because as days passed Anna realized her father wasn’t like the one in the book. Things had gone back to the way they were, or even worse. Anna was growing up. She understood her surroundings better and she spoke more. She spoke out of line more often too. Her father said that. And she’s reminded once more her father isn’t like the one in the book.
Sometimes, when she couldn’t sleep at night and it’s late enough she was certain both her parents were asleep, she would sneak out of bed and pull the book hidden at the back of the lower shelf of her bookshelf. The book had been flipped open and gone through countless times. The pages were showing signs of wear, but the rabbit was still smiling.
She was too old for it, but Anna would still turn to the last page, with the parents hugging the small rabbit, and read the final lines:
I love you the way you are. I love who you are today. I will love who you are tomorrow, after tomorrow, and the one after it, and all the days after it for all of eternity. You have given us the best gift in this world; this family.
Our child; our world. We love you.
She would curl up on herself those nights and hold her arm tightly while she read the page once more. It made the pain hurt less.
Anna didn’t get to see her uncle much, but whenever she did, she noticed the way her mother would smile more often. She rarely saw that smile around her father.
Her uncle brought her a gift this time—because she had started elementary school, he had said earlier. It was a pink pencil case and a pack of a wide variety of colorful markers. She had been drawing more recently and her mother must have mentioned that to him the last time she called him.
“Thank you, Hakkun!”
He pretended to be annoyed whenever she called him that, but he never asked her to stop and he always seemed concerned at times when she actually called him Hajime oji-san instead.
When he asked her how school was, Anna thought it over before she answered, “It’s fun. But I wish I wouldn’t make mistakes.”
“But you’re just starting out. Making mistakes is normal.”
There was a page in the book when the little rabbit had grabbed a basket too small for the carrots and they had all spilled out. The father rabbit helped her then with picking them up.
We all make mistakes. We are all growing and learning. What matters is trying to learn from the mistakes we make. But don’t worry, I’ll always be there with you to lend you a hand as you try again.
Later that day when she sat down to try out the markers, she grabbed the pink pencil case as well and noticed at one corner there was a silhouette of three rabbits by each other's side. The middle one seemed smaller than the other two.
It’s only then she realised it was the first time someone reminded her of the father in the book.
For the most part, things continued as they were as the years passed.
Anna didn’t hate school, she just dreaded the days she had to bring home anything graded. She got three wrong questions in the test this time. Her teacher told her she did really well and so did her mother, except her father.
“You wouldn’t be making these mistakes if you were actually studying. Did you really study or were you just slacking off?” He sounded angry and annoyed as he always did.
“I studied a lot.” Anna hated the way her voice barely came out, but she wanted him to understand, “My teacher said I did well.”
“It’s still not good enough!”
It was frustrating. She studied, she did her best, but it still was not enough. And Anna was older now; she was nine. She understood much better. This wasn’t the first time they had this conversation, nor will it be the last. Nothing will ever be enough for him.
She won’t ever be enough, she thought. She should keep quiet, let it be, and let it end there, but the thought had hurt all these years and she mumbled it out before she could stop herself, “Nothing will ever be good enough for you.”
It was a mistake. She knew it the moment the words came out. She should apologise because she heard her mother rushing to say, “She didn’t mean it–”
She didn’t get to hear the rest of what her mother meant to say. She tried to mumble out an apology, but before she could do so, her father shoved her away.
It’d been far too rough. It sent her stumbling backwards, tripping over her own feet, and she bumped her head against the shelf behind her and her ear took the most damage with the way it hit hard against the corner of the shelf.
She fell on the ground and for a split second everything seemed fine and the pain in her head was only a small dull thing. But then it passed and Anna was instantly flooded by an agonising, unbearable pain in her left ear. She cried out and placed a hand against her ear, but even the light touch sent a jolt of an excessive ache, and she immediately pulled her hand back only for it to come back sticky. There was a streak of red against her fingers; she was bleeding.
“Anna!” Her mother’s voice was all muffled and Anna noticed now she was hearing clearly from one ear only. It’s only when her mother was by her side did Anna realize she was breathing heavily and everything seemed so blurry.
She didn’t want to cry, but her mother moved her head to get a better look at her ear and she pressed slightly, most likely to try to stop the bleeding, but it ached terribly. Anna sobbed and flinched away, “It hurts!”
She was sobbing, unable to hold back her tears, or stop herself. Between her tears and her dry heaving, the agonising pain muted everything else and she was unable to concentrate on what was going on around her. She recognised her mother’s arm holding her, the muffled voices of her parents, and another muffled voice. And somewhere in there, she realised the additional muffled voice was of her own. She didn’t know when in between her tears she started mumbling a repeated choked out, “I’m sorry.”
But it was too late. The pain didn’t go away.
They ended up at the hospital that evening. Anna clinged to her mother’s side while she heard her explain how Anna tripped and injured herself. Neither of them mentioned the circumstances that led to Anna tripping.
The doctor examined her and once the examination was over, she explained it fortunately wasn’t a severe injury inflicting any permanent issues along the line. She went on to further explain everything regarding her treatment, but Anna stopped paying attention then.
Eventually the doctor wrote down a prescription and a note for her school to exclude Anna from any sports activities for a while. The doctor smiled at Anna before she left and told her to be careful of her surroundings whenever she played. Anna couldn’t correct the doctor and tell her that she needed to be aware of her surroundings whenever she angered her father.
When the rabbit fell and was in pain, the rabbit’s parents picked her up and eased the pain away. But the book lacked any pages for when the rabbit father was the source of the pain. What should the little rabbit do then?
It was far too late of a realisation that Anna had in that hospital room. She couldn’t keep on remembering the book anymore and she needed to let it go. It was all her fault. She shouldn’t have ever gotten the book and created these false expectations from her father. She had placed unrealistic expectations upon him and awaited a family that she was never going to be part of.
Families come in all sorts of shapes—it even said so in one of the pages—Anna’s family just wasn’t one represented in the book.
Later that night before going to bed, Anna apologised to her father one more time. He didn’t say anything back.
She thought things could go better, but around three months later Anna’s world came crashing down.
Her mother sat down beside her on her bedroom floor, holding both her hands tightly as she carefully said, “Anna, I’m going to have to stay in the hospital for a while.”
“Are you alright Mom?”
“Yes, don’t worry about me. I just need to rest in the hospital for a while to get better.”
Anna squeezed her hands, hoping the heavy dread she felt wasn’t visible in her voice, “So I’ll be alone here?”
Her ear was all better and fully recovered, but for a moment she felt like it was that evening and she was on the floor again. Without her, nobody will be there to keep her safe nor soothe her when she got new bruises.
But her mother squeezed her hand back and shook her head, “No, you’ll stay with your uncle.”
“Hakkun?” Anna asked, hopeful despite everything around slowly crumbling.
“Yes. Hajime will keep Anna safe.” Her mother smiled, “But Anna, Hajime doesn’t live alone, remember?”
Anna nodded. She remembered a while back, she’s certain it was way over a year or two ago but wasn’t sure when exactly it was, when she got to see her uncle again and she overheard some of his and her mother’s conversation. He had moved to a new place, her mother was so happy for him, and she remembered the name he mentioned.
“I will get to meet Kai-kun?!”
“Yes. I haven’t met him yet, but from what I’ve heard he seems to be a really kind person. So Anna will get to meet him first then you can tell me all about him until I get to meet him too.”
“I can’t wait!” Anna giggled, “Will Hakkun pick me up?”
“No, we’ll surprise him!”
They packed up all her essentials and clothing in a couple of bags. When she gathered her school work, Anna took one final look at the lowest shelf of her bookshelf. The book was still hidden in the back and Anna doubted she would ever pull it out again.
Perhaps it all came down to this; she was never getting a family like the one in the books.
And here she is today at her uncle’s place.
Anna adjusts the strap of her bag and the hold she has of the other bag in her hand as she reads the nameplate displaying the two surnames once more.
Otokita - Iseya
And above it, the sign reading:
Iseya Detective Agency
Kai is a detective? Anna blinks and glances up past the stairs towards the main door.
Anna has always associated detectives with the stories she comes across. They all wear long trench coats, have strange looking hats, and are frowning with their magnifying glasses. They are smart, but seem so intimidating. That stops Anna from ringing the doorbell.
She thinks of her uncle. He’s kind. He lets her call him a nickname she made up. He’s never done anything to harm her. Her mother loves him a lot and trusts Anna with him.
He wouldn’t be with someone like that, right? Except, her mother is so loving and she’s married to Anna’s father. He makes Anna nervous and doesn’t make the pain go away.
What if Kai is the same?
Anna takes a deep breath and hopes Kai isn’t home. Maybe if he isn’t there and it’s just her and Hajime, she’ll get a better understanding of what to expect. So she rings the doorbell and makes her way to the top of the stairs. She can’t deny the happiness she feels despite the nerves.
“Dad!” Anna calls out when Hajime opens the door just like her mother instructed her to.
Hajime is stuck by the doorway, staring at her with confusion itched into every inch of his face until the only thing he utters out is, “What?”
Anna continues smiling even as she hears rushed footsteps, a door thud, and an unfamiliar voice repeating, “What?!”
That’s probably Kai. Anna can’t see him from where she stands though.
Hajime echoes it before Kai—presumably Kai—exclaims, “Dad?!”
“Dad!” Anna exclaims louder and rushes to close the distance between them, throwing her arms around Hajime’s middle and hugging him.
“What–wait a minute, what does this mean?”
“What’s going on?”
Anna doesn’t move or say anything else, keeping her arms around Hajime, and shuts her eyes momentarily. Hajime hasn’t pushed her away or hugged her back, still trying to comprehend what’s going on, but he’s warm.
Hajime will keep Anna safe.
She tightens her hold around Hajime as she remembers her mother’s words. His warmth does feel a lot like safety.
Just like how the rabbit felt when she hugged her father.
Anna blinks at that. She should really forget about the book.
“Anna?” Hajime’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts and she feels Hajime’s hand resting atop her shoulder, nudging her slightly to look at him, but he doesn’t move her away. Anna similarly doesn’t move back just yet, “Where is your mother?”
“Not here. It’s just me.” Anna explains, settling further against Hajime, giddy at how he hasn’t made any effort to get her away.
“Does she know you’re here?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you here?”
“Because we both agreed I would come here.”
“You’re not really answering my question.”
Anna smiles and she finally looks up. Hajime is looking at her but Anna’s gaze drifts to the person standing right behind Hajime. He seems younger than Hajime and he seems so confused. He’s slightly taller than Hajime, peeking behind him at Anna, so when Anna glimpses at him, their eyes instantly meet. He’d been watching their entire conversation in silence.
Despite the confusion and his bewilderment at the situation, he still smiles at her. It’s a tiny, warm thing. This must be Kai.
Anna tilts her head slightly, “Are you Kai-kun?”
“Yes. You know me?” Kai glimpses at Hajime momentarily and directs his next question to him, “What’s going on?”
“This is Anna, my niece.” Hajime explains and diverts his attention back to Anna, “Where is your mother?”
Anna steps back, avoiding Hajime’s question for now to look back at Kai, “I’m Owari Anna. Nice to meet you–” Anna tries to bow, but the combined weight of the bags she’s carrying on her back and front has her losing her balance for a moment.
She shifts on her feet and adjusts herself, regaining her balance once more, but there’s already Hajime’s hand against her arm to help keep her steady and she hears both of their concerned, “Are you alright?”
Anna giggles and nods, “Yes.”
All traces of warriness seem to have vanished from Kai as he smiles and he steps by Hajime’s side, “Come on in, Anna-chan. You must be tired coming all the way over here.”
He picks up the bag by her foot and hands it to Hajime wordlessly, before Anna is being led inside their home.
When Hajime calls her mother again and it goes unanswered, Anna finally perks up and explains the situation to Hajime. It all goes well until Hajime asks, “But there’s your father, right?”
Anna presses her lips tightly together and goes to take a sip from the glass Kai handed her earlier. Hajime is looking at her intently and Anna is reminded that he is a lawyer and Kai is a detective. This combination won’t do. They will probably ask more questions.
Except, as Anna tries to think of something to say, Kai simply says, “It’s fine.” He steps forward and leans down so he’s by Hajime’s side as he continues with, “She came here counting on Hakkun.”
When Kai holds his hand out for her shortly later and she shakes it, laughing as they exchange a, “Nice to meet you!” Anna thinks Kai’s hand is gentle.
It’s far too soon, yet Anna’s hunch is telling her it isn’t just Hajime that will keep her safe. She hopes she’s right.
A while after lunch, Hajime and Kai help her unpack her things.
Hajime’s by the chest of drawers moving things around to make space for some of Anna’s clothing, while Anna is by Kai’s side beside the clothing racks. Kai simply pushes the clothes closer together to one side and creates space for Anna’s clothes.
Her mother helped her fold all her clothes when she packed, but after the long way to get here the constant shifting made the clothes move around a bit. That, combined with the way she dropped her bags earlier with little to no care after finally being relieved to get the weight of them off her, has undone some of the foldings or left them loose.
The first shirt she pulls out is as neat as it had been in her closet and she hands it to Kai who in turn hangs it at one end of the rack.
“Did you bring everything you need?” Kai asks as they go through more of her clothes.
“Yes. Mom went through everything twice. I should be fine.”
Anna unfolds her orange striped dress and notices a portion of the lower half has gotten all wrinkled. It probably won’t be noticeable when she wears it though. She hands it to Kai and she observes the way his gaze falls to the wrinkled part.
“It got wrinkled in the bag, but it’s fine. It’s unnoticeable.”
Kai nods, but he places the dress aside and doesn’t hang it with the others, “I’ll iron it later, okay?”
At home, Anna remembers the way her mother would always take a final look at Anna’s clothes after she finished ironing them to make sure they were smooth of any wrinkles. She would always set them back on the ironing board if she found any, even when it wasn’t as noticeable as it is now. If her mother was here, she too would iron her dress.
“Is it really okay?” Anna asks, looking up at Kai, “It won’t be troublesome?”
“Not at all. And I’m already ironing Hakkun’s shirts later.”
“She calls me that, not you.” Hajime interjects with a light complaint, but Anna has heard that tone many times. It’s his familiar tone when he feigns annoyance. Judging by the way Kai is grinning at him, he’s also well-acquainted with that tone.
“I don’t mind if Kai-kun wants to call you Hakkun too.” Anna quips.
Kai laughs when Hajime glances back, smiling despite his words, “You don’t mind? Isn’t it supposed to be me?”
Anna grins.
Thankfully, there is only one more shirt that’s been left slightly wrinkled by her journey. She really doesn’t want to bother Kai.
Later that evening, while Anna’s scribbling in her notebook by the low table in the living room, Hajime joins her side.
Up until a while ago, Hajime had been by Kai’s side in the kitchen area. They’d been talking between themselves, their voices quiet enough that Anna could only overhear slight murmurs and couldn’t pick up anything they were saying. Whatever it was, it was something they wanted to discuss between themselves and didn’t want Anna to overhear them. It was probably about her, she thinks. She hopes they weren’t talking about sending her back home.
“Anna, what about your school?” Hajime asks.
“I’m currently studying from home.”
“Until when?”
Anna shakes her head, “Mom knows the details.”
“So it’s another thing to ask her.” Hajime mumbles, though it’s mostly to himself.
Anna pauses from where she’d been doodling in her notebook and glances at Hajime, “Did Mom call back?”
“No, but she texted me. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
She looks down at the table again and smiles, “Hakkun, do you remember this?”
Anna picks up her pink pencil case and holds it out for Hajime. He stares at it for a while, “...Is this the one I gave you?”
“Yes!” Anna huffs out, “You don’t remember?!”
“I remember I gave you one, but I can’t remember how it looked.”
“It has rabbits on it,” Anna points to the small rabbit in the middle, “See? Mom used to say I was the one in the middle.”
“So these two would be your parents?”
Anna looks back at the pencil case. Her mother would definitely be by her side, but she’s unsure what to feel to agree and call the other as her father.
She ends up humming instead and Hajime doesn’t say anything further about it.
When nighttime comes, they let her take the bed to sleep in. It’s far too spacious of a bed for her, yet they both refuse to let her sleep somewhere else.
“Is it fine with this light on or is it too dark?” Kai asks while he holds back the blanket for her to get in bed.
At the other side of the room, there’s only a sole, small light left on. It leaves the room softly lit with a blue hazy edge to it and not teetering on the edge of being too dark.
“It’s good.” Anna answers as she settles down in bed. She shifts and goes to move her arm to grab the blanket, but Kai is still holding it. Instead of letting her do it, he covers her with it instead and leans forward to smoothen out the other end while he tucks her in.
Anna remains still and can’t fight back a smile, feeling all giddy at the warmth spreading through her chest.
“Thank you.” Anna murmurs when Kai leans back.
“If you need anything, we’ll be in the next room.” When Anna nods, he goes to switch off the lamp by the bedside table, “Goodnight, An-chan.”
“Goodnight, Kai-kun.” Anna glances at Hajime just by the doorway and smiles, “Goodnight, Hakkun.”
“Goodnight.”
Once they’ve both left the room, Anna can’t help herself from recalling the book again, specifically of the page with the little rabbit tucked in bed, smiling up at her parents by her bedside.
It’s the first time someone other than her mother has tucked her in bed. She tries not to move as much while she tries to sleep and undo the way the blanket’s been wrapped around her.
The blue curtains are the first thing in Anna’s sight when she blinks her eyes open the following morning.
She rubs her eyes, her movements all slow and languid, and shifts in bed. Her mother would be coming in to wake her up in a short while. Until then, she can stay like this in bed. But when she shifts again, she furrows her brows at how much more spacious her bed feels today. Something feels odd this morning. She blinks again and frowns at the unfamiliar blue curtains and the equally unfamiliar room until everything slowly comes to focus and she remembers where she is.
She’s not home and her mother won’t be coming in to wake her up in a bit.
Anna presses her face against the pillow and gets a wisp of the fresh laundry detergent from the sheets. It’s a gentle scent, far from something harsh, but it’s still unlike the one she’s familiar with at home.
It’s barely been a day, yet she’s already missing her mother.
She takes in another deep breath, trying to divert her thoughts to somewhere else, and wonders what time it is, if it’s still too early or if Hajime and Kai are awake. A few moments later, Anna picks up the slight noises coming from outside the room and she recognises Kai’s voice.
It isn’t clear considering the distance and the hallway separating the rooms, but she focuses on his voice and recognises he’s calling for Hajime to wake up. It’s followed by silence, then Hajime’s barely audible voice, and Kai is calling for him again. This time she can hear the way Kai is clearly laughing while Hajime complains all the while he tries to wake him up.
Anna’s mother made her mornings bright, even with how permanently dim their house was. This home doesn’t feel the slightest bit dim at all though.
And Anna learns new things. The first being her mother was right; Hajime is really bad at waking up.
He’s much more awake afterwards though and Anna is munching on her toast while she watches Kai tie Hajime’s necktie for him.
She watches the way Kai’s familiarized hands tie it up neatly, a set of loops that are far too complicated for her to keep track of, but he does it so effortlessly. When he eventually tightens the knot, he smoothens a hand over the neatly tied tie before tucking in the shorter end behind the wide end. He then hands Hajime his suit jacket. He’d taken it off the hanger earlier to rest it on the back of the chair nearby and Anna witnessed the way he had carefully draped it over the chair.
It seems so familiar to them—a morning routine they’ve accustomed themselves into. Hajime is probably still messy too, just like her mother once told her. Kai just complements him.
Later, after Hajime has left for work and Anna is helping Kai with the dishes, she brings it up, “Mom told me Hakkun has always been bad at waking up.”
Kai nods with a little chuckle, “He has days much better than today, but he is usually like that.”
“Is he messy too?” Anna asks and picks up a plate to start wiping dry.
“He can be, but he has a way with it. He knows where everything is so it works out for him.” Kai rinses off the final plate and settles it on the drying rack before turning off the faucet.
“Then the reason everything is clean and tidy here is because of Kai-kun?”
“Mostly yes. But he’s also not intentionally messy.”
Anna stacks the dry plate atop the other clean ones and picks up another one to wipe, “Intentionally?”
“I don’t like it when things are messy here and because of the way our jobs are, I spend more time at home and do most of the housework. Hajime knows that so he tries to keep things tidy for me.” Anna watches him as he dries his hand with the hand towel by the counter, “So he still does end up sometimes forgetting things, but it’s unintentional.”
“Did you ask him that? To try to be tidy?”
“No, but when you’re living with someone and you care about them, you both try to understand and make life easier for each other.” Kai’s voice has a quiet, gentle tone to it as he adds, “It’s our home. We both want to take care of it.”
Anna stares at the dry plate in her hand. She thinks of the laundry detergent her mother used and the fresh sheets always available at home. She thinks of standing beside her mother in the kitchen just like this while they tidied up the kitchen. Her mind draws blank when she tries to think of her father. She doesn’t have any memories of that sort with him, even though it was a home the three of them shared.
But here, though she’s only been here for less than a day and still doesn’t have much of a clue about their day to day lives, she still knows that both Hajime and Kai take care of their home in their own complementing ways.
And Anna now is helping as well. She wonders what it all means.
Anna slides her goggles aside and scans the pantry shelf once more. The canned tomatoes should be here like Kai told her, but even as she steps on her toes to take a glance at the upper shelf, she can’t find them.
“Kai-kun? Where is it?”
“You didn’t find them, An-chan? Wait a minute.”
Anna shifts on her feet and looks over the lower shelf one more time, but they’re still nowhere to be found.
“It’s not there? I usually keep it on the lower shelf.” She glances at Kai when he joins her side and shakes her head. He takes a quick peek at the lower shelf, but then shifts his gaze to the upper shelf and reaches for something just out of sight for Anna, “Ah, there it is.”
“I can’t see it from here.” Anna says with a giggle.
Kai chuckles similarly, “Sorry, that was my fault. I thought it was on the lower shelf.”
For a moment, Anna stiffens in her spot and blinks at the canned tomatoes in Kai’s hand.
Sorry.
An apology uttered by Kai over something so trivial. There is something about the ease he said it. A normalcy of admitting of fault, even over matters that may seem and are so inconsequential.
Like last week, when Anna was halfway through chopping a carrot as her mother asked her to, only for her mother to interject with a quick sorry when she realized she forgot to tell Anna to chop it into sticks rather than circular slices. It was such a trivial matter to apologise for a silly mistake over the way the carrots were chopped, yet she still apologised as they both laughed over it.
There’s a fluttery sensation in her stomach at those unexpected yet welcomed words from Kai. She ducks her head, hiding her smile as she takes the can back to the kitchen when Kai hands it to her and tries not to think too much over it, but it’s difficult not to.
She doesn’t think she ever heard those words uttered by her father.
At night, Kai tucks her in again and Hajime lingers by the door.
Anna dreams of a happy small rabbit that night.
It’s only been for a short while and Anna is still getting to learn about the way Hajime and Kai live.
Hajime is her uncle and by that extension, so is Kai. But this new living arrangement has Anna reassessing everything and trying to understand their relationship.
They’re both men, but they’re partners and they live together. Won’t that mean they both have roles in their relationship and home? And they have now stepped into this new, muddled unfamiliar territory as they took in Anna as their responsibility for now.
Hajime is kind just like her mother. But there is something about Kai’s kindness that feels so similar to her mother. But the similarities don’t end there.
Kai is much tidier, he does the housework, and he cooks and lets Anna help him whenever she asks. Her mother always did that. Anna understood it well enough it was her role and job, and was never her father’s.
If she follows that logic, Kai could be fulfilling her mother’s role in this home and Hajime would have to be fulfilling the same role as her father. But when she thinks about it, there are barely any similarities between her father and Hajime—not that Anna wants Hajime to be similar to him.
Their dynamics are much more different and t doesn't align at all with what she is familiar with when it comes to a family. She can’t see any similarities between Hajime and Kai’s relationship and her parent’s relationship, nor the way their home feels.
Hajime and Kai can have all sorts of conversations between themselves, even the trivial sort, and doesn’t seem limited to family matters or topics regarding Anna only. They both seem to enjoy the other’s company as well.
But, the one striking out the most is she notices the way Hajime actually listens to Kai.
Like now. They’re both by the low table, with the folder Hajime brought earlier spread atop it. Anna doesn’t know what they’re talking about, but she sees the way Kai picks up a photo and frowns while Hajime says, “I knew it would bother you, right?”
He brought the folder to consult with Kai and hear his opinion. Kai’s opinion holds a value to Hajime. Hajime wants to hear Kai's thoughts.
Her father never bothered to listen to her mother and her repeated requests. If he did, Anna wouldn’t have gotten her ear injury.
Anna swallows the sudden thickness in her throat and shakes the thought away, as she makes her way towards Hajime and Kai with a sudden deseprate need of a distraction.
As each day passes, Anna begins accumulating new experiences and memories she never thought would belong to her. Today she got to tag along with Kai and assist him before visiting Hajime’s office for the very first time.
Somewhere in between, she thought about the natural ease she felt around Kai and how much she enjoys the time they spend together. The only memories she has of spending some alone time with her father are a handful at most and never came with these feelings. She was always on edge and impatiently awaiting her mother’s return. And the more she thinks of it, the more she realizes she doesn’t know much about her father’s job. There has always been some curiosity around it, but never an actual wish to visit his office or even catch a glimpse of it.
In a single day, Hajime and Kai altered all of that. It’s all so new, exciting, yet slightly overwhelming. It leaves her feeling tired though it’s still early in the evening.
“Anna-chan, you can take a nap here.” Azusa suggests when she notices the way Anna has been slowly slumping further and further against the couch, “They’ll wake you up once they’re back and ready to leave.”
Anna shakes her head, “I’m okay. I want to stay awake.”
Despite her words, Anna ends up falling asleep only a few minutes later. She stirs up from her sleep some time later to slight shifting and unfamiliar warmth.
“Hmm?” She blinks blearily, slightly disoriented and confused for a second, until it sinks in it is Hajime’s arms holding her up and he’s carrying her on his back.
She blinks again and turns her head, catching a glimpse of Kai smiling gently at her and he instantly speaks in a quiet voice, “It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
It’s warm and safe and Anna’s eyes are already shutting again. She doesn’t utter any reply, but snuggles closer to Hajime and sighs, content on remaining like this and falling back asleep here. They’re still in Hajime’s office and Anna has no idea when they both returned. She only knows that Hajime is going to be carrying her back home.
Her eyes are all shut, but she hears their familiar voices, hushed and quiet, lulling her further to fall back asleep. The last thing she hears is Azusa bidding them goodbye, but not before so quietly and with a tone bursting with delight says, “You look like a little family like this.”
Anna falls asleep with a smile.
When she wakes up again, it’s to Hajime and Kai’s quiet murmurs between each other.
Now it’s relatively quiet. There is only the steady, gentle sound of the water as it flows along the river, the distant, faint noises of the cars and the city barely noticeable, and the quiet breeze passing through has the nearby greenery rustling so lightly.
She could fall back asleep like this, but she doesn’t want to.
Hajime is still carrying her on his back and she wants to prolong this moment as long as possible and to memorise every inch of this warmth. It might be a selfish wish, but her father never carried her like this and she won’t get to experience this again after she returns back home.
She hums and snuggles closer to Hajime, grinning at the way he feigns annoyance again, “You’re awake, why am I still carrying you?”
Anna giggles, “Shh, I’m sleeping.”
“You’re talking to me.”
“I’m sleep talking.”
“And will you still be sleep talking when we get home?”
“Maybe?”
“You know I could stop carrying you, right?”
“But you won’t.”
Beside them, Kai laughs. Hajime sighs but doesn’t stop or even attempt to put her down. He only adjusts his hold and continues carrying her.
They continue walking like that and Anna feels her eyes getting heavier by each passing second. She stifles back a yawn and fights to keep her eyes open, but decides to shut her eyes momentarily.
“You can go back to sleep. We’ll wake you up when we get home.” Kai suggests, voice still quiet.
“It’s so nice like this, the three of us going home together.” Anna murmurs, “I don’t want this to end.”
Anna thinks of that small rabbit once more.
We’ll go on a journey together and if you’re tired and you fall asleep, I’ll carry you the rest of the way home. The father had carried the little rabbit all the way home and the little rabbit had said “Dad’s back is warm and safe.”
Hakkun’s back is warm and safe, Anna thinks.
There’s a new sensation she adds to all the new things she’s getting to experience now.
She learns guilt and shame when her mind tells her: I wish Dad was like Hakkun.
Anna can’t hear them properly, not that she can ever hear them clearly from the bedroom. Their voices are always just unclear murmurs and noises. It’s different today with an unclear unfamiliar tone to their voices. But Anna knows what that tone in general means. She’s familiar with it and has overheard it countless times clearly around her parents.
She can’t make out what they’re saying, but she knows they’re arguing. It reminds her a lot of her parents and for a moment Anna feels like she’s back in her bedroom again. Something so far from the rabbits.
She stares at the curtains before curling up on herself and presses her face closer to her plushie, clinging to it tightly.
Much later, when their voices have long quieted down, she hears a pair of quiet footsteps. She knows by now either of them always makes a point to check on her before going to sleep themself. She’s got her back towards the door’s direction, but she still shuts her eyes tightly and remains unmoving, pretending to be asleep.
She isn’t sure if it’s Hajime or Kai, all she knows is that she really hopes they don’t notice she’s awake. Thankfully they don’t. Once she’s certain she’s alone again, Anna lets out a long sigh.
Sleep doesn’t come easily at all.
Anna isn’t sure what to expect in the morning. She isn’t nervous to be around them, just hesitant on what to expect. She takes in a long, deep breath before leaving the room.
But when she steps into the living room and greets them, Hajime and Kai both seem as they usually are. It leaves her frozen for a moment in her spot. She isn’t sure what she was expecting and if this was within her expectations or not.
As she watches Kai fix Hajime’s tie as every other morning before he leaves for work, she considers if she might have misunderstood the situation last night.
Or maybe, it is that easy to make up.
Sometimes families can have some unhappy times and we might argue, but we’ll always make up. Again, just like the rabbits, she thinks.
Anna picks up her book and pencil case, only for a pencil to slip out the pencil case. She watches it as it rolls off the table and falls somewhere under it. She sets her things down again and kneels on the floor to peek under the table and spots it within reach.
She grabs it and as she moves to stand up again, she slips and bumps the top of her head against the edge of the table with a loud thud. Anna winces at the throbbing pain and places her hand against her forehead, pressing at the spot she could sense the pain originating from.
“An-chan?!” Kai calls straightaway. Anna can’t see him from where she’s on the floor, but she clearly detects the worry in his tone with how his words all come out in a rush, “Are you alright? What happened?”
She’s still rubbing her forehead and before she can explain everything, she hears his rushed footsteps and he’s by her side in a second. She’s still pressing against the aching spot and mumbles, “I hit my head.”
“Let me see.” Anna moves her hand away and Kai is tender with his touch as he pushes her hair back to examine the spot better.
“Is it bleeding?”
“Thankfully no. It’s just a light scratch,” Kai rubs his thumb gently against it, “Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?”
“No.”
“Okay. I’ll get you some ice.” Kai helps her up to sit on the nearby chair and leaves her side only to come back with an ice pack wrapped up in a towel a moment later.
He moves her hair back again and presses the ice pack against her forehead for her, “Does it hurt a lot?”
“No, only a little bit.” She rolls the pencil still in her hand and lets out a quiet giggle, “This feels very silly.”
Kai’s voice is so soothing and reassuring when he speaks, “It’s an accident. These things happen all the time.”
At the same time, Anna hears the click of the door from across the room signaling Hajime’s arrival, and hears his familiar footsteps as he steps in.
“Welcome back.” They both greet him in unison. Kai is still pressing the ice against her forehead, hence she remains fixed in her spot and can’t turn her head aside to greet Hajime.
“I’m back–” Hajime’s footsteps come to a halt, “What happened?”
“I dropped this and bumped my head against the table.” Anna holds out the offending pencil, even when she hasn’t gotten a single clue if Hajime is looking in her direction or not.
She can only look at Kai as he glances at Hajime. His voice is calm and reassuringly gentle when he speaks, “She’s fine. It’s just a light scratch.”
Hajime makes his way further in the room and stops by Kai’s side. He’s finally in Anna’s sight and she notices his little frown and the wrinkling of his brows.
Kai moves the ice pack aside, allowing Hajime to get a better look at her forehead, and repeats his earlier words still in the same reassuring murmur, “She’s fine.”
“Does it hurt a lot?” Hajime asks this time.
“No, I’m fine. It just hurts a little.”
Kai nods, but places the ice pack back against her forehead again, “But still, let’s ice it for a bit more.”
“It could still bruise even if it doesn’t hurt anymore, right?” Anna asks.
“Yes.”
When Anna glances back at Hajime, it doesn’t seem anything has eased his worries. Rather, there is a distant gaze in his eyes and it seems so off. It isn’t anything close to the worry Kai is showing. And Kai is much more relieved now. They understand it’s only a small bump that’ll likely not leave behind any bruising and isn’t any major injury. Yet, Hajime’s worry is still so off.
It’s not unfamiliar though. She’s seen it before in her mother’s eyes, in the way she would glance at her bruises whenever Anna had fallen or injured herself. Anna always preferred these accidental bruises over the other ones inflicted by a hand she was always wishing to hold her in a warmer way. Perhaps the way Anna brushed off her concerns over the injury was enough to reveal all in her heart for her mother.
She worries if she’s done the same now, except for it all to make sense, Hajime would have to know about her father. He doesn’t know about that part of her life, does he?
Except Hajime and her mother did have a private talk recently and Kai did say they wanted to have an important conversation when they left together.
So he knows. There’s a huge possibility Hajime knows.
When Anna glimpses back at Hajime, that distant gaze is gone and he only smiles at her. Anna doesn’t know if she wants him to know or not. So she smiles back and doesn’t utter anything else for now.
She can’t help herself from remembering the book again and of the page that was caught up in her mind the night her ear got injured. The little rabbit’s parents picked her up and eased the pain away. Anna has spent all this time believing it’s only her mother capable of easing her pain and she resolved to stop thinking of the book.
Yet ever since she stepped into this home, Hajime and Kai seem to have made it their goal to remind her of the book and all her concealed wishes of a family over and over again.
Anna’s hair falls back in place, snapping her out of her thoughts. This time Hajime is the one that holds it back instead. There is a subtle difference from the way Kai had held her hair back earlier, but his touch is as light. But, most importantly, there is an underlying tenderness in both their hands.
She could hold the ice herself, but Kai has taken it upon himself to hold it for her. And she could also hold her hair back herself instead of letting Hajime do it. But she wants to be selfish for now before she leaves this home. It’s unlike her and she wonders if she’s being far too selfish with it, but she wants to indulge in this and allow Hajime and Kai to spoil her.
She hopes her father never learns about this. She doubts he would ever approve of it.
Anna clasps her hand together, the pencil still in her hold, and tries not to feel too guilty about not wanting to go back home soon. It’s difficult.
The next time Anna remembers the book again, it’s on one of her friend’s birthdays.
She hasn’t seen or spoken to her ever since she started studying from home, but she called her today. They talked for a while and her friend told her she’s celebrating her birthday this week with her mother and her family, while the next weekend it would be her father’s turn.
She went back to her schoolwork after the call, but now her mind drifts off and reminds her of her friend again. This year marks the first she’s celebrating with her parents separately after their divorce last year.
Anna remembers when she first told her about it and how she seemed to have expected it. She said she sensed something was wrong and different when they stopped sharing a bedroom. And Anna remembers clearly how ashamed she felt when the first thought in her mind was how she was anticipating the day her parents would also stop sharing a bedroom. Perhaps it could lead to a different life for Anna and her mother.
She thinks of the book again and how the rabbit parents love each other. There is a page where the three rabbits are cuddled up together in bed with their child in between as they sleep. And Anna never got to experience that with her parents.
She doesn’t think she’s ever seen her parents being affectionate towards one another, but she knows they shared a bedroom. She can’t understand her parents’ relationship, but they must love each other in a way incomprehensible for her if they shared a bed. But if that were to stop, then surely it must mean things would change.
Sleeping separately could be a sign of an impending divorce.
Anna’s hand comes to a halt and she looks down at the tatami mat. Kai lays down the futon and sleeps in this spot here every night. If she were to turn around, she would spot the sofa at the opposite end where Hajime sleeps every night as well. In the next room over, Anna sleeps on the bed.
They shared a bedroom—they shared a bed—until Anna arrived. Now they are sleeping separately because of her.
Anna exhales.
Is sleeping separately always a sign of an impending divorce?
But, Hajime and Kai are so attuned to one another. They’re the complete opposite of her parents. Her mother didn’t genuinely smile around her father half as much as Hajime and Kai do around each other. And they’re so, so much similar to the rabbit parents in the book. They love each other.
Or she may be wrong. Hajime and Kai can be like her parents too. Didn’t they seem to have had some sort of argument not long ago?
Anna exhales again and scoots backwards, glimpsing at Kai behind the kitchen counter occupied with preparing dinner. He has the small lights by the kitchen counter left on, but the overhead light is off. She knows by now he only does that while he’s working in the kitchen and he has a headache.
He must be struggling with a headache, but he is still cooking and preparing their dinner with no complaints. Just like her mother again.
Anna’s father would never be behind the kitchen counter back home. It’s not his job, she knows, but she wishes to know if her mother ever hated that she couldn’t take a break whenever she was unwell and what feelings she carried towards Anna’s father during those days. She wants to know what Kai is feeling and thinking now as well.
Anna takes a deep breath and calls out for him, “Kai-kun?”
“Yes?” She doesn’t know what she wants to say or ask. She’s barely aware of her own thoughts and how she should define them. She must be taking too long to answer because Kai eventually looks up, “An-chan?”
Anna still doesn’t know what to say. All she ends up blurting out is, “Hakkun is a really nice person, right?”
It’s so unexpected. Kai laughs, “He is. Why all of a sudden?”
Anna hums and shakes her head, “No reason at all. I was just thinking how he doesn’t mind it when I call him Hakkun.” At this rate, Anna knows she won’t be able to do more of her schoolwork, so she continues with, “Can I help with dinner?”
“Are you done with your studies?”
“...No.”
Kai smiles gently, “Do you need a break?”
More precisely she needs a break from her thoughts, but she can’t tell him that. “Yes. Please?”
“Alright. You can help for a while.”
So Anna gets up and joins his side.
The rest of the evening passes by like every other day, even when Hajime is back. Kai is as usual and Anna can’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
Later, once she’s in bed, she sighs in the dark bedroom. She doesn’t know how off the mark she is with getting a grasp of understanding their relationship.
It’s sometime in the middle of the night when Anna wakes up with a need to use the toilet. She gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom without really glancing towards the living room past the hallway. It’s only once she steps out of the bathroom she notices the light from the living room is still on. It’s faint and barely leaving any trail of light. It’s most probably only the light furthest in the living room corner has been left on, but it’s still so out of place. She isn’t sure what time it is, but it’s far too late in the night for Hajime and Kai to be awake. They are usually asleep by now—sleeping separately, her brain quips—and Anna exhales.
Anna rubs her eyes and pads across the hallway. It’s real quiet and Anna starts having her suspicions then that they might be asleep and have forgotten the light on. She slows down her steps and peeks inside the living room. At the prolonged silence, Anna steps in and glances towards the living area. Her gaze falls on the sofa where Hajime sleeps every night and she instantly freezes in her spot.
Hajime is sleeping there, except he’s not alone tonight; Kai is there with him.
Hajime is on his back with Kai pressed against him on his side, practically lying atop him, and asleep on the arm Hajime’s got around him. Kai’s face is hidden against Hajime’s shoulder and similarly Hajime’s face is pressed atop Kai’s head.
The sofa is too small for two adults to sleep on, they’ll end up having to be pressed close together to make room for them both. It’s probably why Hajime has kept an arm around Kai to keep him from accidentally rolling off the sofa.
It can’t be comfortable at all, yet they're both deep, sound asleep, snuggled up under the blanket they’re sharing. She cannot make out or sense any traces of discomfort between the two.
Anna glances towards the other side of the room where the light has been left on. Kai’s futon is neatly spread out and forgotten in the favor of a small yet comfortable space.
Anna stifles back a giggle and goes to switch off the light. The click of the light switch isn’t loud but it still echoes around the quiet room. Fortunately, neither of them stir in their sleep. She sighs and as carefully as she had stepped in the living room, she makes her way back to the bedroom. All the while she can’t help but smile.
Hajime and Kai are definitely like the parents in the book.
There’s a bird nest perched atop the roof of their neighbor’s house. It’s hidden in the nook beneath where the roof tiles overlap at the far corner.
Two birds are by the edge of the nest, their little heads tilted towards the smaller birds nestling together. The smaller ones frantically call and move at every tiny minuscule shift coming from the adult birds, but they soon calm down, their calls quietening down with them, even if they still seem so full of excessive energy and are constantly shifting.
“An-chan, here you go.”
Anna shifts her attention away from the window as Kai sets down a plate on the empty side of the low table away from her notebook and schoolwork spread atop it. It’s another new habit she files under ones he shares with her mother: of bringing her a plate of cut up fruit as a little snack while she finishes up her homework.
Today, it’s the peaches they bought yesterday during their visit to the grocery store. Anna smiles at it.
“Thank you.” Anna glances aside again and finds the birds still in the same spot, “Kai-kun, have you seen these birds before?”
“Where?”
“In the corner of the roof.”
Kai steps back beside her and she notices the way he perks up when he spots them, “They’re a little family!”
“Are they feeding their children?”
“Seems so.”
“Then one of them is the mother and the other is the father?” Anna glances at Kai again, “Do you know which one is which?”
“Hmm. I don’t know much, but usually with birds the more colorful they are or the more patterns they have, then that would be the male bird. So for these two,” Kai points towards the bird perched on the right with the dark wings and bright orange feathers spread across its front, “You see how it has more orange feathers? That’s most likely the father.”
The other of the pair has dull, brown feathers spread throughout its body and has a relatively smaller patch of bright orangish feathers towards its tail area. That’s the mother, Anna thinks, as she watches her move to feed another of her babies.
Kai goes back to the other side of the room, but Anna is unable to tear her gaze away from the birds.
“Both of them are taking care of their children.”
“They’re good parents.”
Anna turns in her spot and glances at Kai by the ironing board he’d set up earlier. He picks up one of Hajime’s shirts and lays it down on the board.
She has watched him iron their clothes enough times by now to know what to expect.
He always starts with the collar, laying it flat on the board, and presses the iron against it in a few repeated motions until he smoothens out the creases, then repeats it on the other side. Next, he switches to the cuffs of the shirt before moving onto the sleeves. Then he finally moves on to the front of the shirt and works his way to the other side, all the while moving the shirt further on the board while also making sure it’s all smoothened out and not piling up on the other end.
Anna recalls the way she would sit at home like this and watch her mother iron out her father’s shirts in the very same order and manner, down to the way they both smoothen the fabric by hand and pull on it whenever necessary, using the shirt’s seams as their point of reference. Then once it was all done, she would switch to ironing Anna’s clothes.
Today, there’s a small pile of clothes for Kai to iron, but in that pile are some of Anna’s clothes as well.
“But isn’t it usually mothers that take care of their children and their family?”
Kai hangs the ironed shirt aside and picks up another shirt. He lays it down on the board, but doesn’t get started right away, “Even if the mother mostly does it, the father is a parent too. They both have to take care of their family together.”
Anna nods idly while Kai starts ironing the next shirt.
She doesn’t know how her father cares for her, but he must have his own way. If her mother takes care of her in obvious ways, then her father must be taking care of her in subtle ways she can’t understand or see right now. Perhaps one day she will understand it, though she does wish she could understand it already. Because Kai is like her mother, but Hajime isn’t like her father, and she understands the way they take care of her.
Outside, the birds are chirping again and Anna can’t help but think of them. Can they tell and notice the way the father is also taking care of them, or is it not obvious to them yet even if it’s obvious to everyone else? Is she also like them oblivious to the way her father cares for her when everyone else can see it? And if they are similar, she wonders what would happen to them if their mother is gone. They’re too young, their wings still not fully formed, and they still can’t fly.
They would be stuck in the nest with their father. The thought has her heart clenching and she turns to Kai again. “Kai-kun, if I was a bird, what would have happened to me now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Mom is hospitalized and I’m not with her.”
Kai presses the iron against the shirt’s sleeve and smoothens out the creases off it, “And now you’re with Hajime and I. You would be in our nest.”
If she was a bird, her mother wouldn’t have left her alone.
“I think your nest would be warm and safe. I would be happy.”
Kai laughs. It’s a gentle, warm sound, “I’m glad.”
The birds have flown away again outside, but the small baby birds are still nestling together quiet, sated, and are all warm.
The parents leave to do their own things, but not before making sure their children are safe and well fed.
Anna smiles and reaches for the plate full of the sliced peaches.
For the most part Anna isn’t struggling in adjusting to living here. Their home was unfamiliar at first and she experienced some confusion the first few mornings when she was waking up to the different surroundings, but it would all fade away and reshape into ease and comfort the moment it sunk in where she was.
She deeply misses her mother, but visiting her frequently eases the ache and stops it from ever intensifying and spiraling. It helps that she hasn’t experienced any loneliness ever since she stepped in this home too.
She’s been doing well and far better than she could have ever anticipated. It’s a sore throat that throws it all off.
Anna wakes up all restless after a long night’s sleep with a slight tingling in her throat. She rubs her eyes and slowly sits up in bed, frowning at the way her body feels all sluggish. She huffs out a breath and pushes the blanket aside.
Her mother would fret over her once she informs her, but she’ll know what to do. She would prepare something warm for her, tuck her in bed, and tell her to rest. And if Anna struggles to sleep, she would snuggle up with her and they would go on and on talking about all sorts of things until Anna drifts off to sleep. She hates being sick, but she won’t deny the way she feels all warm at the way her mother dotes over her and makes it all better.
So she goes to move to get out of bed with one goal in mind, but then she looks down at the grip she has of the new pink blanket and halts. She’s not home and her mother’s hospitalised. She can’t ask for her mother’s comfort right now.
Anna takes in a deep breath and falls back in bed again, pulling tightly onto the blanket. If she sleeps a bit more then perhaps she would somehow miraculously wake up feeling all better and she could soon push all these thoughts away and forget them. It’s futile and she knows it, but it’s the only thing she has going on. When she wakes up the second time, she feels just the same as she expected.
There’s a heavy weight settling upon her heart and she can’t shake it off no matter what. She trusts Hajime and Kai, yet all she can think of right now is her mother. Her mother has always been the sole person taking care of her and capable of making her feel better whenever she fell ill. There has never been any other person.
If she were to tell them she wasn’t feeling well, she would only be imposing further upon them.
There’s also some other part of Anna that realizes if she were to tell them, they would definitely take her to the hospital. It’s so effortless the way she remembers her last visit to a hospital; of the persistent, agonising ache in her ear and the way she felt her ever resilient and steady mother’s hand trembling while she held tightly to Anna.
She feels sick, but she can’t go to the hospital.
So she takes a deep breath and pushes the blankets aside for the second time this morning. If she doesn’t over exert herself and goes to sleep earlier today, she could wake up the next morning fully better and neither Hajime nor Kai would have to know.
There is one flaw to her plan however; Kai is too similar to her mother.
Anna is made aware of her blunder when it’s barely halfway through the day and she’s struggling to focus on her homework. She rubs her eyes and Kai asks her, “An-chan, are you alright?”
“Huh?” Anna looks up and finds Kai not too far away glancing at her.
“You seem really tired today.”
Anna forces a smile, “I’m fine. I’m a bit sleepy. I kept on waking up a lot last night.”
Kai’s concerned expression doesn’t fade away, “Did you have a bad dream?”
“No. I just couldn’t go back to sleep. But I’m okay. I’ll just sleep earlier tonight.”
Kai doesn’t seem fully convinced, but he nods and doesn’t ask her anything further.
She thinks Kai might have forgotten it, but when he tucks her in that night, it’s not before telling her, “If you can’t sleep or if there’s anything bothering you, you can wake us up anytime you need to, alright?”
Anna nods wordlessly and wishes him goodnight.
By the time the next morning arrives, every single sensation has worsened overnight. Her body is aching all over, the pain in her throat has intensified, and though she still hasn’t gotten out of bed or moved an inch, she is all drained already.
The bed is too comfortable and she wants to remain wrapped up by the blanket, but it’s the growing hollow feeling in her chest that has her shoving the blanket aside and rolling out of bed. She shivers instantly. She misses her mother and wants her comfort. Would it even be possible for her to gain any semblance of comfort in this state?
She dreads the thought of informing them of how ill she feels, but knows she can’t keep this up. Besides, one look at her and they would both pick up how horrible she feels. Especially Kai.
It’s still really early when she steps into the living room. The curtains are all closed, but the soft early sunlight is seeping in and the room is all softly lit by it. Hajime is still asleep on the sofa, but Kai’s by the kitchen counter tying the apron’s straps around his waist. There are a few ingredients and utensils spread atop the countertop, but it doesn’t seem he has started on breakfast yet.
Anna wraps her arms around herself, fighting back this odd way she’s feeling all cold, as she steps further in. Kai looks up at the sound of her footsteps. “Good morning, An-chan. Are you alright?”
“I think I’m getting sick.” Anna’s voice comes out all weak and strained as she speaks, “My throat hurts.”
Kai instantly drops everything and makes his way towards her.
“You sound different too. Are you cold?” When Anna nods, Kai gently pushes her hair aside and places the back of his hand against her forehead to check her temperature. He frowns, “You’re really warm.”
“You think I have a fever?” Anna asks when Kai moves his hand back.
“I need to check. Can you wait in the bedroom? I’ll be there in a second.”
Anna nods and goes back to the bedroom, plopping down on the side of the bed, while she waits until Kai comes back with the thermometer. Anna stays still as she awaits the thermometer to beep and watches Kai as he idly tidies up the blanket. When it beeps, Anna takes it out of her mouth and hands it to Kai without taking even a quick glimpse at the digits. Kai’s frown is enough for her to know what it says even before he speaks.
“You have a fever. It’s why you’re feeling all cold.” Kai sighs and looks back at her, “Why don’t you get back in bed and rest for now? I’ll wake you up when breakfast is ready.”
“Okay.”
Anna settles back in bed and Kai tucks her in again, “Call me if you need anything, alright?”
When Kai leaves, Anna notices the way he leaves the door ajar more than usual. Anna sighs and tries to sleep again. Despite her exhaustion and her heavy eyes, sleep still doesn’t come.
She spends her time lying still in bed staring blankly ahead, fighting back her thoughts from diving and pushing her into an endless spiral of reminiscing, until Hajime peeks inside the room sometime later.
He smiles gently when he notices her awake and steps inside the room, “Good morning. How are you feeling?”
He’s so uncharacteristically awake even though it’s still too early. Anna sits up in bed, shivering slightly when the blankets move aside, “Kai-kun told you I’m sick?”
“Yeah.” Despite it, he still places the back of his hand against Anna’s forehead like Kai did earlier to check her temperature. He frowns at how warm she seems. His voice is soft when he speaks again, “Breakfast is ready. Why don’t you try to eat something and then we’ll go to the hospital?”
She doesn’t want to go there without her mother. But she can’t confess that to Hajime without spilling out all that happened a couple of months ago. She can only nod and get out of bed.
She doesn’t have much of an appetite, but the miso soup is warm and soothes her sore throat, even if it’s temporary.
They leave after breakfast, but not before Kai tells Hajime to call him once they’re done. And now, Anna sits next to Hajime in the hospital’s waiting area watching him as he fills out a form.
The walls are a light tint of orange unlike the plain white ones at the last hospital she was in all those months ago. It’s a different hospital, but it’s so similar with the pale benches arranged all around the room, vibrant paintings and informational posters scattered against the wall, and the bright fluorescent lights reflecting against the glass frame it has her averting her gaze.
Her mother held her the entire time that day and never once left her side. Despite the pain and the hearing loss, Anna still felt some comfort because of her mother. Around her it’s mostly mothers accompanying their children, just like it was that day.
As far as she can remember, her mother took her to the clinic and her appointments whenever she fell ill. She can’t remember ever being in a waiting room alone with her father.
A sharp twinge spreads in her chest and she looks aside. At the other end of the room she notices a young couple with their child. There was a couple that day with their young child too. They were the only exception then. There are two exceptions today though.
Hajime is filling a box at the lower part of the form and Anna leans against him, peeking at the form, but not really reading anything off it.
“Mom always mentioned a medicine I’m allergic to, but I can’t remember its name.” Anna informs him when he places the form down.
“Your mother told me about it. I wrote it down.” True to his words, Anna notices something jotted down under the allergies section.
“When did she tell you?”
“The first time I visited her after you came over.” Hajime glances at her, “She gave me an entire list with all sorts of information that day.”
Anna isn’t sure what it is that has her murmuring without realising it, “I don’t know if Dad knows it.”
She ducks her head and leans further against him. Hajime is quiet for a second before he asks, “Your mother took you to the hospital every time, right?”
“Yes.”
If Hajime wants to add something to it, he doesn’t get a chance as they’re called in the next moment.
Anna feels her breathing hitch as she gets up and without ruminating over it, she reaches for Hajime’s hand. Hajime glances at her but doesn’t let go of her hand until they’re at the examination room and it’s Anna who lets go.
The doctor examines her and says it’s the flu. He talks nearly the entire time to Hajime, mentioning something about the weather changing, and how some kids are more prone than others to catch it. He then proceeds to ask if there’s someone at home to watch over and be by her side and Hajime answers it with a simple yes.
The doctor and the nurse most likely assume it’s her mother waiting for her back home. Anna holds Hajime’s hand again once they leave the room and remains quiet.
When they’re back home, Anna goes directly to the bedroom and after a change of clothes, hides under the blanket immediately. She can still make out the faint voices of Hajime and Kai, and Anna pulls on the covers tightly.
Hajime peeks inside the room before he leaves and spots her peeking at him from where she’s hiding underneath the covers, “Anna, I’m leaving now but Kai is here. If you need anything, let him know, alright?”
“Okay.” Anna mumbles out, voice muffled against the blanket, “Take care, Hakkun.”
Anna tries to rest and get some sleep, but she is all restless. Her body aches and she’s all worn out already, but her mind is content with staying alert and all caught up in a reminiscent mood.
If she pulls the blanket atop her head and hides completely beneath it, she can pretend the blanket she’s snuggling up in is the one her mother tucked her in with back at home. If she curls up on herself, she can pretend the bed’s spaciousness is only because she’s curling up in the center of her own bed. And if she shuts her eyes tightly, she can pretend the slight noises she picks up coming from outside the room is of her mother in the kitchen preparing porridge for Anna.
There’s a quiet clink and Anna smiles under the blanket, thinking of the porridge her mother is preparing. She turns in bed, peeking from beneath the blanket, and her gaze falls on the blue curtain.
That’s Kai in the kitchen and not her mother, the curtains remind her.
Her eyes sting with tears and she turns around in bed again, incapable of spending another moment with those curtains in sight. She focuses her gaze on the clothing rack in the corner of the room in between the one of Hajime’s and Kai’s, filled with her clothes. A little corner solely for Anna.
She can still hear Kai working in the kitchen. Hajime has gone to work and Kai is at home to take care of her.
Kai who irons Hajime’s shirts in the same order her mother irons her father’s shirts. Kai who lets Anna stand by his side and help him prepare their meals just like the way she stands by her mother’s side in their kitchen back home. Kai who cuts up different fruits for her and offers it to her like her mother did as a little snack to get her through while she finishes up her studies. Kai who is staying home to look after her like her mother always does.
He won’t make her mother’s porridge, but Anna is curious how it would taste if Kai were to make it. She’s stuck in a reverie, but it’s this thought that slowly eases her into falling asleep.
She isn’t certain how long she has been sleeping when she blinks her eyes open again, but she’s still as exhausted. She turns in bed and it isn’t much later when Kai peeks inside this time.
He smiles when he notices her awake and steps in, “How are you feeling now?”
She feels awful and she misses her mother terribly. But all she utters out is, “I’m okay.”
Kai’s little smile makes her believe her words weren’t convincing, not even the slightest. He still offers her kindness as he says instead, “I made porridge. Do you want me to bring it here for you or do you want to come outside?”
Anna shakes her head slightly, the movement only making her lightheaded, and she pushes herself up in bed, “I’ll come outside.”
In the living room, there’s a warm bowl of rice porridge awaiting her atop the dining table. She watches the steam coming off it as she plops down in her chair. Her mother might not have prepared it, but the familiar sight is enough to slightly loosen that weight on her heart, “Thank you, Kai-kun.”
“You never have to thank me for this.” Kai says and sits in the seat opposite her while Anna takes her first spoonful.
The rice is tender, light, and so easy to eat. It’s the ideal consistency of rice and water she’s familiar with. It’s so familiar, practically identical to her mother’s porridge, Anna tastes it again just to be sure and it remains just as warm and homey.
She hates the way her eyes are stinging again.
“Is it good?” Kai asks gently.
“Yes.” She takes in a deep breath and smiles up at Kai. Her voice barely comes out when she whispers, “It tastes a lot like the one Mom makes.”
There’s a gentleness in Kai’s smile that seems different than usual, but there’s still so much fondness pouring into his voice when he speaks, “Whenever I get sick, Hajime prepares this porridge for me. The first time he made it he told me he learned it from his sister. And since An-chan is sick now, I knew you needed something to make you feel better but also familiar, so I asked Hajime to tell me how to make it the way your mother does.”
It takes a few seconds for Kai’s words to fully sink in and Anna glances back at the porridge again; one warm bowl enough to soothe her heart and body, prepared with a familiar thoughtfulness she has been engulfed in her entire life, even if it comes from a different person this time.
It isn’t the same, but perhaps despite everything she believed, she can still experience comfort and be soothed by another pair of gentle hands.
“Then Kai-kun you understand me best,” Anna glances back at Kai, “How much this porridge can make you feel better.”
Kai nods, his voice so kind it warms Anna’s heart, “Yes. I guess that’s one thing we have in common.”
She takes her medicine afterwards and when she goes back to bed again, Kai tucks her in once more, “Kai-kun, can I ask for something?”
“Of course,” Kai smoothes out the blanket, “What is it?”
“When I’m sick and can’t sleep, my mom would sit next to me and we would talk until I fell asleep.” Kai leans back and glances at her as she mumbles out, “...Can we talk until I fall asleep?”
Kai nods with a gentle smile, “Okay.”
He ends sitting at one end of the bed, back against the headboard, and Anna holds her plushie tightly close to her.
“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about?” Kai asks, pulling on the blankets slightly to tuck Anna in.
It’s odd how his presence alone seems enough to quiet down her mind. She wonders if Hajime feels the same way around him.
“Today at the hospital it was mostly mothers with their children. There were these two parents with their child, but Hakkun was the only–” Dad. Anna bites back her tongue from uttering it and mumbles out, “It’s mostly mothers who take their children to the hospital. Mom used to always take me to the hospital too.”
Kai hums quietly. Anna scoots back just enough to glance up at him, “When we were leaving, there were these two women next to each other. I don’t know if Hakkun heard them, but one of them was telling the other, That’s a good father. I wish my husband was like that.”
It startles out a quiet laugh out of Kai, “If they were loud enough, then he definitely heard it.”
Anna giggles, “Right.” She settles further in, before she murmurs, “Is he?”
“Hmm?”
Kai looks towards her as she quietly asks, “...Is he a good husband?”
Kai doesn’t utter a word at first. When he does, his voice has taken a quieter tone matching hers, “Hajime and I are not married.”
“I know, but it always feels to me like you already are.”
“I guess with the life we have it does.”
Anna smiles and still as quietly repeats her earlier words, “Then is he?”
Kai looks away, but he lets out a quiet chuckle and nods, “He is.”
And is he a good father to me?
It’s right there on the tip of her tongue, but her wavering heart has her hesitating to utter it.
If her own father was, or rather is a good husband to her mother, has been on her mind for so long. But to tackle that thought, Anna has to consider if her father is a good father as well. He is her father, that’s all there is to it. She’s never thought about it more. He’s never been a good father or a bad one; he’s just her father. Nothing more nothing less.
She thinks of the women in the hospital again. They haven’t gotten a single idea regarding anything about their lives yet still made the assumption of Hajime being a good husband and father based on the fact he took Anna to the hospital all while letting her hold onto his hand.
These simple acts are well beyond her expectations of her father. If by this basis of comparison, then that would classify him as falling somewhere outside the “good” category. It doesn’t necessarily signify he must be labelled as “bad”. Just a somewhat different category, or maybe both. It’s all so complicated.
Perhaps it’s only complicated because of her. If Anna wasn’t as complicated, then wouldn’t her father be more direct with his love and she wouldn’t be struggling with this?
Anna pulls on her plushie again, “Kai-kun, can you tell Hakkun I’m sorry.”
“What for?” She picks up the concern tinged in Kai’s tone and she shakes her head.
“He went to work late today because of me.”
“That’s fine, An-chan. You shouldn’t apologise for that. Your health comes first.” Kai reassures her, though Anna still feels her heart wavering. She huffs out a little breath and Kai hums, “Besides, him going to work late is better than missing it completely. And I end up sometimes making him do that.”
Anna blinks up at him, “You do?”
Kai nods and lets out a quiet bashful laugh, “I end up getting him sick sometimes and then he ends up missing work.”
Anna hums, “That’s because Hakkun takes care of you when you’re sick. That just means he loves you.”
“It’s the same reason why he was late today. You mean a lot to him and he loves you a lot that he doesn’t care about going to work late because of it.” Kai pauses and when he speaks again, he’s got a gentle smile on display as he says, “Loving someone means you’ll end up inconveniencing them sometimes even though you don’t want to. But, then you realise they don’t consider it an inconvenience at all and they’ll gladly do it again if it meant you would end up feeling better.”
Anna’s heart feels all full and warm. She smiles at Kai when he adds in a voice just as soft, “We’re both lucky to have Hakkun. That’s another thing we have in common.”
The scents of the hospital sanitizer and disinfectants are all around her as Anna heads towards her mother’s hospital room. She’s memorised the path from the elevator to the room and the nurses recognise her by now. It’s long gone from being a new routine to a typical one. She wants these hospital walls to go back to being so foreign to her and to stop associating the scents of the disinfectants with her mother.
Anna stops by her mother’s room to knock on the door and slide it open. Her gaze instantly falls on her mother in her bed and she notes down the way her mother lightens up when she meets her eyes.
“Anna!”
She’s overwhelmed by a sudden lightness and she’s all giddy as she rushes to her bedside. She sets her bag down instantly to fall in her mother’s outstretched arms, “Mom, I missed you!”
“I’ve missed you so much too.” She shuts her eyes tightly, smiling in the hug, and being in her mother’s familiar warm embrace. She missed her so, so much. Her mother rubs her thumb in small, gentle soothing movements against her back and Anna settles further against her until her mother asks, “How are you? Hajime told me you weren’t feeling well last week.”
“I told him not to tell you!” Anna whines and leans back.
Her mother laughs and runs a hand through Anna’s hair, “I was worried when you didn’t visit like you always do, so I called him. But I’m glad you seem to be doing better now.”
“I’m all okay now.” Anna snuggles back in her mother’s embrace and sighs, “I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I’ll always worry about you, but I know you’re in good hands. Hajime told me Kai-kun was staying at home with you the entire time.”
“He did.” Anna hums, “Mom, do you remember when you taught Hakkun how to make rice porridge?”
“Yes, I remember it very well. I was really surprised when he asked me.” Her mother pauses and then asks, “Did Hajime make it for you?”
“No. But Kai-kun did. He asked Hakkun for the recipe.” Anna shifts back to get a better look at her mother, grinning all the while, “Apparently Hakkun makes it for Kai-kun when he is sick, even though Hakkun hates cooking.”
Her mother laughs, but it’s so gentle when she says, “They really care about each other, don’t they?”
“Yes.”
Her mother’s eyes soften as she tucks a stray strand of Anna’s hair back, “So Kai-kun made it for you following my recipe?”
Anna nods, “It did taste a lot like the one you make.”
“He’s really thoughtful.” There’s tenderness in her mother’s smile, a spark in her eyes, and her voice is so gentle when she says, “I’m really glad you and Hajime are in good hands.”
The relief in her words is more apparent than the gratitude Anna is expecting. It’s a little odd. But her mother did have her tendencies to worry. Perhaps she’s been more worried about Anna than she could have predicted.
Anna learns Hajime is, at the very least, an adequate cook on a random weekday.
Kai is working late today, but it doesn’t mean Anna is expecting Hajime to come back first and to be standing beside him helping him prepare dinner.
She peels the string off the snow pea and adds it to the bowl containing the rest of the pile. It’s the last of the ingredients to prepare, with everything else all chopped and ready nearby.
“Hakkun, I didn’t know you knew how to cook.” Anna says.
Beside her, Hajime sets a pan atop the stove and leaves it to preheat. “I was living alone before I met Kai.”
Anna discards the string and sets the snow pea aside before grabbing the final one. She stares at the peas inside the pod, all tucked beside each other in their little home.
“It feels weird to think there was a time you and Kai-kun didn’t know each other.”
When Anna looks back at Hajime, she finds him already glancing at her with a gentle expression, “We haven’t known each other for a very long time.”
Anna nods and focuses back on her task, “It still feels weird.”
Hajime and Kai created a home together here, one so different from Anna’s home. Because there is no possible situation she can call to mind that would have her standing alongside her father behind the kitchen counter. But it’s nice like this, she thinks. It’s impossible, but it would be nice if she could share a similar moment with her father. In it, they would prepare a meal together because though her mother does all the cooking, it doesn’t mean there’s a firm obligatory role forced upon her and she must be the one doing it all the time. Instead, they would help and take care of each other just like how families are supposed to all the time.
When you’re living with someone and you care about them, you both try to understand and make life easier for each other.
Those were Kai’s words the very first morning Anna spent it here and they’re still engraved in her mind.
There are roles to take in a family, Anna has been told so over and over again.
Ever since she first came here, she’s been observing and trying to understand Hajime and Kai’s dynamics. Kai cooks, does most of the housework, and reminds her so much of her mother in some of his qualities and mannerism. It would make sense he would be fulfilling the same role as her mother. And following that line of reasoning, Hajime should fulfill the same role as her father.
But she’s come to know her initial assumptions are way off. Hajime is cooking tonight and that is so misplaced with what role she assumed he’d be filling. And that’s not where it begins nor ends. Hajime is nowhere close to being similar to her father in any way, be it both by his mannerisms and personality, and his relationship with Kai and Anna.
Hajime and Kai’s relationship is far different than her parents.
It doesn’t make any sense with what she’s gotten used to and she can’t understand what does it all mean, what are the roles to take in a family, yet she finds herself preferring it this way despite all her confusion.
Anna places the snow peas aside and stares at the chopped carrots in the bowl beside it, “Hakkun, can I use the cutter and cut these into little hearts?”
“You can, but do you know where Kai keeps them?”
Anna finds the tiny set of cutters in one of the kitchen drawers where she spotted Kai store them last time. It’s barely been a week since they got the vegetable cutters and Kai had only gotten the chance to use it once. He had cut out the carrots in little hearts for Anna’s portion of the salad and it made her so happy over such a small act. She can’t ever repay Kai for everything he’s done for her, but this she can do.
She picks up the heart shaped cutter and presses it down with a firm push against one of the carrot slices. When she pulls her hand back, she finds it perfectly sliced into a tiny heart.
“Hakkun, look.” Anna holds out the sliced carrot for Hajime.
“You want to cut all of them?” Hajime asks as he glances at the bowl.
Anna nods. She plans on getting started on the other pieces, but stares at the cutter before looking back at Hajime, “Can you try cutting one out?”
“Huh?” Hajime looks at the cutter when she holds it out for him and takes it from her but not before asking, “Alright, but why?”
“For Kai-kun. There should be at least one of them made by you.”
When Hajime doesn’t move to cut the carrot and instead just stares blankly at her, Anna pouts slightly.
“Just cut one out please.” Hajime sighs in resignation, filling Anna with delight knowing he won’t refuse her little request. She watches him as he presses against one of the slices and cuts out another heart shaped piece, “This one is definitely going into Kai-kun’s plate. It’ll make him happy to know it’s from you.”
Hajime hands Anna the cutter back as he goes back to preparing the rest of the dinner, “Knowing it was your idea will make him happier.”
“But it will still make him happy if it’s from Hakkun. When I was sick Kai-kun told me you make him porridge when he’s not feeling well and it makes him feel better.” Anna picks up the heart shaped carrot and hums as she places it aside, “I think you hate cooking Hakkun, but you love Kai-kun so much that you don’t mind cooking for him, even on days like today.”
“...Anna, don’t you have the rest of the carrots to slice?”
Anna giggles at the obvious attempt to change the topic, but doesn’t say anything else. She’s halfway done with the carrots and Hajime is placing the cooked chicken out of the pan and onto the tray when Kai arrives back home.
“I’m back.”
“Welcome back.”
It feels odd to be standing behind the counter with Hajime and welcoming Kai back when it’s always the opposite way around, but it still doesn’t feel wrong. Kai smiles at them when he spots them, despite how tired he seems.
Anna holds up one of the carrot pieces, “Kai-kun, look. I used the heart cutters again.”
Kai joins their side behind the counter, his steps slightly slower than usual, “They turned out great.”
Anna points to the one she purposely kept aside from the pieces, “Hakkun cut this one for you.”
“You did?” Kai turns in his spot, his attention solely on Hajime now, and takes a step closer to him. When Hajime turns to face him, Kai doesn’t await a response and instead leans against him for a quick hug, his head resting atop his shoulder. Although with how tired and slow his movements are, it’s more akin to him slumping against Hajime, “Because you knew how tired I would be?”
“Thank you for your hard work. Go and sit down already.” Despite his words, Hajime still wraps his arms around Kai and it earns him a quiet chuckle from Kai before he leans back. He’s standing by Hajime, not fully extracting himself from his side just yet, as he asks him something about their dinner. Hajime still has a hand resting against Kai’s back and hasn’t pulled it back entirely yet.
There is a familiarity in the hug, with how Kai instantly rested against Hajime in such a habitual way and how Hajime already had his arms around him, well attuned with Kai. It’s a simple, quick hug fully acting upon their instincts with how familiar they are to one another.
It’s another sight Anna won’t ever get to witness at home.
Everything is so confusing. When Anna first arrived, Kai was a stranger she only knew of his name and there was a fleeting moment of uncertainty and doubt whether he would end up resembling her father or not. At the time, if she was asked she would have answered Hajime was like her mother with his kindness and patience towards Anna. Thinking of it now it all seems so ridiculous at how different it all actually is.
Hajime is kind, patient, thoughtful, and loves her much like her mother, but there’s a slight difference in it, like it has a different tint to it. Kai is much more like her. His kindness, warmth, and thoughtfulness resembles her mother’s in so many ways.
But Hajime isn’t like her father.
If a family is a huge puzzle, then Anna’s family is one huge puzzle with so many missing pieces it’s impossible to comprehend what form it is shaping into. Her mother and father hold different pieces. It makes sense with what her father always said with how they have different duties and roles. The pieces they bring into this family would be different, but she doesn’t think their pieces would ever meet; they have so many missing pieces.
If she were to think of her life over here though, Kai would hold the same pieces as her mother, while Hajime wouldn’t hold the same pieces as her father. But Hajime and Kai would meet in the middle. They would create a whole puzzle and then so easily shape it to include Anna in their little family.
If Kai is like her mother then logically Hajime would have to fill the other role. Isn’t that how it’s all supposed to go? But Hajime isn’t like her father. It’s all too confusing unless she were to take a step back and consider that maybe her father has been wrong about all of this.
Hajime and Kai are simply Hajime and Kai. They aren’t living or guided and constrained by some roles they didn’t define themselves.
There are no constraining roles in this family. They are only parents and a child; they are only family members guided by their love towards one another.