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Homepage Lori McDonald
November 1997
He dreamed of birds.
There were thousands of them, feathered bodies flying though the sky, forming flocks that darkened the sky. Millions of pigeons, going about their lives.
Then, to his horror, they began to fall. One at a time or in droves, they were struck down, burned to ash or blown to pieces by a dark shape that loomed over them. It was a cougar, he saw, and it was killing the pigeons.
Suddenly, he saw a new flock of birds, only five, but they didn’t flee from the cougar. There was an eagle, its feathers a solid white, a great condor with blood dripping from its talons, a graceful swan with a swallow doing loops around it, and an owl trailing behind. They flew straight at the cougar, which turned to face them, roaring. It fought back, destroying more pigeons in the process, but they fought back, harrying it, driving it into retreat no matter how it tried to advance. Finally, the cougar was all but defeated, but its claws lashed out. They bit deep into the breast of the condor. It screamed, but the others pressed the attack and the cougar dropped in defeat. Victorious, the birds flew up, but they were only four now, the condor lying in a broken heap, far far below.
Ken woke with a start, a scream half on his lips as he realized he wasn’t alone in his room.
"Easy, Ken, it’s all right."
Blinking at the sound of the reassuring voice, Ken sat up and looked around, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting coming through the window. It was still night, the moon shining above. His room was neat and tidy as always, though his toys and clothes looked odd in the darkness. As did Hakase Nambu, more a shadow than his guardian. He was bending over the other bed against the far wall, tucking the blankets up around the boy who hadn’t been lying there when Ken went to sleep.
Ken’s eyes widened. "Hakase, wh-"
Nambu straightened and put a finger to his lips as he came over to sit on the side of his bed. "Quiet, Ken, you don’t want to wake him."
Ken stared at the boy. "Who is he?"
Nambu looked at the sleeping boy as well. "His name is Joe. He’s your new foster brother."
Ken blinked. "He is? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?"
In the dim light, Nambu looked sad. "Because I didn’t know. His parents just died, so be kind to him."
Ken’s eyes were huge. "Died? How?" Ever since his own father died, death had been a scary subject for him. At least his mother was still alive. He didn’t know how anyone could handle losing both parents.
Nambu pushed him down into the bed, tucking him in as well. "That doesn’t matter. All you need to know is his name is Joe, he’s your brother, and he doesn’t speak any Japanese, so you have to teach him. And he just had an operation, so no roughhousing, and keep him quiet. He needs to heal. I have to leave for awhile, so you’re the man of the house."
Ken yawned. This didn’t seem too bad. A brother his own age might be fun. "Does Mother know he’s here?"
"Yes, she does. Now go to sleep."
Ken yawned again and obeyed.
In the morning, Ken woke and rolled onto his side, to find himself being stared at by wide gray eyes from the other bed. Huddled under the blankets as he was, that was the only part of him he could see, along with a thatch of dark blonde hair.
"Good morning," Ken called cheerfully, hopping out of bed. The sun was up and already shining through the window. "How are you feeling?"
The eyes stared at him.
Belatedly, Ken remembered that Hakase said he didn’t speak any Japanese. Of course, he didn’t say what language he did speak, either. Ken knew some English, so he tried that. Joe just kept staring. Then his eyes narrowed and he ducked under the covers.
"Gee, how rude."
"Not rude. He doesn’t know English either."
Ken turned to see his mother standing in the doorway in a silk kimono, smiling at him. Grinning, he went to hug her. She smelled, as always, of lavender and soap. "What does he speak, Mother?"
"Italian," she replied, stepping away from him to sit on the side of the boy’s bed. The lump that was the newcomer scuttled to the end of the bed, away from her. "Or rather, Sicilian."
"Oh."
Ken’s mother tapped the lump and said something Ken didn’t understand. The lump didn’t respond. She smiled and kept talking, not seeming to mind that she didn’t get a response. Ken frowned, not liking that the boy was ignoring his mother, then grabbed his towel and stomped off to the shower.
He came back ten minutes later to find the boy kneeling sleepily on the bed, rubbing his eyes. He was wearing blue pajama bottoms and there were bandages taped around his middle. The second Ken came in, he stiffened, glaring at him.
Ken stopped, not sure what to do. "Why is he staring at me?"
"Because he doesn’t know you," his mother replied. "Why don’t you say something to him?"
"But he can’t understand me."
"I’ll translate for you."
Ken thought a moment. He didn’t know if he liked this silent stranger, but Hakase had said to be nice to him. And he WAS the man of the house. He should be polite.
"Hello," he said.
His mother translated. The boy looked at her, then at him and his chin jutted out stubbornly. Ken’s mother gestured for him to continue.
Ken shuffled his feet nervously. "Uh, welcome to our house. Hakase Nambu says that I’m your new brother. My name is Ken. This is my mother, Sayuri Washio, but she’s your new mom too, so you can call her Mother," he added, feeling generous.
The boy didn’t take that offer nearly as well as he hoped. His eyes widened and he went white. Then he screamed something and surged off the bed, almost falling in the process. Sayuri tried to catch him, but he hit her and ran. Ken turned white himself. He’d HIT his mother?!
"Come back here!" He yelled, chasing him down the stairs.
"Ken!" Sayuri called. "He’s just frightened! Ken!"
Obediently, Ken stopped on the stairs, watching sullenly as the boy ran in confusion through the downstairs of the two story house they rented, then vanished into the living room. Taking a deep breath, Ken walked into the living room, determined to be civil. Only he couldn’t see Joe at all.
His mother walked in behind him. "He’s hiding, mother," he told her.
"I know, Ken." She said something in Sicilian, waited, then said something more.
"What did you say to him?" Ken asked in wonderment as he heard a snuffling sound coming from under one of the couches.
"Just that I’m not trying to replace his mother." She went over to the chair and knelt. "Why don’t you go make yourself some breakfast, Ken?" Her voice was gentle, but she was definitely giving an order so Ken went into the kitchen and started pulling bacon and eggs out of the fridge, trying to ignore the sound of his mother speaking a language he didn’t understand and the deep wracking sobs that accompanied her.
Every few years since his father died, they’d moved. From Japan to America, to China, and back to Japan, always renting a little house somewhere close to places where Ken could learn. Not just math, reading and history, though he did learn those, at an accelerated rate, but so he could learn martial arts, explosives, weaponry, and dozens of other skills from the masters. Hakase was there much of the time, though not always, but his mother was always around, watching silently and proudly. It was partly to please her that Ken excelled, though he’d known since he was six what he was training for, and how important it was. He was to be the leader of a special force, and he had a strong feeling that his new brother was to be a part of the same team. Hakase had said he was in the process of assembling them, and that they were supposed to number five in total. Ken wasn’t sure how much five kids could do, but according to Hakase, they could do a lot, so he didn’t worry about it.
His newest sensei, a tiny old man who could toss full grown men around like they were dolls, was visiting his granddaughter in the little fishing village at the base of the mountain, so Ken practiced alone, kicking high at the air, then spinning in midstep and slashing where a man’s neck would be - if he were Ken’s size. His breathing was steady, his heartbeat calm, and he hadn’t been up to it long enough to work up a sweat.
Behind him, he heard a door open, and turned to see his mother herding the boy out the back door into the yard. He didn’t seem to mind, busy munching on a piece of bread slathered with jam and holding a glass of milk. Sayuri pushed him out and smiled at Ken, then closed the door, headed back inside.
The boy saw Ken and stopped in midbite. He stared at him, then his eyes narrowed and he tore at the bread savagely, getting more jam on his shirt than in his mouth in the process. Ken sighed, wondering what his problem was. The boy just stomped down the stairs and walked arrogantly past him, his nose in the air. They were about the same height, he saw, but the boy’s skin was olive toned, a shade he’d never seen before in Japan.
"Why are you so mean?" Ken demanded, ignoring the fact that the boy couldn’t understand him. "I never did anything to you."
The boy glared at him and went to sit on the stump that Ken had always considered to be his. It had ivy growing on it and the splinters were all sanded out so it was safe to sit on.
Ken turned red and went to stand in front of him, his hands on his hips. "Get off that," he ordered. "That’s my seat." He had to obey, he decided. He was supposed to be his commander, after all.
Apparently, no one had told the boy that. He stuck his tongue out at him.
Ken sputtered. "Jerk!"
The boy may not have understood the word, but he did understand the tone. He ate the last of his bread, then took a swallow of his milk and tossed the rest in Ken’s face.
"You- you!"
The boy smiled and extended his middle finger.
Ken lunged at him. "I’ll get you!"
For years, Ken had trained as a martial artist and already had a black belt in two disciplines and browns in three others, but he forgot all of that as he and the boy grappled and fought on the ground, fighting as all little boys do.
"You’re a creep!" Ken screamed. "You don’t belong here!" The boy was yelling something back at him, throwing punches. They rolled across the ground.
"Stop it!" Sayuri yelled. "Stop it now!"
She grabbed both boys by the collar and yanked them apart, much stronger than normal in her anger. "Are you mad?! How could you do this?"
Ken gasped in her grip, bruised and gasping. The boy glared at him, one eye sporting a shiner that looked even blacker on his white face. Sayuri released him, still keeping a grip on her own son. "Joe?"
The boy looked at her, staggering back a few steps. He shook his head and said one word, decisively as he pointed at himself. "George," he said clearly, then fainted dead away.
Hospitals smelled horrible, and they were bare, and sterile, with no place for little boys to play. Ken didn’t care. He just sat in one of the orange plastic chairs, hands clasped in his lap and blaming himself for what had happened. They’d had to take poor Joe - George? - away in an ambulance and his mother had come close to screaming at him as she phoned Hakase, then dragged him out to the car and drove them both to the hospital. She was in the emergency room with the boy now, leaving Ken in the empty waiting room.
How could he have forgotten what Hakase said? He knew Joe just had an operation. He was supposed to keep him quiet, not punch him in the stomach right in his stitches. Ken sniffed, sure that the boy would never like him now.
He didn’t even know if he was going to be alright. Probably to punish him, his mother hadn’t said anything. Either that or she didn’t know. Ken bit his lip. He had to find out for sure.
Looking around, he saw no one looking in his direction, so he stood and hurried over to the emergency room door. He’d been trained to move unseen as well, and no one saw him as he slipped inside.
There were a series of beds curtained off from one another and an open area with a few tables for patients and a whole lot of other equipment. Ken spotted his mother immediately, standing next to one of the main tables, saying something in Sicilian to the boy who squirmed and shrieked on top while four nurses tried to hold him down. Ken grinned in spite of himself, sneaking up to the last curtain to see better. The doctor looked more harassed than worried, holding a needle but not able to get it anywhere near the cursing boy’s arm. Maybe Joe wasn’t hurt as badly as he’d thought.
"Hello."
Ken jumped about a foot and spun around, dropping automatically into a defense posture. The bed in the curtained alcove was occupied by a chubby boy about a year younger than his eight. He had messy hair and his right arm was in a sling. Ken relaxed.
"Don’t scare me like that!"
The boy grinned lazily. "Sorry about that. What are you doing?"
They both heard a spate of what Ken was sure were Sicilian curses. He grimaced. "Seeing how my brother is doing,"
The boy twitched the curtain by him aside a bit to take a peek. "Him? Nasty. He doesn’t look like you."
"He’s my foster brother. He speaks Sicilian."
"Good thing. I don’t think I want to know what he’s saying." He let the curtain fall and extended his good hand. "My name’s Ryu."
Ken took it. "Ken. The psycho is Joe. I think."
"You aren’t sure of your own brother’s name?"
Ken blushed. "I’ve only known him since this morning."
"And you already put him in the hospital?" Ryu whistled. "I hope I get along better with my brother when he grows up."
On the other side of the curtain, the curses slowed, then stopped. Ryu took another peek and Ken joined him to see the doctor had finally gotten the needle into Joe and the boy had promptly fallen asleep. He was busy stitching his stomach back up.
"Wow, blood," Ryu whispered. "I just dislocated my shoulder." He almost sounded disappointed.
Ken gestured for him to be silent.
"Thank you, doctor," Sayuri was saying. "I’m sorry he’s been so much trouble."
The doctor chuckled. "Boys are supposed to be trouble. I would like to know how he got these shrapnel wounds, though."
Ken’s eyes widened. Shrapnel?
Sayuri smiled. "There was an accident. Unfortunately, his parents died in it. I’m taking care of him now since he has no living relatives."
"That’s very kind of you."
Ken turned away, no longer listening. Shrapnel wounds... Somehow, he doubted that Joe got those wounds in any accident. Had someone tried to kill him? He shook his head, thinking it through. No, no one wanted to kill kids. They must have been after his parents, and not cared if Joe lived or not. Or they were still after him. Joe’d called himself George. Joe must be a name Hakase gave him, to hide him. If Joe were just a normal kid, he’d be called George still and would be living with a foster family in Sicily, not living with Ken and his mother above a Japanese fishing village so small most of Japan didn’t know about it. So Joe was on the run. Satisfied with his logic, Ken leaned back.
"I think they’re finishing up," Ryu warned suddenly. "You mother’s coming this way."
Ken winced. "Thanks," he said and scurried out before she could see him.
"You’re welcome," Ryu called after him.
Carefully, Ken walked up the stairs, balancing a tray with a full dinner plate and a glass of milk on it. It’d been three days since Joe came back from the hospital and he was still confined to bed. Hakase had come back briefly to check on him, and give Ken a long lecture on responsibility to team members, confirming that yes, he and Joe would be working together. He wouldn’t say anything more though, and left again soon after. So Ken took it upon himself to be friends with Joe, but it seemed that the only time the boy would even acknowledge him was when he brought him something. Sayuri just told him to keep trying and he would win him over.
Ken nudged the door open with his foot and went into their room. Joe was sitting propped up in bed, and as Ken watched, he tossed a dart at a target on the wall at the foot of the bed. It hit dead centre.
"Wow! You’re good!"
The boy looked at him and turned away.
Ken walked over. "I got your dinner for you," he singsonged, knowing Joe still didn’t understand him, but Hakase said that surrounding him with Japanese was the fastest way for him to learn, so he kept talking to him whenever they were together. "I’ve got rice and fish. Fresh catch too. It’s great."
He held the tray down so he could see. Joe looked and shuddered in distaste. "What’s wrong with it? I cooked it myself."
Joe looked at his hurt expression and his lip twisted. Grabbing the tray, he put it in his lap and began eating sullenly.
"You don’t like fish, do you?" Ken realized, watching him grimace at the taste. "But you’re in Japan now, so you have to learn to like it. We eat a lot of fish here." Joe’s eyes flickered up and he said something in Sicilian.
"What was that?"
Joe repeated it more slowly.
Ken shook his head. "I still can’t understand you."
Joe wrinkled his face, then pointed at the fish deliberately and made puking motions. Ken grinned. "So you don’t like it. I do." He pointed at the fish himself, then rubbed his stomach and smacked his lips. "See? Good."
Apparently, Joe didn’t. Picking up the fish, he tossed it unerringly over his shoulder and out the half open window. "Hey!"
He looked at the boy in shock, and his surprise increased when he saw Joe was actually GRINNING at him. In spite of himself, he laughed. "Okay, so what do you want?"
The boy said something questioningly and cocked his head to one side.
"What-do-you-want?" He repeated slowly. "Oh, this is never going to work." Picking up the tray, he set it aside and yanked Joe’s blankets back. "Come on."
Joe looked at him suspiciously.
"Aw, come on." Ken rubbed his stomach, smacking his lips, and pointed at the door. "Let’s go." Joe seemed to understand this time and nodded eagerly. Wincing, he climbed out of bed and followed him out the door.
Ken crept with exaggerated motions so Joe would understand he wanted him to be silent. His mother tired easily, but she might still be awake and she was inflexible about the rule of no-snacking between meals. Plus, Joe was supposed to stay in bed.
Silently, the two boys crept down the stairs in the dark. Joe was quieter than he would have expected and he turned to grin at him. Joe grinned back. He definitely had a rogue inside him.
They reached the kitchen and Ken pulled the door of the fridge open, its light casting a rectangle on the dark floor. Immediately, Joe pushed past him and began rummaging. "Keep it down!" Ken hissed.
Joe went straight for the apple pie, pulling out a wedge and eating it with his hands. Ken watched in amazement as he downed that and started drinking pop right out of the bottle. "Wow... You’re a real pig. Or you’re really hungry."
Joe went through most of the desserts and junk food that Sayuri kept and doled out so sparingly. Cookies, ice cream, candy, cake... He offered to share at one point, and after a moment’s hesitation, Ken joined in in the name of brotherly camaraderie. They piled the empty plates around them, licking them clean first before diving back in for more.
Joe pulled out two cans and opened them, handing one to Ken. Ken took a swallow and almost gagged on the bitter taste, then realized in horror that he was drinking Hakase’s imported beer. "Whoa, we can’t drink this!"
The boy looked at him and took a defiant swallow.
"Joe, we’re going to get into trouble."
He took another swallow. Ken realized he was challenging him. The leader he was training to be told him that this was stupid, but the eight year old boy couldn’t turn away. Taking up his can, he started to choke it down. Joe laughed.
They drank the entire six pack, more than enough to keep them from cleaning up the mess, or getting back to bed, which meant Sayuri and the returning Nambu had no trouble finding them amongst the dirty dishes in front of the open fridge in the morning.
"I have NEVER seen such disgraceful behaviour in my life. I am very disappointed in you, Ken."
Ken bowed his head as Nambu turned and spoke in stilted Sicilian to Joe, probably saying the same thing to him. Joe just shrugged, but Ken was humiliated. Besides the splitting headache, he felt terrible ashamed, and horrified that he’d been so disrespectful to his Guardian and his mother. Sayuri sat demurely in the corner, watching everything silently. That was even worse in a way than the scolding.
"Mother, Hakase, I’m so sorry," he whispered.
Nambu sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "I know, Ken, and I suspect you were influenced." He shot a glance at Joe, who glared at him and said something in Sicilian. Nambu replied, but Joe interrupted, his voice shrill. Nambu raised a hand, saying something else, and Joe got up and stomped out of the room.
Nambu looked at Ken. "He’s grounded," he told him. "And so are you. I don’t want this episode repeated. Do you understand?"
Ken nodded vigorously. "Yes, Hakase."
"Good. Now go clean up the kitchen and always remember. He may not know it, but Joe is your subordinate. You will ALWAYS be responsible for him."
"Yes, Hakase," Ken agreed in all seriousness.
It took hours to get the kitchen back up to Sayuri’s standards. Ken worked silently, wishing Joe was there to help, but knowing that would just aggravate his healing wounds. Besides, it was his fault. Joe had no training, he probably didn’t even know why he was there. He hadn’t had the chance to develop self discipline. Ken had, so he bore the blame for what happened. At least the work seemed to lessen his hangover.
While he worked, Nambu talked to Sayuri, then left again. As always, Ken wondered where he went, but then, if he needed to know, Nambu would have told them. Ken finished scrubbing the floor and tossed the sponge into the bucket as his mother came in.
"I need to go to a doctor’s appointment," she told him. "Will you and Joe be all right alone?"
"Yes, mother."
She smiled. "You’re a mother’s delight, Ken." She went out.
Ken dumped out the dirty water while he listened to her car pull away. It was almost lunch time and he was hungry, so he went back in and made a sandwich for himself, and one for Joe, careful to wipe the crumbs off the counter when he was done. Carrying the two sandwiches, he went upstairs to their room.
"Joe? I got you some lunch." He pushed the door open and went in. The bed was empty.
Startled, Ken looked down the hall towards the bathroom and saw that the door was wide open. It was empty too. He looked back into the room and saw that the drawers on Joe’s dresser were yanked open, the clothes Sayuri’d bought for him gone, as was Ken’s favourite backpack. The window was open and right outside was a tree he’d loved to climb ever since they moved there. It’d be easy for Joe to climb down it, even with his stitches. A note lay on the pillow, but when Ken looked at it, he saw it was written in Sicilian.
"Oh no!" He looked out the window, but there was no sign of anybody. "Joe!" No answer.
In his mother’s desk was a number, which he knew he was to call if there was ever an emergency, but Ken didn’t know if calling it was such a good idea. It would get Hakase back right away, but then he’d be angry. Joe had already made him mad more than once. What if he decided he wasn’t good enough for the team and sent him away? Where would he go? No. He squared his shoulders. He was the leader of the team, even if it was just a team of two and Joe didn’t know about it, and Joe was HIS responsibility.
Quickly, Ken ran back downstairs and wrapped the sandwiches. Grabbing his coat, he stuffed the food into his pocket and ran out the door, headed down the main road towards the town.
"JOE! Joe, where are you!"
Ken went up to a fisherman, working on a net while sitting on an old barrel on a wharf. "Excuse me," he bowed, "but have you seen a little boy about my size, a gaijin? He doesn’t speak Japanese but I think he swears a lot." The fisherman shook his head and Ken bowed again. "Thank you anyway."
He kept walking. He’d been searching the town for Joe for three hours and now he was starting to wonder if Joe had even come to the town at all. He might have hiked out to the highway and hitched a ride, and if he had, Ken would never find him. Biting his lip at the thought of what his mother would say, he went on to the next fisherman, bent over an engine.
"Excuse me-"
The fisherman raised his head and he blinked as he recognized him. "Ryu?"
Ryu blinked too, his face and hands blackened by grease. "Ken?" He broke into a wide smile. "Hey, how are you doing? I didn’t think I’d see you again. How are you?"
Ken shrugged. "Not too good. I lost Joe."
Ryu’s jaw dropped. "You lost him?"
"He ran away."
"Oh." He looked around. "Well, I haven’t seen him and I’ve been here all day."
Ken jammed his hands into his pockets. "Oh, well, thanks anyway." He turned to go.
"Hey, wait up a second!" He turned back. "Wait a minute and I’ll help you look for him."
Ken immediately brightened. "Thanks!"
"So, why did he run away?" Ryu asked, munching on one of his sandwiches.
Ken peered down an alley, continuing on when all he saw was a stray cat. "I don’t know. I don’t think he likes any of us. Come to think of it, I don’t think he likes anyone."
"Maybe he’s just frustrated. He still can’t talk to anyone, right?"
"My mother knows Sicilian," he protested. "So does Hakase Nambu."
"Great. Adults." Ryu gave a great shudder and grinned. "I don’t think I’d like it if I just had adults to talk to."
Ken frowned. "I talk to him all the time. He’s supposed to learn Japanese from me."
"Maybe he doesn’t want to learn Japanese."
"I don’t think he’s got a choice. He’s living in Japan, at any rate."
"Well," Ryu frowned thoughtfully. "Have you tried to learn Sicilian?"
"No."
"Then he’s probably pissed off because he has to do all the work."
Ken thought about that. Ryu certainly did have a point, one he hadn’t really thought of. Joe had gone through a lot, what with losing his parents and getting hurt, and then being stuck with a bunch of people he didn’t know who didn’t all speak the same language, or eat the same food. Frowning, Ken wondered how he’d react in the same situation. Maybe he’d run away too.
"Wait here a sec." Ryu darted off while Ken looked at his reflection in a store window. He had messy black hair like any Japanese boy, but his eyes were a brilliant blue. They always made him stand out. How would Joe feel with his olive skin and sandy hair, and his accent? Ken started to feel remarkably like a heel.
Ryu puffed up a few minutes later. "Where did you go?" he asked.
The boy just grinned at him and waved a small book. "To get the right ammunition." Flipping it open, he ran his hand down the text, then pursed his lips, reading silently a moment, grimaced, and looked up.
Ken had no idea what he yelled, but it sounded faintly Joe-like.
"What is that book?"
"A Sicilian/Japanese dictionary. I checked it out of the library."
"Great!"
Together, they walked through the town, ignoring the odd looks they got as they yelled what they hoped was a plea for Joe to come back. After twenty minutes with no luck, however, Ken began to think that Joe had in fact gone to the highway.
Then he heard a laugh.
Surprised, he looked towards the laugh, but all he saw was a bunch of bushes. Encouraged, Ryu flipped to a new page and said a long, slow sentence. They heard a snort and the bushes waved, but that was all.
"What did you say to him?" Ken whispered.
"I think I said it was nice to meet him and would he like to come back to my house to have some fish."
"He hates fish."
"Oh." Ryu flipped desperately. "Maybe I should try something simple. What’s hello?" He said a word, staring at the bush.
Nothing.
Ryu repeated the word, changing the inflection and ending it as a question.
For a moment there was silence, then they heard a sigh and Ken almost jumped for joy as Joe crawled part of the way out from under the bush and glared at them. He was filthy, twigs in his hair and dirt on his face, and Ken tried not to cringe thinking of how his bandages looked. Joe stared at him for a moment sullenly, then looked at Ryu and said the word he’d tried, with a third inflection. Ryu tried to repeat it unsuccessfully and he said it again.
Ken licked his lips and said it the same as Joe had. [Hello].
Joe’s head jerked around to stare at him. [What do you want?]
It took almost five minutes of flipping before Ryu and Ken figured out what he said, then another ten to work out an answer. [I want you come home.]
[It’s not my home! I don’t want to live there!]
Twenty minutes of searching, then...
[Where go? I know what happen to parents. They die. You need us.]
Joe’s eyes brimmed even as his chin jutted out defiantly. [I don’t need anybody.]
Ken flipped quickly while Ryu stood back and watched, knowing better than to get involved in this.
[You...] he searched for the word. [Need family. We be family.]
Joe growled. [I don’t want a new mother, or a new father. I have parents!] His voice faded. [Had parents...]
Ken sat down beside him. [That okay. You had brother?]
Joe shook his head. [No.]
Ken grinned as he struggled with his pronunciation. [I be brother. So not take place. Making new place.]
Joe blinked, working out his meaning, then looked confused. [You want to be my brother?]
Ken nodded. [Yes.]
[Why?]
Ken shrugged, a little embarrassed. [I never had brother either. Would like munchly.]
Joe suddenly chuckled. [Munchly?]
[Not word?]
He sighed. [It’s a word now. It’s a great word.] He looked up, looking tired. [Can we go home?]
Ken nodded without daring to smile and stood, holding out his hand. [Yes,] he assured him. [You can always come home.]
Silently, Owashi no Ken climbed the hill above the small fishing village. Below, Ryu was visiting his parents and brother, and introducing Jun and Jinpei to the taste of fresh fish. Not feeling hungry, he’d climbed up the hill along an old road he hadn’t used in years. It looked like no one had, and when he reached the house he’d lived in for a time as a child, he saw it was boarded up. It was kind of sad, but good too, to see it basically unchanged from when his mother had been alive and living there.
Ken sighed. It’d been a long time since he’d thought of his mother, confused as he always was by the reappearance and subsequent death of his father. He still hadn’t worked that out, though the rage was gone.
He walked around to the back of the house and stopped. Joe was sitting on the old stump there, his wings wrapped around him against the chill in the air as he drank from a small canteen he carried. He saw Ken and tossed it to him. "Have some."
Ken chuckled as he wiped the mouth. "You know, for a second there I thought you were going to toss it in my face."
Joe laughed. "I haven’t thought of that in years. What a way to get to know someone."
Ken grinned and walked over. "Oh, it showed me exactly what kind of man you were."
"So it did." Joe looked up at the house. "I didn’t think we’d ever come back here. This was before Jun, and I doubt Jinpei was even born yet... kinda before Ryu too." He shook his head. "It was just us, and Sayuri."
Ken sat beside him. "Yeah. It was a good couple of years, wasn’t it?"
"Once I learned Japanese, it was. Remember what you said to me when I ran away?"
"I said you could always come home."
Joe smiled, relaxed for once. Ken hadn’t seen him like that in years, and he knew it wouldn’t last, so he savoured the quiet.
"So," he asked. "Is it good to come home?"
"Oh, yes. It’s munchly good."
"Munchly?" He teased.
"Definitely munchly. Definitely."
THE END
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