Kaitou Magician Origins Chapter Three: Tanaka Keisuke
It was one bleak, muggy day, a day that Mikai would never live to forget. He was abruptly called out to the principal¡¯s office in the middle of history class. A formidable but kindly man, the Eitoukou elementary school principal offered him a seat in the office and waited gravely. Soon, Miho joined him in the office, clearly confused.
¡°What is it, ¡®nii-chan?¡± she whispered, shifting her feet nervously. ¡°Are we in trouble?¡±
The principal shook his head, the wrinkles in his wizened face creasing even more as he said, ¡°I do not know how to bring this news on you two. Someone¡¯s coming to pick you up soon. Your mother will explain things better.¡±
A cold chill ran over Mikai¡¯s body. ¡°Something¡¯s happened to father?¡±
Without words, the principal placed a hand on Mikai¡¯s shoulder and replied, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±
¡°What happened to otou-san? Wasn¡¯t he on a business trip?¡± Miho asked, looking back and forth from the principal and her brother. ¡°Tell me! What happened to otou-san?¡±
At that moment, there was a sharp knock on the door. The Tanaka chauffeur bowed his head. ¡°I¡¯ve come to escort Mikai-sama and Miho-sama home. The mistress is waiting.¡±
¡°Hush now, I¡¯ll carry your bag,¡± Mikai said, prodding Miho along, struggling to keep his voice from trembling. If he panicked, Miho would panic also. ¡°Mother will tell us what¡¯s going on.¡±
Though it was only a ten minute drive from their school to home, it was the longest car ride ever for Miho and Mikai—they remained completely silent through the entire ride, and Miho did not let go of Mikai¡¯s hands once, even though she refused to meet his eyes.
They rushed into the living room, where their mother awaited them, sheet-white and with dark circles under her eyes, but shoulders composed.
¡°Mother! What happened to father?¡± Mikai demanded.
¡°I just received a call from
There are moments when some unexpected news is so traumatizing, so painful that it almost seems surreal, like it is only a story, a bad dream to wake up from.
As his mother burst out crying, crumpling over on the floor, Mikai stared at the family portrait hanging on the living room walls, blankly. His father, mother, little sister and him, smiling, staring back at him as if nothing had changed. Except that his mother was sobbing out loud for the first time in his recollection. Except that Miho was on her knees, hands clutching his pants, uncannily silent. And now, he was the man of the family. His father, his father who hated his job, who loved his family, who told him that it is a natural desire for a man to wish to be free, the father who was the pillar of his family would return no more. Miho just watched their mother blankly, looking more dumbfounded than ever, desperately praying their father would pop up from behind the door and tell them it was all just a really bad joke. Biting his lips to keep from crying himself, Mikai knelt down and drew Miho close to him and embraced her tightly. She began to wail into his chest, furiously, almost as if she did not know why she was crying.
The next couple of weeks were always a blur
for Mikai. His father was supposedly buried in
He and his sister returned to school in a week and the principal deemed Mikai a frightening person for he did not loose the same smile he always wore, the same composure, the same poise. When his classmates asked about his absence, Mikai merely shook his head and did not reply, though most of the school already knew about the family tragedy.
To his relief, Miho was doing better than he had expected—or maybe she still had the vague notion that their father was away on a business trip and would return any day now as a surprise. It was only every night that Mikai sat by her bedside, smoothing her forehead to help her fall asleep—she couldn¡¯t fall asleep unless he was beside her.
What worried him the most was their mother. Their mother, who was always cheerful, determined and joking was reduced to tears and silence—she stayed at home all day, lying in bed, refusing to eat meals.
¡°Okaa-san, you have to eat,¡± Mikai pleaded, nudging the tray with a bowl of porridge.
Miara shook her head weakly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Mikai. I¡¯m not very hungry.¡±
¡°Okaa-san, here,¡± Mikai urged again, lifting the spoon laden with porridge up. ¡°Just one bite, ¡®kaa-san?¡±
Managing a faint smile, Miara relented and attempted to eat the porridge.
¡°I paid the electricity and the telephone bills on my way back from school today,¡± Mikai said. ¡°And your editor called earlier on—he said that you can take as long as you need to recover.¡±
¡°Mikai, what will I ever do without you?¡± Miara asked, gazing at her son with misty eyes. ¡°Such a good boy. I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m not being a better mother to you and Miho.¡±
Shaking his head, Mikai replied, ¡°No Mother, this is the least I can do. Father would have expected it of me. Okaa-san just has to rest a little and recover.¡±
¡°¡¯Nii-chan? Is ¡®kaa-chan okay?¡± Miho asked from the door way.
¡°Hush, Miho-hime,¡± Mikai shushed. ¡°Mother is sleeping. Let¡¯s go out of her room—I¡¯ll tell you a story.¡±
¡°Okay,¡± a much subdued Miho replied, tugging at one end of her braid which had become unraveled.
******
¡°I haven¡¯t seen you around lately,¡± Karin commented when the considerably pallid prince came to their usual meeting place.
Mikai lay back down on the grass under the customary spot, letting out a long sigh. ¡°I¡¯ve been busy lately.¡±
¡°I know,¡± Karin replied, fiddling with a dry grass. ¡°I heard about it¡¦¡±
Mikai remained silent.
¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Karin replied, softly.
There still was no reply from Mikai.
¡°So¡¦ how are things now?¡± Karin asked.
¡°How are things?¡± Mikai repeated vaguely. ¡°How are things¡¦ I wonder.¡±
¡°You don¡¯t have to talk about it if you don¡¯t want to.¡± Karin sighed. Usually Mikai did all the talking; he was always the instigator of conversations, he was always the one with a bright, encouraging smile, cheering her up. She had watched Mikai over the past several days, and if she hadn¡¯t been observant, she might have noticed no change. Yet, she could see now what kind of strain Mikai had been under. The automatic smile on his lips had dropped, and she could see his gray-blue eyes were not twinkling merrily as usual, but they were filled with something unusual, a look she had never seen in his eyes. And she could almost swear it looked like anger and hate. A sort of bitterness that should not be present in someone as kind and gentle as him.
Mikai sat up again and turned to face Karin. ¡°How are things? Let¡¯s see, my mother is always lying in bed, a nervous wreck, my little sister cries her self to sleep every night, pesky relatives are running in and out of the house, offering to lend a hand but more interested in if they can swindle some money from us. Oh, and supposedly, my father is in great debt to C.E.O. Kinomoto or something, and we have no means of paying such a great sum of money, but I can¡¯t really talk to my mother about it because she has enough worries already.¡± He let out a bitter laugh. ¡°What else? I¡¯m sick of smiling as if nothing is wrong, and I¡¯m sick of everyone whispering behind my back, pitying me.¡±
Startled at the outburst from the usually sunny-natured boy, Karin stared at her lap. ¡°You sound more angry than sad.¡±
¡°That might be right,¡± Mikai said. ¡°I¡¯m more angry at my father dying so suddenly, leaving things like this, than sad that he is no longer here. And I¡¯m angry at myself that this is the only thing I can do—complain, store anger and resentment for the world, angry that I can¡¯t be any stronger, can¡¯t take any action.¡±
¡°It¡¯s okay to be angry at the world,¡± Karin murmured, staring at the sky. ¡°Anger keeps us strong, on our feet. Anger keeps us moving. Anger keeps us from being lost in despair and hopelessness. Be angry, Mikai. Even if you can¡¯t show this face to your mother or your little sister, you can show it to me. I understand.¡± Tentatively, she placed a reassuring hand on Mikai¡¯s shoulder.
She wondered why the painful expression on his face hurt her more than anything else she had seen before. He buried his head in her chest as she patted his back soothingly. Like a man, he made no sound, but like a boy, his shoulders trembled as he sobbed hard. If he looked up at that moment, he would have seen tears streaming down her face too. Though she had been so convinced that what happened to this boy had no consequence to her, she was disturbed to find how much she cared for him, how she wished the best for him, for he was one of those rare, truly good people that you came across in life. She wished with all her heart that the shadow she could see cross his future was a mistake in her Sight.
¡°Why are you crying?¡± Mikai asked, peering at Karin¡¯s pretty violet eyes.
¡°I¡¯m not crying,¡± Karin retorted, rubbing her eyes with her sleeves. She was surprised to see that Mikai was smiling as brightly as ever as he teased her. The boy was a natural poker-face and it sent a chill down her spine knowing that he could put on this expression when his insides must be in turmoil.
¡°You look very pretty even when you¡¯re crying, Kara-senpai!¡± Mikai stated, using his pet name for her when they were in private. It was an abbreviation of her surname ¡°Kamura.¡±
Stroking Mikai¡¯s soft hair, Karin said, ¡°I¡¯m not letting you cry on my shoulder anymore.¡±
¡°Thank you, Kara-senpai,¡± Mikai said, standing up, somber again. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I would do without you. You don¡¯t have any expectations from me. I can just be myself with you.¡±
¡°You know, you have a lot more bitterness stored behind that angelic face of yours than you let out,¡± Karin commented.
Mikai smiled crookedly and his eyes gleamed like periwinkle orbs, more gray than blue. ¡°Maybe I am a devil inside. Who knows?¡±
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