Chapter 13:

The Parents of the Bride

Starfish Children

Dear Mother and Father,

I do not know how long it has been nor if you’re still alive.

It’s ironic. This gift you have given me provides me an

richness of time and yet, it makes it so that I completely

disregard it. Still, I hope by writing this, my heart expresses

to you the things that I am feeling along this lonesome road.

For the longest time I was afraid to hold on to something for

fear of it passing in my hands. Eternity as you might know it

is but the passing of a few year:A house, a boat, a dog.

But here I write to tell you that I’ve met someone who’s made

me forget all of that. We’re getting married at that shrine with

the torii gates. Her name is-

(The rest of the letter is smudged by sea water and blood)

Love,

Your Starfish Child

“That will be ¥8000 please.” said the clerk to the young woman. She nodded. Hitomi’s wallet was rather full since she had gotten her new job. Apparently she was rather good at following orders from emails from a boss she couldn’t see.

“Thank you, Miss.” The elderly man passed her the ticket. Hitomi silently cheered. It’s been a while since she had been confused for a little girl. Her hair had grown back out much thicker and curlier. She flipped it back proudly, finally feeling like a woman.

It had been three years since her run in with the immortals, and things have been quiet since. The moment she had arrived at shore, she was wet and exhausted. And more than that, she was alone. She had nobody to celebrate with. Nobody to cry with. Only an empty apartment with a broken television waited for her as she stumbled back.

“I promise I’ll come back,” he had said.

So she cleaned her apartment, threw out her old TV, and sat alone in the

dark. Sure she might have come home to nobody, but at the very least, she could be there for him.

Hitomi waited for days. Then weeks. Then years.

Still waiting, she stepped on to a bus headed out of Osaka. She sat by the window staring wistfully. She hardly recognized the city she saw.

She had moved out of her old apartment. Without the Historian financing her, it didn’t make sense to stay. She had moved into a much cozier place farther from the water.

As she passed by her apartment, it had already been torn down, replaced by a new office building where salarymen walked in and out not knowing about the girl who cried where their halls were.

She hoped her voice still echoed through like a ghost’s

With nobody to watch the fishmonger’s shop, it was replaced by a family’s sweet shop. The only fish still being sold there was taiyaki. There were no stray cats that lurked around anymore. The family did own a dog. It was a black Shiba Inu. She had pet it when she stocked up on pastries for her trip.

She had only visited the shrine once, just to check if there was anything there. The water had long since stopped flowing, and no sign of any letters or boxes waited for her there.

Just to be safe she set the remains on fire. She felt bad for Hitode, but just on the off chance the Historian had won, she would have liked to delay him just a little bit longer.

On clear nights she would look out the window of her apartment, just to see if there were any lights still shining there. It would remain dark.

Part of her hoped. Part of her feared.

As she left the city that was slowly grew less familiar, she found herself falling fast asleep.

It was raining in her dream. Not above her, but somewhere in the distance. She could see glimmers of lightning and hear the echoes of thunder off out of the corner of her eye.

“Do you miss it?” asked Daniel.

He was sitting beside her on the ground, long face turned away.

“What do you mean?”

He pointed towards the distant storm.

“Do you miss fighting for something?”

Hitomi shook her head.

“Of course not. Every time I fought I lost something new. I lost a friend. I lost my mother. I even lost you.”

She sat down beside Daniel and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Then why is it still so stormy over there?”

Hitomi shrugged.

“I don’t want to go and see.”

“Suit yourself.”

The clouds seemed to come closer. Thunder cracked loudly as it approached.

“Hey why are you doing that?” asked Hitomi.
“I’m not. This is your doing. You’re the one who still wants to fight.”

“I don’t.”

Lightning suddenly crackled.

“Oh my love, you’re terrible in denial.”

She bit his bicep, causing him to yelp. “And you’re terrible because you’re just a dream.”

She could see the sheet of rain approaching like a curtain, threatening to darken her dream into a nightmare. She could still see two figures faintly interlocked behind the falling water. She could feel their eyes looking at her.

“Ah screw it.” She plucked a strand off her head and threw a massive plume of flame in front of her.

All of a sudden, his shoulder disappeared and she fell onto the bus floor. The stranger that had been sitting beside her clutched his arm in fear, a large Hitomi shaped bite mark on his shoulder.

“Sorry about that.” she said, smiling awkwardly.

When she had found her stop, she was at a small mountain town as far from the ocean as she could get.

She looked for the house with her name on it.

Taking an unsteady breath, she knocked.

The one who greeted her was a short thin woman who was just a little shorter than her, with long thick curls of white hair framing her face.

“Oh Hitomi! I didn’t expect to see you all the way out-”

She was interrupted by the tight hug her daughter gave, nearly choking the life out of her.

“Hi, mom.”

Suddenly, Hitomi couldn’t breathe.

“Hello, my daughter.” Her mother was crushing her back.

That night, they had dinner together at the table, just a simple meal of fish and rice. The first family dinner they had in a while.

“What’s life like here?” asked Hitomi.

“It’s great!” started her father. “I get to walk everyday and watch birds-”

“Husband, that’s not interesting.” cut in her mother. “She doesn’t want to hear about the millionth bird you’ve seen today.”

“But you listened to my bird story this morning.’

“Yeah and that’s one too much.” said her mother. “I want to hear our daughter's stories first.”

“Well, I guess I can agree with that.” said her father.

“So umm…” started Hitomi awkwardly.

“How’s Osaka?” asked her father

“It’s different from how you remember, I’m sure,” said Hitomi. “There’s a new pastry shop near my apartment. It’s got really good taiyaki and Siberia. I actually brought some for you–” she began to rummage through her bag.

“I love Siberia cake,” said her dad excitedly. “I love how the red bean just coats-”

Her mother made another disapproving noise.

“Look I appreciate you coming here bringing cake and all that. But we all know you wouldn’t have taken such a long trip just to see your awkward dad and the mother that you hate.”

“Dear-!”

“Well, it’s true. I hate her too. That’s what family does. We hate each other because we spend so much time together, and love each other enough to stay and listen because of it. So now, you don’t have to tell us anything. Your sex life. Your work life. Your personal. Whatever kind of lives you have. But you just have to let us ask–”

She turned and grabbed her daughter by the shoulders.

“What’s wrong?”

Suddenly, it began to rain. Not outside. Not nearby. But right inside the dining room, under Hitomi’s eyes.

“I’m so lonely.” she cried

All the pain and longing she had kept buried underneath spilled out like a gutted fish.

Her mother buried her in her arms and smirked at her husband.

“A mother always knows. And a mother is here”

He just shook his head and joined in on the embrace too.

“Your father is here too.”

Hitomi ended up not saying anything to them. After dinner, no words were shared other than “Pass the plates.” “Please scrub this.” or “Good night.”

She lay upon her old futon that her mom had kept in the guest bedroom. She stared blankly at the dusty ceiling as she tried to fall asleep.

“See, you were still fighting something.” said Daniel, standing just out of vision.

“Do you feel any better?.”

“I feel empty,” admitted Hitomi. “But a good kind of empty. Like the kind I can fill up again with something nice.”

“Do you have any ideas what you’ll start with?”

“Not a clue. But, I’m in no rush. I need to sleep.”

She couldn’t see it, but she could feel Daniel smiling.

“Did you feel loved by me?” asked Hitomi.

“Are you asking for me or for you?” replied Daniel.

“Does it matter?”

She felt a soft kiss on her head.

“No, I suppose it doesn't.”

He sighed. “I had never felt like I mattered more to someone in all the years I was alive. I think that’s just the thing about being dead. You’re either hated or loved or forgotten.”

“I don’t think I could ever forget you.”

“I’m glad to hear that. And I’m sure they think so too.”

“I never said anything about Hitode…or the Historian.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Hitomi groaned. “Do you think they’ll even remember me when I’m gone?”

“People have done less things to be remembered as fondly as you will be.”

“Fine.”

“Now go to bed. You have a new world to fill tomorrow.”

“Alright, but what will you do?” asked Hitomi, curling up in her bed.

“Whatever you need.”

“Lay beside me then. And don’t move till the sun comes up.”

“Yes ma’am”