Sitting by the creek was about as close as we could get to having air-conditioning. The leaves and branches of the trees above us shaded us from the direct rays of the sun and the air near the water, though plenty humid, was several degrees cooler than anywhere else- at least until the sun went down. The sound of the water rippling by was soothing too, and we sat close enough to stick our feet and occasionally dip our hands in- Sage and I. Or so I assumed from the splashing to my right, but since I was looking intently down and to the left, downstream, I wasn't totally sure. 

I sat on the gently sloping bank, the thin grass and last-fall's leaves under my legs, thinking about the previous two weeks and the lonely winter and the unnerving spring; about my parents and New York and Inochi and being abandoned and being a burden. And the more I thought, the worse I felt. 

I'd never felt like that before. I'd had the occasional low moods or sullen funks or bitter glooms, but everyone does and I was used to those, knew how to shake 'em off. This was nothing like those. It was like something had been torn out of me, leaving a huge empty hole behind, and with it had gone all my energy. I couldn't cry or get mad and swear or pull up a false indifference, I was just too tired. I thought, briefly, how nice it would be to just stretch out and fall asleep and not wake up for a hundred years... but of course if I did that, I wouldn't wake up at all because I wouldn't make it through the summer, much less the winter. 

Always have been logical to a fault, but in this case it was more like realizing I couldn't evade the facts. I was in this mess, and I was going to have to make the best of it- and not just any old way, either. Politely and with consideration for my friends, because they were even more in the mess than I was. And I had better start by working on my manners. Another couple weeks like the last one... I shuddered, suddenly finding the energy to be scared. If I didn't stop causing problems, I might just find my friends telling me to leave, and that was a terrifying thought. 

It was also a completely ridiculous thought- Ryo and Sage would never have kicked me out, no matter how I irritated them- but I wasn't in an particularly rational frame of mind at the time. All I could think was that I'd better do something to mend matters, and I'd better get started right now, tired or not. 

Ever notice how when you have something to do 'right now' your mind goes blank? 

I'm not sure how long it took me to decide what I wanted to say. I just know I sat there- my feet on the grass, my arms across my knees, a tree-trunk at my back- trying desperately to think, for a long time. Even after I'd more or less made up my mind as to what would be acceptable (I hoped), it took me another three or four minutes to scrape up the nerve to break the silence. Finally I cleared my throat and sorta turned towards Sage, though I didn't actually look up from the water. "I'm really- sorry about this," I began in a slightly shaky voice, and tensed as the soft splashing stopped. "If I had somewhere else to go, I would, and I feel pretty bad that you're, you know...kinda stuck with me."

"We invited you," Sage said quietly. "And I told you, Rowen, you're not a burden."

Of course you would say that, it's the polite thing... "I know, and I thank you, but what I am to you and what I feel like inside me..."

"Ah. Yes."

I gulped, then went on. "And this week hasn't been a very good one." Taking the bull by the horns, as it were. "I regret that. I may not have been a burden, but I fear I've been a nuisance. It's partly because I'm so ignorant about how I should behave," I rushed on before he could say something polite about me not being that, either. "I know I've made plenty of mistakes...been a lot of confusion. Maybe- maybe you could help me again, tell me what I should do?"

Sage was silent for a moment, then said, "Admitting there's something you don't know and asking for help is admirable. I'll be glad to help, but...but I'm not completely sure about telling you what to do. Or not do," he added as an afterthought.

"Um...?" 

"One of the reasons things have been confusing this week is because of the formality," Sage said delicately. "And the casualness. And the formality."

"So I- I should pick one and stick with it? You guys are pretty casual, so-" I bit my lip to stop myself, swearing inwardly. Too direct. I snuck a look at Sage, who was gazing thoughtfully across the water. He seemed unoffended, but after a moment he frowned and turned towards me. I quickly looked away again, cursing my inability to be indirect.

"That's not really it, Rowen. I mean, it's not entirely about formal and casual, the confusion goes farther than that."

Evidently so. I didn't say anything.

"I guess the best way to explain this... When I came to live here, I didn't come as Ryo's guest. I came as his friend, and as his oniichan. He didn't treat me as a guest, not even as a guest who is a good friend; he treated me as his family. You- do you understand so far?" 

"I, um..." I picked up a stick of pine and started peeling the bark off it. It smelled nice. "I guess you're saying there's a difference between being a guest and being a brother, which does make sense, but I never had a brother, so I don't know exactly what the difference is. I mean...it's more than just not being formal, right?"

"That's right. It's how open they are, the things they feel free to discuss, the traditions they follow- or don't follow- in private. Even the jokes they tell." Sage paused again, then said almost apologetically, "When you joined us, we thought you would be doing so as one of our family, not as a guest. So..."

I took a few minutes to work that out, understanding what he was saying but not too sure of the implications. Always so many implications. I tossed the bare twig into the water and watched it float away, then leaned down to try and rinse the sticky, piney sap off my fingers. "So things got extremely...contradictory?" I hazarded.

"That, yes," Sage said rather wryly. "And very confusing. We expected either a brother or a guest, and hoped for the brother- but what was got was sometimes one, sometimes the other. Sometimes neither and sometimes both. I don't think anyone else could have managed both at once," he added with a humorous note. "But there are times when your body language is casual and your language is formal...or the other way around."

I bit back a reminder about not knowing what was expected of me and sighed. "I know how to be a guest," I mumbled. "Not a very good one, obviously, but I must be a better guest than brother, because I don't know a thing about that." I took another breath and said quickly, "I'd rather be a brother, but someone's got to teach me how, first. Tell me the- the rules and the appropriate behavior for family, please? The expectations," I couldn't help adding.

"Well..." Sage began, and there was another little splashing noise. "Well, that's... you see, each family is different, Rowen. What one family does, another doesn't. Some people are like m- the General. And some are like Mokei-san."

"Of course," I muttered, feeling foolish again. Now I understood the distinctions he'd made: Ryo's family. Our family. Not much of a family, only the two of them- well, and Blaze- but bigger than mine. Mine's just me... "And you two are different from them."

"Yes. We're different from most people, I think. We do what's comfortable for us. Telling you- giving you rules of what you may or may not do, what you should or shouldn't say while you're with us... we don't do that to each other, so we couldn't do it to you and then still call you a brother," he explained slowly. 

I stifled a groan- not very well- and laid my forehead against my arms, feeling drained. Then we're going to have a lot more weeks like this past one, was the dominant thought in my mind, and I wanted more than ever to curl up somewhere and hide from everyone and everything.

There was silence again for a few minutes, then Sage's hand suddenly rested on my shoulder. I jumped a little but didn't look up. "We do what's comfortable for us," he repeated softly. "We want you to do what's comfortable for you, Rowen. Ryo is exactly who he is; he lets me be who I am. You should be who you are, too, without worrying about rules and expectations. There's enough of those in public without having them in private, too."

It sounded great, it really did. It also sounded way too easy. "And have more weeks like this, as a result?" I asked tiredly. "When you live with other people, you have to think about them, not just yourself."

"That's certainly true," Sage admitted. "But I think things will be better after this. You've been confused. We've been confused. There were things we didn't ask you, and I think there were things you haven't asked us."

"I hate asking so much," I mumbled to my knees. "I hate feeling so stupid and ignorant and- and don't you ever get tired of being questioned every hour on the hour?"

"Of course not!" Sage, bless him, actually sounded surprised. "Didn't I say I thought it was admirable, admitting you don't know and wanting to learn?"

"Yes," I said wearily. "You're amazingly polite." 

"Polite?" He snorted. "Polite has nothing to do with it. ...Look at me."

I shook my head. 

"Please, Rowen, look at me, so you can see I'm serious." 

"I'm too embarrassed," I growled. "I've made too many mistakes and been too rude and too stupid and a burden and I bet you wish you'd never asked me to stay and now you wish you could get rid of me. And I don't blame you. I'd love to just crawl into a hole somewhere and- and- just- go away and not be a pest anymore. Hell, even my own mother doesn't want me, that tells you how-" I broke off right about there, partly from the sudden wave of tears at the back of my eyes and throat, and partly because Sage made this really sad-sounding sigh and wrapped his arm around me, holding me against him.

"Rowen," he murmured. "You really believe all that, don't you?"

I didn't say anything- I couldn't- but I turned and pressed my cheek against his shirt. And nodded.

"You and I, we're a lot alike," he said musingly. "I don't forgive myself easily either, because... well, you've met the General."

I nodded again and rubbed the back of my hand against my eyes, wondering what on Earth we were talking about and what the General had to do with it. "Once," I reminded him a shakily. "Why?"

"The General doesn't forgive people," Sage explained. "Everyone must be perfect; they must meet his expectations of what perfect is. There must be no mistakes, ever; it's unacceptable. It wasn't until I met Ryo...I knew the old man was wrong, in my heart, but my head was all full of failure- years and years of not being perfect." He paused a moment, then said quietly, "Someone made you think mistakes were a failure, too, didn't they?"

"Well..." I frowned, thinking about that. "Well, myself, I think. My teachers didn't. My parents didn't, either, they- they never knew I was anything but normal... 'course that's because being different wasn't acceptable... I was always ahead of everyone else, you know, so screwing up was just..." 

"Intolerable," Sage offered. 

"Yeah," I muttered, feeling suddenly guilty. He'd had it a lot worse than I had; what was I getting all morose and depressed about? At least my parents hadn't been like the General. "Compared to him, my parents are saints."

"Only by comparison, though. The General was...over-attentive, in a negative way. Your parents were under-attentive. The one's as bad as the other," my friend pointed out. I nodded and neither of us spoke for a while. Sage kept his arm around me and surprised me pretty thoroughly by stroking my hair with his free hand now and again. I quickly decided I liked that; it was strangely calming. 

"Thanks," I mumbled eventually. I felt better, but I was still disproportionately tired, somewhat numb, and deeply uncertain. "I- I'll try to- to behave better, and to ask about stuff I don't understand." Loneliness, like a sudden slap. All that talking, but no help, no real instructions, just 'be yourself, don't think making mistakes means you're a failure.' 

"I'll try to help you, Rowen, I know it's confusing for you and I know what it's like to feel like an unwanted burden," my friend said kindly. "It took me a while, too; I couldn't imagine why someone like Ryo would want me around all the time. But he was lonely..."

"I think there must have been more to it than just being lonely," I remarked, straightening up a little. 

"Just as there's more to us wanting you around than pity for the abandoned American?" he countered, and I looked up at him before I quite realized I was going to. He was wearing that fond smile I'd seen him give Ryo so often, but the words stung a little.

"I can't think what more there- oh. Right. The armor," I replied dourly, and Sage blinked, then frowned a little. 

"Very unlikely, considering how much you disliked it, don't you think?"

He had me there. "Well, I..."

"Well, I win," he concluded, and smiled again. "Eventually we'll convince you, though I hope it doesn't take too long. I do like you better when you're just being Rowen than when you're trying to be the perfect guest."

I sat blinking for a moment, having not seen the matter in quite that light before. "But- that- it's different," I protested. "I don't want people I admire to have bad opinions of me, or have to make excuses for me. Rowen's so- so rude and ignorant sometimes, at least the guest is polite! Most of the time."

Sage's eyebrows went up, and his cheeks turned a bit pink. "People you admire," he said softly, completely ignoring the rest of my remark. "Now that's nice to hear." And as I felt my ears start to get hot, he ran his hand lightly across my head, mussing my hair slightly. "There, you see why I like you better when you're just you? Rowen is a much nicer person than the polite guest he thinks he should be. And he's more interesting, too."

"Even- even when I jump to the wrong conclusion and- throw a fit?" I looked away, biting my lip.

"Well, the wrong conclusion was fairly understandable. The 'fit' was maybe not entirely necessary, but it was an honest reaction. Rowen, we won't always agree with you, just as you won't always agree with us, but we'll understand each other a lot better if we're not closed off from each other."

"I- am not quite sure I understood that," I forced myself to say. "I mean, that last part. Closed off."

"Ah. Well...I mean that formality and expectations put walls between people, emotional walls. They don't feel- they can't say what they truly mean, so confusion happens. Is that better?"

I shut my eyes and closed my mouth on an immediate 'no'. I understood what he was saying, I just couldn't see what it had to do with agreeing or nor agreeing or throwing unecessary fits. "We'll understand each other a lot better if...?"

"Um." Sage sighed. "I'm a fine one to talk about being casual, aren't I? I'm not sure how to say this. I wish Ryo was here, he's better at these things. ...We won't always agree. And that's fine, we don't have to always agree. But we will need to understand each other, and we can't do that if all that formality and expectations are in the way. And if understanding each other means yelling at each other every now and then, that's maybe not great, but it's better than being lonely and confused and not being able to depend on each other."

"Ohhh," I said softly, and something odd occurred to me. A Japanese boy was advising an American boy to be more open and casual and individualistic. Sage was telling me this. Sage the Inscrutable was suggesting such a thing to Rowen the Direct. Really, the whole thing was a role-reversal if I'd ever heard of one. "Okay, I see. And you're right, that- that's an awful feeling."

"It is," Sage said gravely. "My...first family was a very formal one, especially my mother. She didn't like her husband, so she didn't really like her children either. She did her duty, but she was... not someone that we felt love for. I don't really know how my...her husband felt about her, but I knew he loved his daughter, my older sister. He was kind to me, and I think in his way he did love me, some, but I never doubted that he loved Sayoko best. He never pretended otherwise. But my sister was fond of me, fond enough not to get jealous when Father paid me attention and talked to me." He paused and sighed. "And we both liked the cat," he added sadly. "The cat was very affectionate; it purred when I petted it, and would come sit on my lap sometimes and fall asleep."

I put my arm around him and he sighed again, then told me how his mother had sent him away without so much as a goodbye after his father died, not letting him hug his sister- not even making sure he got on the right train!- and the brutal way in which the General had informed him that his dead father wasn't his father at all. "And then it was the General for three years," he concluded bitterly. "If the Ancient One hadn't told me people would care about me someday... even knowing that, I almost didn't make it. I wanted so much to just die, some days."

That was when I leaned over and used both arms, hugging him tightly in spite of the heat and the awkward posture. "People care about you," I said bluntly- I wanted no mistakes or confusion about that at all. "Ryo does, you know that, and Blaze adores you. And I want to be your brother."

"Rowen, thank you," he whispered, hugging me back. "Thank you... Things are so much better now for me- they will be for you, too."

"I know they will," I answered, and willed it to be true. "I don't feel exactly fortunate right now, but I know I am, and I'll feel it later, when I'm not so...whatever."

Sage nodded. "I felt more or less the same, but in a different way," he mused, and that actually made me laugh. He blinked, then realized what he'd said and chuckled a little too. "I mean- you remember when Ryo told me I would live here. I was so relieved, and felt incredibly lucky-"

"Sorta how I felt when you two got me out of my two-months-late-on-rent apartment," I interjected, letting go of him. It was too hot to sit hugging for very long, and my back was starting to ache a little. "Only a lot moreso."

"Exactly. But..." he paused a moment. "Before that happened... I had stopped being afraid of the General, and I found that Ryo's approval meant more to me than his did. But I didn't feel fortunate, because I still had to live with the oni and listen to his abuse, even if it didn't affect me the way it used to. So I did feel lucky to have you and Ryo for my friends, but I didn't feel like a fortunate person." Sage shook his head and his hair fell over his eye. "I'm not sure that makes sense."

"Sure it does. You felt lucky to have us, but you were only half-lucky 'cause you still had to put up with him. You didn't get really fortunate until you got him out of your life for good. And even that took a little while to kind of sink in, didn't it? That night...there wasn't much to feel that night except scared stiff. Later, yeah, but right at the time, no way." I shrugged. "I felt the same then, too- I was awful glad you were more or less okay, intellectually, but all I was really feeling was majorly disturbed and spooked."

Sage pulled his hair back and peered at me with a half-impressed, half-amazed expression. "Thank you, yes. You're getting good at reading my mind, Rowen."

"I don't think I did, I think the 'same but different' did the trick," I replied, and realized I was definitely feeling a little better. Not exactly positive, but not nearly so negative. Having someone confide in you, finding out that they really do know how you feel- it makes you feel a lot less alone. 

"I don't think Ryo quite understands how important he is to either of us," Sage remarked softly, letting one foot slide into the cool water. "He can't understand people abandoning or mistreating their kids, because he never experienced it. He thinks it's a horrible, unnatural thing- and it is- but he- you remember he said we couldn't replace your parents, and you told him it was the other way around?"

I sighed. "Yeah. He probably thinks now that I didn't mean it. If you guys had really replaced her, why would I be wishing and hoping to be with her, and get upset about being ditched?"

"That's a fair question," was Sage's grave reply. And that was all he said, but the look he gave me was an eloquent question. And maybe a bit of a lecture to go with it.

"The answer is yes, I meant what I said, and yes, I'll mean it again when I say it again. I saw that letter and I thought finally, she'll come get me," I said honestly, "but when I think about it rationally, I know better. I know living with her drives me nuts and I know she wouldn't be around most of the time and I'd be alone and miss you guys awful bad. I'd be lucky to see you maybe once a year or talk on the phone every other month or so... And I know she was probably home for a while and only just got around to thinking about me..." I stopped and sighed, staring at the trees on the bank opposite me, feeling my mood plunge again. "I know I'm not important to her, Sage, and I know I am to you guys. It's just... it wasn't really about hoping she would change and decide to want her kid. It was about kinda wanting to- to hide from the facts and pretend, or find some way to go back to when it wasn't so...honest."

Sage's eyes softened; he wrapped his arm around me again and I leaned up against him. "I used to pretend the General would approve of me, perhaps even be kind to me," he said very softly. "I even used to pretend the Ancient One would come and find me and take me away and be a replacement grandfather. And sometimes I wanted to run away, to go back to Sendai, even though I had been unhappy there. The only reason I didn't was because I knew mother would simply punish me and send me back to him. Sometimes... I still think about that, of going back there and telling Mother that I'm allowed to return now, and seeing what she does- just hoping that maybe... of course she'd take me in, she'd have no choice, it's her duty. But she'd hate the duty and hate me for enforcing it on her."

"I guess it's human nature, we want what we can't have- especially when we know we can't," I said sourly, and shrugged. "But our pitiful excuses for family can't match the family-feeling we give each other- if we only stop daydreaming about what might-have-been."

"For you and me, you're right." Sage patted me, then let go and leaned down to splash some more water on his hands. "We need to find a way to put those old families out of our minds and accept the one we've chosen. But I wonder about Ryo, and I worry. He had a loving family- his mother died when he was born, you know, and his father when he was nine, so his grandparents raised him, and they loved him very much. But they both died before he was twelve: his grandfather in a terrible train-wreck in the late winter, and his grandmother from grief and poor health before the next fall." He paused, then added quietly, "Ryo came home from the dojo one night and found her in the bedroom. He thinks she felt worse than usual while cleaning and went in to lie down, but died before she even got to the bed."

"Oh!" I shuddered, closing my eyes, and whispered, "That's horrible! Poor Ryo...is- is that why he won't ever go in there?"

"That's why."

I shuddered again. I had noticed that Ryo wasn't keen to enter my bedroom and had been puzzled and, at times, half-offended by it. As a show of privacy, it was very thoughtful, but I had sometimes translated it as 'he's mad, he's disgusted, he doesn't want to be around me, he's tired of me' and a couple other variations. Another thing I'd leaped to conclusions about. 

Suddenly I wasn't all too sure I wanted to sleep in that room anymore, but where else was there? The sofa every night? Besides, she hadn't died in the bed... and suddenly I thought of Ryo, not even twelve, coming home and finding...that. "God...it must've half-killed him."

Sage nodded. "He told me he almost went crazy with loneliness and sorrow until White Blaze came to him, and even after that it wasn't easy. I know having us here is good for him and he's grateful to be loved, but I can't convince myself it's the same."

"It couldn't be the same," I agreed somberly. "But it's better for us to accept what we've got, and it's better for him to put his affection in people that can return it than in- the ones that can't. You can love someone who's dead, but you can't really feel like they love you back. So in that way, he does have it better." 

Sage looked at me thoughtfully, then nodded. "You're right. I know he's been worried about losing you... he's been pretty annoyed at your mother for the way she's treated you, but he wasn't looking forward to your leaving at all." I felt my ears go hot again, and they just got hotter when he added, "Neither was I, you know."

"Thanks," I murmured. "Thanks an awful lot. You've really helped me, Sage."

"Seiji."

"Seiji?" I repeated, puzzled. I thought I recognized the name from that awful night in the General's house- 'Date Seiji, he is dead... I am Sage...' - but-

He bit his lip and looked at the water, blushing bright red. "That is...what my brother calls me. In...in privacy."

"Oh," I said, still puzzled. Something his brother called him- Ryo, of course. But why was he telling me, and why was he so embarrassed? "So...Ryo calls you that, sometimes, in private." Did he think I'd take it wrong again? "...Because it's something brothers do?"

"Yes," he said quickly. "Yes, exactly, it's a- an affectionate thing between brothers." A quick glance at me. "You may- if you would like-"

"Ohhhhhh," I said, enlightened, and smiled for the first time in a while. "Okay, yeah. I will." I paused a moment, considering, then nodded, kind of to myself. "Seiji?"

He blushed again. "Yes?"

"Before I was Rowen, I was Toma..."

His eyes went wide, and then his smile lit his face like the sun rising. "Toma-niichan," he said softly, and that was when I knew that things were going to be fine. Maybe not always smooth, maybe sometimes confusing or frustrating...but families were like that.