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He couldn't bring himself to go in. He just couldn't. As soon as they made it back, he stole a blanket — to hide from the entire world — and fled the house. Because they were there. Because he was there.
And he was hiding like a coward.
It got cold quickly. That's the humidity in the air, he knew Ryuu would say. It was a good thought to bring the blanket. Yeah, that's why he brought it. Not to hide. He had nothing to hide from! He had done nothing wrong!
“Hey.”
Hana jumped and screamed. He hadn't felt Alumi approach.
“You're noisy and suspicious,” she complained. “No wonder you're out here on your own.”
Hana blushed out of embarrassment and quickly looked away.
“What do you even know,” he bit back, but it was weak and tired. So very tired.
Alumi rolled her eyes, but she sat beside him anyway.
“It's cold,” Hana pointed out.
“Yeah. But you're alone,” Alumi answered.
Hana blushed again. With an exasperated sigh, he unwrapped the blanket and surrounded Alumi with it too.
“Don't be stubborn,” he warned her.
“Fine,” she countered. But she grabbed onto the corner of the blanket and brought it closer to herself.
Hana brought his arm back to his own body, Alumi's appearance a small reprieve from his struggle. But the sight of the house sank his stomach like lead. He had to look away.
“Are you planning on staying here all night?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what's the idea?”
“There's…!” Hana wanted to bite back, but he remembered everything that Alumi had been through just to help him in the last few days, and the attempt died in his throat. His shoulders sank. “There's no idea. I just… don't know.”
Alumi looked at the house. "You don't have much of a choice. You need to sleep, especially after everything.”
Hana agreed. He was exhausted. But he wasn't ready to say it, admit it, or give into it.
“Not… yet.”
“What are you waiting for?” Alumi insisted.
Hana dropped his head between his lifted knees to scratch it. “I don't… want him here.”
Then, Alumi went very, very still.
Hana didn't notice at first, but when he did, he felt like an asshole.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean—”
“Hana,” Alumi interrupted, “At least you have him here. After all this time… They're here. I… can wish and wish, but mine won't ever be here.”
“I know, I know,” he winced, “But, you don't understand—”
“Don't I? Or is it you who doesn't get it?”
Hana gritted his teeth and looked away. Alumi did the same, looking the other way.
After a moment, pushing past his anger, Hana found his words again.
“Sorry, Alumi. I didn't mean that. I just… I'm trying. I'm trying to understand. You. Them. Him. And I… I'm not having much luck.”
Alumi looked up at the sky.
“Trying to understand is all you can do on your own. We can't reach the stars just by thinking about it. You need to listen.”
Alumi looked at Hana. Her eyes did not carry tears or grief. They never did; not ever since she came back into his life. But he could see it anyway.
“So, listen.”
Hana threw his head back and groaned.
“But I don't wanna…”
Alumi shook her head and got up, pushing the blanket off of both of them.
“Stop throwing a tantrum, already. Face your fears. Good night.”
And, with that, she walked off.
When he lost sight of her, Hana groaned again, now to the stars. She was right. Yet he didn't want to accept it. His hatred for his father ran deep, maybe even deeper than the oni inside of him.
So he waited. For what? Not even he knew anymore.
Meanwhile, at the house, Yoh sat down with an oomph, his age finally starting to show, as his butt touched the engawa and his back creaked just as much as the wood.
“Yoh-dono…”
The samurai spirit made himself known.
“I know, I should've stretched after the fight,” Yoh chuckled.
But Amidamaru was not smiling, not even a little bit.
“You’re upset,” Yoh concluded.
Amidamaru sighed, but it was a huff in disguise.
“Talk to me. I missed you, too.”
“That is just it, Yoh-dono,” the ghost eventually spoke. “You have been gone. For years.”
Yoh smiled towards nothing.
“You have not seen the suffering of Hana-dono. The oni, they are not here only due to the curse.”
As Yoh kept his silence, Amidamaru was spurred forward. Yoh knew he would only talk if he stayed quiet.
“The boy has been so lonely. Without a place to belong. Not in a physical sense, as he was surrounded by your extended family and in the inn. Do you understand? He needed you. And you left.”
Amidamaru’s fists tightened.
“Not only that, but you left everything that you were behind with him. Those people, even though they care for Hana-dono, all they could talk about was you. How great you used to be, how you saved them, how his music reminded them of you, how I used to be your spirit, how everything he has, everything he is, reminded them of you. He wasn’t allowed to be his own person, living under your shadow.”
Yoh’s smile faded. Amidamaru grimaced.
“Even I… submitted him to that treatment. For I missed you. And I chose to see you in him instead of seeing… him.”
Every instance where he had compared the two flashed in front of his eyes, adding to his self-righteous anger.
“After the events in the Patch Village, instead of changing your ways, you abandoned him during his most formative years. And then, you come back with me, making another deal with the devil for it, and fight him? With all due respect, Yoh-dono, where is your mind?”
Yoh sighed very quietly.
“Are you going to say something or should I continue?” Amidamaru asked, staring directly at his old master.
Yoh pushed his body backward, coming to rest his hands on the engawa. He looked at the starry sky, nostalgia pushing through despite Amidamaru’s sentiment.
“That’s kind of why I’m here,” he answered. When that wasn’t enough to sway the samurai, Yoh continued. “I wanna apologize.”
“I felt your pain during the fight, I will acknowledge that. But—”
“I know,” Yoh interrupted. “It’s not enough just to say we’re sorry. But that’s how I truly feel. Even though I had no choice… I still went away. But… these words are not for you.”
Yoh looked down at the entrance. Hana was there.
“They’re for him,” Yoh smiled a tiny bit.
But Yoh wasn’t met with the same attitude. Which was fine — expected, even.
Amidamaru lowered his head and disappeared. He wasn’t done speaking, but it wasn’t his place to be angry when Hana himself was there to be so.
Hana’s body was taut with tension as he took a deep breath and walked towards his father.
“Hello. Been waiting for you,” Yoh said.
Hana, at first, didn’t say anything. He looked aside, away, down, grit his teeth, tightened his fists. But Yoh waited. It was the least he could do; it came easy to him.
“Do you wanna have dinner before or after?”
The only thing that moved from Hana was his stomach, widening as his breathing grew quicker.
“Ah. Later, it is.”
Yoh gave Hana a couple of minutes. After that, he decided to give him a little coaxing.
“Do you want me to start, or—”
“Fuck you,” Hana said.
“...Yeah,” Yoh replied, his head moving downwards. He didn’t mean to sound defeated, yet he did. Because he was. Gods, he was.
“Fuck you,” Hana repeated, “And mom. And Tamao-Mom. And Uncle Hao. And all of them. Fuck all of you.”
Yoh nodded solemnly.
“Is that it? Is that all you’re gonna do? Or say? You’re not gonna say anything?” Hana fought him.
“Do you want me to?”
“I don’t know!” Hana shouted, squeezing his head for a short moment.
Yoh had to suppress an emotional response. It wasn’t his place. He had forfeited it long ago. Instead, he did what he had been doing. He waited some more.
“No,” Hana said, snapping his head to the side. “You know what? I don’t. I don’t wanna hear it. None of it. Just leave me alone.”
“Alright.”
“Alright?!” Hana asked back incredulously, finally looking at Yoh. “Are you seriously not gonna do anything?! Again?! After all this time, you’ll still act like you’re gone?!”
Yet Yoh’s face did not change.
“I don’t wanna upset you—”
“Well, too fucking late! Years too late!”
Hana panted. Yoh’s shoulders sank, but barely.
“Say something!!” Hana demanded.
“I’m sorry.”
Hana quickly lifted his leg and kicked Yoh in the stomach, leaving him bereft of air and gasping.
“I’m sorry,” Yoh said again as soon as he recovered enough air to speak.
Hana’s fist connected with Yoh’s face. Yoh lifted himself from the impact, not even reaching for his cheek.
“I’m sorry,” Yoh said once more.
“Shut up!!” Hana said, shutting his eyes, and something wet hit his own face. He grunted in frustration and wiped at his skin ferociously, over and over. But the tears wouldn’t stop. “Stop it!” He shouted at himself, “What’s wrong with me?! Why is this happening?! Why are you back?!”
“Because I shouldn’t have left.”
Hana’s eyes snapped back open.
Yoh could have done many things. Instead, he only sat up again.
“I never wanted to leave you,” he admitted, looking straight into what could have been a copy of his eyes. “But I was afraid. I was weak. I couldn’t protect you once, and that left you with a curse I couldn’t do anything about. I almost lost you. And I… lost you still.”
Hana’s breathing did not calm down.
“Most of your life, I’ve been absent for. Your milestones. Your birthdays. Your lowest days. Your proudest moments. And I…” Yoh had to steel himself with a deep breath. “I wish I could’ve been there… That’s all I ever wanted.”
He looked away.
“But life doesn’t always work out.”
Yoh moved. He laced his hands and rested his arms on his legs, leaning forward, with all the weight of the world and their decision on his shoulders.
“It’s funny. I never wanted to live with regrets, and yet… here you are, all grown up, and I have no memories of it.”
But only after silence set in again did Yoh realize that Hana’s sniffs had all but stopped.
“And?”
Yoh blinked, his emotional dam leaking some surprise. A dry-yet-red-faced Hana crossed his arms.
“Do you want me to feel bad for you? Or pity you? ‘Cause I won’t. You don’t deserve it. I’m the one who suffered, not you! You chose to leave me!”
Hana was shocked that all of this was actually coming out. But, after the fight, he felt raw, exposed; like a nerve battling against the winter-cold air.
Yoh closed his eyes in acceptance.
“If the choice was to let you die for real or leave you in the safest place I knew, then, yes, I made a choice.”
“Fuck your choice,” Hana immediately replied. “I was alone. I was safe, but I was bored. I never amounted to anything, because I saw no reason to try. Nobody around me tried to see me. Me, not you.”
Yoh opened his eyes as Hana swung his arms around.
“And don’t get me started on how wonderful and kind you were, because I’ve had it up to here from hearing stories about you. That’s all I had! Stories! From a past I was never fully told, like I was too weak to understand it! Comparing me, over and over, to you and Mom, two heroes that were not here with me! How could you be so wonderful and kind if you’d left me?! I’m your son! Don’t I matter?!”
“You matter the most.”
“Then, why did you abandon me?!”
“I already said—”
“No, that’s not it! Let me tell you why! Because I don’t matter! You never cared, other people mattered most, Uncle Hao mattered more than me! You had to go and save the fucking world, well, guess what! You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too! You did lose me! Now, get outta my sight!”
Hana swung his hand one last time to mark the end of the conversation and walked past his father.
But this one time… Yoh couldn’t let him. Not while he thought of him so low. Not when it was his own goddamn fault.
So he grabbed him. Hana tried to shake him off, but Yoh’s grip was stronger. Underneath his baggy clothes was a worn and tattered body, built around wars. There was no way a fourteen-year-old could one-up his strength.
“Let me go!” Hana snapped at him.
“Not before you understand one thing.”
“I don’t wanna hear anything else from you!”
“I love you.”
Hana’s eyes widened. His pulling stopped.
Because Yoh’s eyes were wet.
“I love you more than anything.”
Hana felt Yoh’s grip shake.
“And I had to sacrifice my time with you to give you time to live.”
Hana’s eyes shook. They teared up again as well and he hated it. He couldn’t stand to look at his father like that — like he truly was, a broken man who missed his chance due to circumstances out of his control.
If only Hana knew how badly Yoh had wanted a family…
Yoh’s grip slowly grew softer, until he was just holding his son’s wrist. Hana had ran out of words.
“You’ll be fifteen in two days. Please… let me be by your side then.”
“I…”
Hana didn’t know. This didn’t fix anything. These long years had passed, there was no winding back time. An apology and a confession were hardly enough to mend his sore heart.
But as he was about to reject Yoh’s wish, Alumi’s voice came back to him.
It was all about choice.
Alumi’s parents had not decided to leave her.
But… apparently, Hana’s hadn’t, either.
Hana sighed in the same way that Yoh had at the beginning of it all — defeated.
“For Alumi.”
“Thank you.”
“Whatever.”
Father and son walked into the house together. And that was all Yoh could ask for.