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The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
It was a phrase she’d heard when she was quite young about her older cousin. She hadn’t known her uncle well, he’d disappeared at sea when she was really young, but people were always comparing Ging to his dad.
Oh, he was so adventurous. Oh, he was so smart. Oh, he was so reckless.
But as the years went by, Ging’s presence on the island seemed to haunt it. He had been gone for so many years, until showing up briefly with his son.
It was strange. She had been so mad at Ging, but she couldn’t hold any of that against Gon. He was an innocent little kid, he couldn’t be held accountable for anything she thought of his father.
Except, there were times the similarities between them shocked her. Despite his absence in Gon’s life, it was as if Mito was reading a story she knew by heart.
Mito pulled up the little stool so Gon was tall enough to see the top of the counter. He’d seen Mito bake cookies before, but now that he was four, he was old enough to be a little helper.
“It says one cup of sugar, can you show me which one the sugar is?” asked Mito. Gon scrunched his little eyebrows together as he sounded out the characters on the labels very slowly but surely.
“Su…gar! This one, Mito!” said Gon, pointing with both of his hands just in case Mito didn’t realize which bag it was. She laughed to herself a little at his enthusiasm.
“That’s right, Gon,” she said, dipping the measuring cup into the bag. “And what do we mix next?”
Gon looked at the recipe list and put his fingers over the steps they’d already completed. It took him a few moments, but he eventually got it.
“Egg. Mito, I want to crack the egg,” whined Gon. Was he old enough for this? Would he have enough dexterity? Well, he had to learn sometime. Mito picked up a brown egg in her hand and held it close to her palm.
“Okay, Gon, you hold the egg so it won’t fall out, but not too tight otherwise it will break. And then you crack it-“ Mito hit the egg on the side of her mixing bowl very lightly. “- on the side of the bowl.”
“Okay,” said Gon, taking the egg out of her hand and immediately squeezing it so hard that the shell broke, yellow yolk and the whites of the egg dripping down his arm and onto the counter. “Oh no! Mito I broke it-“ Gon’s eyes were filled with tears and suddenly Mito felt her own eyes tear up a little.
“Whoa, what kind of eggs are these?” asked Mito. Ging looked at them closely. They were bigger than any chicken eggs sold at the market, not to mention they were in some sort of hole with a nest cushioning them from the dirt below.
“I think they’re some sort of soft shell turtle eggs,” he said.
“Do people eat them?”
“I mean, sure, but I don’t know how to cook them. Maybe Abe does. I should let her know, so we can make turtle egg soup,” joked Ging. Mito’s eyes widened.
“You wouldn’t!” she exclaimed. Ging raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? But I thought you wanted to eat them,” said Ging, picking up one of the eggs in his hand.
“Put it back! I was just joking!” exclaimed Mito, trying to reach for the egg with her six year old hands. “Ging!!!” He held the egg high above her head as Mito tried to jump for it. “Giiiiing!!!”
“I’m going to cook this one for s-“
The two of them went silent as Mito looked at the dripping juices from the egg Ging had accidentally cracked in the commotion.
“Oh shit-“
And then came the waterworks from Mito.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” said Mito, taking the egg shells out of Gon’s hands and putting them in the trash. “Wash your hands.”
Gon pushed his stool over to the sink and Mito watched to make sure he scrubbed good.
“Am I in trouble?” asked Gon. Mito bit her lip.
“No, accidents happen,” she said maybe with just a bit more bitterness than she wanted to.
“Do you like fishing?” asked Gon. Mito looked out over the lake, at the reeds near the shoreline, the trees behind it, the birds flying overhead.
“Yeah, I do. It’s nice being out there in nature,” said Mito. “I hate taking the fish off the hook, though.” Gon nodded.
“If you catch anything, I’ll take it off for you,” Gon proudly declared. Mito smiled. He was only seven, but he was so sweet.
“Thanks, Gon, I really appreciate it.”
But before she could continue, she noticed something odd. Gon had wrapped part of the fishing line off his makeshift stick-rod around his finger, and jostled it around a bit.
“What’s that for,” Mito asked in shock.
“Oh, I think it makes the bait look more alive,” Gon said nonchalantly. “Fish would rather eat something alive than garbage, right?”
“Why don’t the fish like my bait!” Mito whined, looking over at the small fish Ging pulled out of the lake. It was flat and silver, with a black spot near the base of the tail. He quickly unhooked its lip and tossed it back inside the water.
“You’re using squid meat, not live worms, so the fish have a hard time finding it. Try wiggling the line a bit so the fish think it’s alive,” said Ging, holding the stick with the line tied to the end of it and giving it a little jostle. Mito observed carefully before playing with her line, giving it a little tug up and down.
Suddenly, there was a quick tug on the line. Mito almost dropped the stick into the lake, but she held onto it as tight as she could.
“Ging, Ging, there’s something on my line!” Mito yelled. Ging smirked.
“Well don’t just sit there, reel it in!” he exclaimed. Mito wrapped the line around her stick as quick as she could, Ging wouldn’t let her use one of the real fishing poles cuz he said she wasn’t strong enough to reel in yet. But that was fine, she was only five. And besides, he’d helped her make her stick-rod so it was extra special.
“I got it!” exclaimed Mito, holding up a sizeable catfish. It was about the length of her arm.
“See? Neat trick, right?”
He’d probably seen her do it sometime. Or maybe heard it from the fisherman down by the docks when he was doing a grocery run on the waterfront marketplace.
But it was unmistakable, the same technique Ging had shown her years ago.
Maybe they both had that same intuition. The kind Abe always said she lacked.
“Mito, I want to take the hunter exam.”
He said it so abruptly at dinner one night, Mito almost spit out her drink. The hunter exam. Where had he… oh.
“Did Kite put you up to this?” asked Mito, a raised eyebrow. Gon furiously shook his head.
“No, no, I want to do this,” sais Gon, looking down at his vegetables on his plate. Mito exchanged a worried glance with Abe.
“Why?” Mito pressed. Gon opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. He thought for a second, then tried again.
“I want to see why my dad was a hunter. Just to check what it’s all about,” said Gon.
And there it was, her little boy, the same boy who Ging had brought home ten years ago was now wanting to leave her, just like his father did.
“Mito, are you crying?” asked Gon.
Damn it. Mito wiped her eyes with a napkin. It was nothing he should worry about. The townsfolk were right, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, no matter how much time he spent with her he just wanted to leave. Everyone always left her.
“No,” Mito lied.
“I promise I’ll write to you!” exclaimed Gon. “A-and I’ll come home, for breaks and stuff. Because how else are you going to hear all the cool stories from my adventures.”
Mito was speechless. So, he didn’t want to leave for good? He just… wanted to experience the world?
Oh, it was like a breath of fresh air.
“The exam is very dangerous, you know,” Mito said sternly.
“I’ll prove that I’m good enough,” Gon said enthusiastically. Abe waved her hand to get into the conversation.
“A good test of strength is catching the Monster of the Swamp, it's very elusive to find, and very hard to apprehend. If you can both track it and catch it, I think you’d be ready,” suggested Abe. Gon thought about that for a moment.
“Okay. But you’ll see. I’ll catch the swamp monster, and then we can have it for dinner! Invite some of the neighbors too since I’ve heard it’s big.”
Mito ruffled Gon’s hair. He might be Ging’s son, but there were tons of differences between the two of them. And right now, he totally felt like Gon. He was thoughtful, considerate, and reliable. And while Ging might display some of those traits on occasion, none of them would have been her first choice.
The apple had fallen off the tree, but it rolled down its own hill. An apple was still an apple, but he could make his own choices.