Koi No Yokan (gojo x oc)

14. Kotsuage

February 2006
One week after.

"You're okay with me doing this?"

"Go ahead."

Shoko's lab seems dimmer than usual. The fluorescent lighting turns the complexion a sickly gray, or maybe it's Hama's cold body lying between us.

"There's nowhere to bury her anymore, and I know her age and technique output make her a good guinea pig."

"Still," Shoko pulls her lab coat on, "She's your family."

All the other bodies—what's left of them—have either been claimed by distant relatives, or disposed of somehow by the government once the estate was sealed off. Hama and Momo's, however, are for my brother and I to keep. I didn't want to bother Tomiji with the boring logistics of it all; what to do with the bodies, where they'd go. From what Suguru tells me, he's still not doing well, night terrors and body aches. But, like myself, he's getting better at keeping a straight face. Something I never wanted for him.

"It's fine. Make good use out of her."

Shoko scoffs a bit. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"And then there's this," Suguru sighs, pulling a sheet from the other bench. Immediately, I avert my eyes. "You have to look, Kaede-chan. To identify—"

"It's his," I say curtly. "Watch and everything."

"Right, but it's what's beneath the watch that should concern you."

Slowly, my eyes lower to where Suguru's gloved hand points. To the heavy lines carved into my father's wrist. "So?"

"You don't get what this implies?"

"I get what it implies. I'm asking 'So, why should I care?'."

"Why should you care?" Suguru repeats wildly, "This is what you wanted: someone to blame. This is the answer."

"Okay. He's to blame. He's also dead. End of story."

"Then where's the body?"

"Consumed by one of the curses?" I suggest.

"He's the only one? And since when have Jujutsu had the ability to summon curses in the first place?"

I understand every direction Suguru attempts to push me towards. Somehow, my father summoned them—curses or not. For some reason, he's responsible for the loss of everything.

The little I considered to know of him, was it all wrong?

"Your father is a very broken man."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

My eyes glance once more at Hama's marred figure. The ashen skin, halved by a charred crisp. What did you mean by that?

I force the curiosity out of my mind. No answer is for certain, and perhaps I'm beyond the point of wanting answers. What is for certain is that these are not the only remains to attend to today.

"Look, I appreciate you investigating the case for me, Suguru, I really do." Addressing it in any capacity still pained me. "But I can't let this curse me, or Tomiji for that matter. For both our sakes, four unregistered special grades attacked. Uematsu Kunio is dead."

I turn to Shoko, whose scalpel is already in hand. "Do what you want with the arm. We won't need it for later."

∞

"Satoru isn't coming?"

Suguru stands in the corner of the room, observing quietly. I'm sure, in the back of his mind, he's disappointed with the way I'd handled the news. "He was sent to Fukuoka."

"Why does it matter if he's here or not?" Tomiji huffs. "He's not family."

I glance up at my brother, who hypocritically has no issue with Suguru joining us; who doesn't understand that, to me, Satoru is... Well, he's certainly someone I believe deserves to be here. I neglect to argue, though. Not over the ashes of our sister. Not while we pass the fragments of her bones between our chopsticks.

Kotsuage. I'd only done it once, shortly after my mom passed. The custom feels as grim now as it did then. With every piece that clatters into the ceramic jar, I see Momoko's eyes flash before my own. Clink. I smell the faint mix of dirt and strawberries that perfumed her skin. Clink. I hear her radiant laugh. Clink. Feel the hair I used to brush every night, glide between my fingers.

"You could at least be bothered to say something."

"What would you like me to say?"

Clink.

"I don't know. A memory, something," Tomiji grumbles. "Anything is better than standing here in silence."

The air leaves my lungs painfully slow. "Do you remember our family's philosophy about death?"

Clink.

He glances up at me. "The two roads? What about it?"

"Did you believe in it?"

"I don't know." We drop one more fragment into the jar. "I never thought about it much."

"If it is true, what do you think Momo-chan saw? You know, when she went right."

"Probably a basket of muffins or something."

The corner of my mouth twitches, breathing out what's nearly a laugh.

"You wouldn't believe how many muffins she baked in three months."

"Were they any good?"

Clink.

"They were alright," he sighs. "The cakes were awful, though."

The sound of the jar is all we can hear for a long while, until Tomiji speaks again, "I think she saw our house. You, me, mom, and dad all together. She always seemed to want that."

A tremble rattles my chopsticks, until my hand gives out and my eyes are clenched shut. The lump in my throat grows too large to swallow. I grip the table's edge like a lifeline, hoping that if I slow my breathing enough, the pain will cease.

It's of no use. I miss her. I miss her so much. The impression that grief silences over time could not be further from the truth. Every minute that passes is just another spent trapped with all my failures. All the inescapable questions as to what more I could have done or said.

The best of us, now nothing more than a heap of ash and a jar of bones.

A tear rolls out beyond my control.

"Why are you crying?"

"Why do you think?"

"Can't you pull yourself together for this at the least?"

When I look at my brother from across the table, I find his expression to be as ruthless as his words. A coldness breaching his eyes, glazed with deep disappointment. Resentment drags every muscle on his face.

A million words course through my mind, extended apologies, pleas for sympathy, and excuses for my lack of strength. All the things I'm aware I should have said a month ago. But we finish filling the jar in utter silence, all words unsaid and not a single more tear shed.