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Setsuna stood in front of the violin stand in her bedroom. She didn’t really need to look at the sheet music – she had been practicing her recital piece two hours a day for six weeks – but it felt comforting to have the stand in front of her, as though it were a barrier between her and an invisible audience.
There would be no such barrier at the recital.
She tried to remember the advice of her orchestra director, to imagine that she was playing in front of a mirror if she was nervous. But it made her even more anxious when she tried playing in front of the full-length mirror in her room.
What if it sounds terrible? Or worse, mediocre? What if my jaw clenches and I look angry? (A habit that her cousin Moroha was fond of pointing out.)
“The last thing I need is Moroha to jump on my case,” she grumbled out loud.
She closed her eyes and concentrated very hard on the music. She had been taking lessons since she was twelve years old, two years before – her parents wanted her and her twin sister Towa to have outlets that they enjoyed – and had taken to it immediately. Everyone from her private tutor to her school orchestra director said that she was one of, if not the, most talented students they had ever had. Her grandmother loved bragging about her prodigy granddaughter to anyone who would listen, and her parents never failed to display their pride in her in their own special ways.
Her mother Rin was the kind of parent who would jump on her feet and clap and shout at the end of every orchestra performance, with Towa following suit. Her father Sesshomaru had a much quieter personality than her mother and sister – very much like her own – but he knew how to convey his pride in her in his own way. Once when a string had broken while she was practicing in the living room, he had taken out his phone and scrolled through Google Reviews until he found a music shop with a five star rating. There was a thunderstorm that day and the shop was located on the other side of the city, but he told Setsuna to stay and finish her homework while he took her violin and drove half an hour to have it repaired and professionally tuned. Her father was a man of few words, but his love for his family came through in his actions. Nothing was too good for his wife and daughters.
This would be Setsuna’s first solo recital, and she wanted to show her family how much she appreciated them through her performance. But the confidence with which she usually played was not coming through.
“Come on, Setsuna,” she chided herself through gritted teeth. “Get it together.”
She jumped as her concentration was broken by a knock on her bedroom door.
“Setsuna, love, may I come in?”
“Yes, Mama!” She was surprised that she had not heard or smelled her mother coming; along with Towa, she had inherited her inu youkai father’s keen sense of hearing and smell, although her senses were slightly stronger than her twin’s. I must be more stressed than I thought not to have noticed.
Rin entered the room with a small tray that held a steaming mug of white tea and a small bowl of sliced pear.
“You’ve been practicing all afternoon, I thought you might need a snack.” Rin said, setting the tray down on the dresser. “Why don’t you take a little break? You’ve been working so hard.”
Setsuna smiled. “Thank you, Mama. Will you sit with me?”
“Of course!”
They sat together on Setsuna’s bed as she ate her pear slices.
“How are you feeling about the recital?” Rin asked.
Setsuna took a very long swallow of her tea before answering.
“Good. I suppose. I mean, I know my piece backwards and forwards. I could play it in my sleep if I had to.”
Rin scooted closer.
“But?” She asked gently. Setsuna knew that her mother could always tell when something was bothering her daughters or husband.
Setsuna sighed and bowed her head.
“I’m scared, Mama,” she whispered.
Rin wrapped an arm around Setsuna’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Why are you scared, baby?”
Setsuna sat her teacup down and turned towards Rin. She wrapped her arms around her mother’s petite waist and buried her face in her shoulder.
Rin held her close and stroked her hair. “Do you have a little stage fright? It’s alright if you do. It is your first solo recital, after all. I imagine it must feel a little scary.”
Setsuna nodded. “It’s just…everyone is always telling me how good a violinist I am, that I’m a once-in-a-hundred-year prodigy and that I could grow up and make a career out of this if I wanted. But what if I’m not as good as everyone thinks I am? As I think I am? What if I get up there and blank out, or don’t sound the way everyone expects?” She was beginning to shake with anxiety in her mother’s hold. “You and Papa have done so much for me and Towa, putting in the time and money to make sure we can have hobbies and lessons and everything. I don’t want to let you all down.”
Setsuna knew that her mother had never had such luxuries during her upbringing. Rin had lost her parents and two older brothers during a home invasion when she was eight years old, and only survived because she was able to hide inside of a crawl space in the closet where the hot water heater was located in her family’s home. She had then gone to live with her elderly grandmother Kaede, who was disabled and received assistance from the government. Her parents had met in middle school and became best friends before they started dating during their first year of high school. Sesshomaru and his younger half-brother Inuyasha were the heirs to her late grandfather’s investment firm, and he had paid for her mother’s university tuition so that she could fulfill her dream of becoming a child psychologist specializing in trauma recovery. They had married right after Rin graduated and had her and Towa three years later, once Rin had had some time to establish her career.
Setsuna knew how lucky she was to have parents who loved her and had the means to give her and Towa everything that they needed and wanted. The thought of disappointing them hurt too much.
“Setsuna.” Rin said softly. “I need you to listen very closely, okay?”
Setsuna nodded.
Rin held her tighter. “I haven’t told you or Towa this before, but when I was little, after my family was killed and I went to live with Granny Kaede, I lost my ability to speak.”
Setsuna sat up and gaped at her mother. “You couldn’t speak?”
Rin shook her head. “I didn’t say a single word for almost two years, and even then just barely. Granny Kaede was patient with me – she was a very kind, spiritual woman – but the kids at my new school thought I was weird. They called me stupid because I couldn’t answer questions in class, and there were times when I believed they were right. Sometimes...sometimes they would also hit me or push me around.”
Setsuna tightened her grip on Rin’s waist. She felt her fangs start to grow as they always did when she was angry, another trait inherited from her father. “How dare they hurt my mother!”
“Shh,” Rin soothed, kissing her forehead. “It was a long time ago. Things changed after I met your father.” Rin smiled at the memory. “He was easily the strongest and the most handsome youkai at our middle school. Most of the girls and a lot of the boys had crushes on him. But as you know, he’s never been very talkative, and I suppose we clicked because we had a lot in common that way. One day a group of kids who liked to pick on me grabbed my lunch and threw it in the trash. Your father snarled at them and ended up sharing his lunch with me. We started spending time together after that. He never pressured me to speak, we just enjoyed each other’s company until I got comfortable enough to carry on conversation.”
Setsuna stared. “I knew you and Papa met when you were kids, but I never knew it happened that way.”
Rin nodded. “Yes. I’m very, very lucky to have found your papa. To have you and Towa.” Rin smiled and stroked Setsuna’s cheek with the back of her fingers. “I promised myself that when I had my own children one day, I would never make them feel like there was something wrong with them regardless of their abilities. They would always have the freedom to take things at their own pace and to be themselves. Setsuna,” she said, pushing her daughter’s black bangs out of her eyes. “You are an amazing violinist, and it is our privilege to watch you grow as a musician. But it’s because we love you, not what you’re able to do.” Rin cupped Setsuna’s face and met her gaze. “You are our precious daughter. That is more than enough. You are more than enough just as you are.”
Setsuna rarely cried, but she couldn’t help but tear up at her mother’s words. She buried her face into Rin’s shoulder again.
“I...I feel so silly, Mama, but it’s like a giant boulder just rolled off my shoulders. I didn’t even realize I was so tense!”
Rin rubbed her back. “You know, Setsuna, if the violin is causing you too much stress, it’s alright if you take a break from it for a while or even drop it altogether. Papa and I want you and Towa to have outlets that bring you joy, not anxiety.”
Setsuna shook her head. “I love my music. I guess...I just got caught up in wanting to be perfect. Moe-sensei told us to try and pretend we were playing in front of a mirror if we got nervous, but it only made me more anxious.”
Rin tucked a strand of hair behind Setsuna’s ear. “How about this: why don’t you play as if you're only playing for me?”
Setsuna smiled. “Okay.”
She stood, picked her violin back up, and began to play. Rin smiled and hummed along to the melody.
When the song finished, Rin clapped.
“How was that?” she asked.
Setsuna hugged her mother. “I think as long as you’re there, Mama, I’ll be able to do it.”
Rin kissed the top of her daughter’s dark head. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Setsuna.”
On the night of the recital, Setsuna was getting ready in one of the rehearsal rooms down the hall from the auditorium when there was a knock on the door. She answered it to find her parents, Towa, her grandmother, and cousin Moroha with her parents.
“We all came to wish you good luck, Sis!” Towa said happily, lifting up her palm for a high five. Setsuna blushed slightly at being suddenly confronted with her entire family, but she smiled and returned her twin’s gesture.
“You’re going to do a splendid job,” her grandmother said smoothly, amber eyes glittering with pride and slight amusement at Setsuna’s embarrassment. “And I am pleased to see you wearing your new dress and shoes. I knew they would look beautiful on you the moment I saw them!”
“They are beautiful,” Setsuna said, running a hand over the shimmering teal fabric of the sleeveless dress and glancing down at the matching heels her grandmother had sent especially for the occasion. “Thank you again, Mama Kimi.” She knew that her father’s mother did not like to be referred to as ‘grandmother.’
“You’ll do great, Setsu!” Moroha chirped. “Just don’t think about it too much, and try not to do that thing with your jaw that makes you look mad.”
Setsuna rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Thanks for the encouragement, Moroha.”
“Anytime!”
“We’re taking you all out to dinner afterwards. Uncle and I’s treat!” her aunt Kagome said with a grin. “After all your hard work, you deserve to be treated like a champion!”
“Kagome, the two of you are far too generous!” Rin laughed lightly.
“Anything for our favorite nieces,” Inuyasha said with a grin.
“Uncle, we’re your only nieces,” Towa countered.
“Exactly,” Inuyasha said, ruffling her short white hair. Towa let out a groan of annoyance.
“Oh, uh, thank you, Aunty. Uncle,” Setsuna stammered, managing a small smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little flustered.”
“Let’s clear out and give her some space,” Sesshomaru said evenly. He didn’t say anything more, but he gave her a nod of encouragement as everyone turned to go. Setsuna understood the message: Everything will be fine. You can do this.
Rin lingered behind the others for just a moment. She cupped Setsuna’s face and placed a kiss on her forehead.
“We’ll be in the second row. Remember, if you get nervous, you can look right at me and pretend it’s only us.”
Setsuna hugged Rin’s shoulders.
“Thank you, Mama.”
Setsuna nodded at the applause as she stepped on stage. Her eyes quickly scanned the second row for her family until they landed on her mother, sitting in between her father and Towa. Rin smiled and nodded. Setsuna smiled back, closed her eyes and began to play. She imagined she was sitting alone in her room with her mother, Rin humming along to the melody in her beautiful singing voice that used to lull her and Towa asleep with lullabies when they were small, sometimes even now if they were stressed or scared or in need of comfort.
Whatever tension she felt in her body faded away. She felt her jaw relax and allowed herself to be swept away in the music; there was no need to concentrate too hard. Every so often she would open her eyes and glance at Rin, who smiled brightly and never broke eye contact. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her grandmother recording the performance with her phone.
When she finished her piece, she bowed at the applause, which was louder than the first round largely because of her family. Rin and Towa each leapt to their feet and bounced and cheered wildly, as did her aunt, uncle and cousin. Her grandmother continued taking pictures. Her father stood and clapped quietly, but he looked at her with one of his smiles that he reserved only for his family, his amber eyes glowing with pride.
“Whoo, go Setsu!” she heard Moroha whoop, circling her arm in the air for emphasis.
She greeted her family outside the auditorium twenty minutes later. Towa and Moroha immediately tackled her in a tight hug so that she had to lift her violin case over her head to keep it from being bumped around.
“That was amazing, Sis!” Towa squealed right in her ear. It hurt, but Setsuna smiled. Her twin’s support and excitement meant everything to her.
“Yeah, and you didn’t do that weird jaw thing once!” Moroha said happily.
Setsuna huffed. “I’m glad that was the main thing you noticed.”
“Aww, come on,” Moroha said playfully, leaning back with a grin. “I’m just giving you a hard time!”
“What else is new?” Setsuna muttered.
“You were fantastic,” Kagome said, pulling Moroha away so she could get in on the hugging. “Uncle and I are so proud of you!”
“We sure are,” Inuyasha said, giving Setsuna’s ponytail a gentle, playful tug. “Now, where do you feel like getting dinner?”
“Um, ramen is fine,” Setsuna smiled. “Thank you again, Uncle.”
“Darling Setsuna, you did an absolutely fabulous job,” her grandmother said proudly, moving forward to cup her face with her lacquered hands and place a kiss on the top of her head. “Not that I’m surprised. You’ve worked so hard, and you are your father’s daughter, always putting your whole self into everything you do. I can’t wait to show these videos off when you’re a world-renowned concert violinist one day!”
“Mother.” Sesshomaru said flatly.
Setsuna blushed and felt a rush of tension come to her shoulders again, though she knew her grandmother meant it kindly. “T-thank you, Mama Kimi.”
“Whatever Setsuna decides to do with her future, we will all be there to support her and make sure she knows how proud we are, won’t we Mother?” Rin said gently, taking Setsuna’s free hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
“Of course,” Kimi said. “I am blessed with two exceptional granddaughters, thanks to you Rin.” She added, giving Rin’s cheek a gentle pat. "The only woman in the world capable of convincing my son to give me grandchildren."
Rin laughed as she caught Sesshomaru rolling his amber eyes behind his mother.
“It does take two, Mother!” Rin said playfully.
Kimi gave a cluck and turned to Towa, wanting to know when her next kendo tournament was scheduled so she could mark it in her social calendar.
Setsuna turned to Rin and embraced her.
“You were amazing, my sweet girl,” Rin said.
“It’s thanks to you, Mama.”
Rin shook her head. “No, Setsuna. I may have offered my support, but you’re the one who got on stage and gave it your all. Be as proud of yourself as we are of you.”
Setsuna nodded.
“By the way,” Rin said, pulling away. “Papa has something for you.”
Setsuna looked at her father. He held a bouquet of purple hydrangeas – her favorite flower. She hadn’t noticed them before, but imagined he must have hidden them under his chair in the auditorium.
“Well done, Setsuna,” he said quietly.
She took the flowers and gave him a bright smile. “Thank you, Papa.”
She linked her arm with Rin’s and turned with her parents to follow the rest of their family outside. Setsuna felt incredibly thankful to have the family she did; they could be a handful at times with all of their conflicting personalities, but their love and devotion to one another were never in question. Whatever challenges she may face and whatever the future might bring, she knew that they would always be there to catch her should she stumble.
Especially you, Mama, she thought, leaning into her mother’s side.