Father didn’t speak right away. He reached and pulled out the photo album from the shelf. I remembered the book, the same one we looked through together. Father didn’t open it, however. He stared at the cover in silence. We sat still, staring at him.
“People are fighting,” he finally said. Father looked at me directly. “I’m sure you had some idea of this, Ai. But it’s worse than you think.”
“…..”
I didn’t look at Father directly. Hotaru peeked at me for a moment, then gazed at the floor with me.
“This kind of fighting isn’t a game.” He paused. “When… a soldier goes out to fight… there’s a chance they don’t come back home.”
Little Sis perked up. “Why not?”
Father stopped. Without raising my head, I did the dirty work for him. “They die.”
Hotaru glanced at me.
“Just like Mother did. They’re gone.”
She stiffened. Her eyes widened and her stare went blank.
“The world outside our garden is more cruel than I’d like you two to think.” Father rubbed the cover of his album under a thumb. He didn’t seem comfortable diving this deep straight away. “People don’t always get along with each other.”
That was too simple of an answer. I uncrossed my legs and cradled them, still staring at the floor. “But, why are they fighting to death?” Pausing, I dared to venture further. “Even we don’t always get along… But…”
I couldn’t bring myself to finish. Father waited patiently for a while. He set the album down.
“Think of it this way…” He slouched down tucking his elbows on his knees. “If I were killed by someone, what would you think about the person who killed me?”
I held my breath. A chill returned to my head, stinging it, surging down my spine. I went numb, just thinking about it.
“It’s a little more complicated than that, but it is one way fights break out to become major wars.”
Next to me, I heard a sniffle. Hotaru starts to cry, bringing her palms up to rub her eyes. “Get them to stop… Don’t let them take you…!”
We both looked over, watching her snivel. “No more fighting…!”
Father sighed. “If only it was as easy as asking everyone to stop.” He reached back down and opened the album. “Even after all these years I’ve spent, thinking and writing, trying to change public sentiment, I still don’t know the answer. Forgiveness is not an easy virtue.”
He flipped the album two-thirds of the way open and stared at it. Deep in thought, seemingly lost. Fixating on the photos, I recognized the faces behind the plastic wrap. Glancing up, I saw the same look on his face.
“Your brothers… Where did they actually go?”
Father didn’t speak. Only Hotaru carried on, sniffling. A fresh wave of the late summer breeze flushed the room from the open door to the deck. Outside, cicadas picked up their chorus, almost drowning out Father’s voice once he finally spoke. “War.”
Father straightened, opening his arms out to us. “Ai, Hotaru.”
Staring at him, exposed and open like this, I started to tear up as well. I climbed out of my cradle, over the album, and into his arms. Hotaru followed soon after. He hugged us both very tightly.
“You two are all I have to live for. I would never want to leave you two. But, I fear I will have to leave your side for a moment in order to protect that love.”
Hotaru began to sob. “No, don’t do it! Don’t give in to them!”
Father did nothing but kept us in his arms, as if it were the last time he could do so. I didn’t say anything. Somehow, I knew he had already made up his mind. I tried to act brave.
“Go end it, then.” Reduced to a murmur, I closed my eyes. “Get them to stop.”
I felt Father’s shoulders ease down. His arm brushed up my back to pat my head. “I’ll do my best.”
End.