Chapter II (2)- Family
Chapter II (2)- Family
“He has green hair,” a boy exclaimed in disbelief.
“We’ve noticed that,” a lady replied stiffly.
Kizu yawned and rubbed his eyes. He’d been sleeping on the uncomfortable wooden chair the Elites had offered him a few hours back. After giving him a change of clothes and a bit of food, they had launched into an interrogation. The first group had asked him questions about the crone and his relation to her. Some of them had looked piteously at him while others had shifted towards irritation or outright disbelief. But eventually he’d answered every imaginable question down to what color socks the crone preferred. Finally, they’d left him in peace to sleep. Until this new group intruded on him.
Three people leaned across the table in front of Kizu. A lady with her hair tied up in a net, examining him with a disapproving frown. A middle-aged man dressed in business attire with a forced smile and a twitching eye. And a boy, a year or so younger than Kizu, whose face was beet red and whose words were a blubbering mess. Supposedly, this was his family.
“Where’s Anna?” Kizu asked. If he was going to be sent off with these people, he at least wanted a familiar face.
The smile slipped from the man’s face. All three of them glared at Kizu.
“Kizu,” the man said. “Consider this our family’s first rule for your return. Don’t mention your sister. Ever. She’s been cut out of this family.”
“She’s my sister!” Kizu said, shocked.
“Not anymore. Consider her dead from this point on.”
“You can’t just un-sister my sister! She’s the only one I even remember out of the lot of you!”
The man took a big breath, as if preparing himself for a fight. “I am your father, the head of the Kaga family. I will only be going over this once, so listen closely. Your name is Kaga Kizu. It’s true, you used to have an older sister named Kaga Anna. A lot has changed since you were six years old. Anna did not adjust well to your absence. Four years ago, we decided that the irreparable damage she had dealt to our family’s name was too much. We gave her many opportunities to turn herself around. She squandered them. So we cut her off. Sentiment motivates bad business. Far better to sever ties with a wayward business partner than file for bankruptcy. We will not be discussing the damages, nor any other subject relating to Anna. You need not let it affect your life. You’ve survived for ten years without her just fine.”
“Besides,” the woman said. “You have your brother to get to know, now. He was only five when you left us. Hardly old enough to leave impressionable memories. It’ll be like discovering a whole new brother.”
The boy slumped in his seat and pouted. Finn. Kizu remembered his name now, it was Finn. He barely managed to dredge up even the name from his memory. His mother was right, Kizu barely remembered the boy at all. Though he already doubted that he’d serve as much of a replacement for Anna. Anna had been the one to take care of him. She’d taken him everywhere with her. They’d spent hours upon hours scouring the beach for seashells and comparing tidepool finds. The memories of his life from before the crone he could recall only vaguely, but Anna still stuck out in all of them.
The few memories he had of Finn, on the other hand, was of a screaming child who refused to leave their mother’s side. And, he noted with dismay, his brother still looked likely to devolve back into that state at the drop of a hat.
He let the issue die. Obviously, something had happened while he’d been away. The crone had taught him that listening yielded more answers than needling. If you listened to the mountain, you'd hear the landslide long before you saw it. Though he’d always suspected that was just the crone’s way of shushing him. She’d also told him more than once that wisdom and craftiness were two sides of the same coin.
His father carried on speaking.
“After some deliberation on the way here, we decided that if you were real - which it appears you are - we would sign you up for Shinzou Academy immediately. The semester starts next week; plenty of time to readjust to civilization before departing. You remember our villa out there, surely? You’ll be moving into it next week with Finn.”
“Not fair!” Finn blurted. “You made me live in the dorms for my entire first year! You said it was ‘character building.’ Now I finally get to move out, and you’re lumping me in with the smelly witch boy?”
“Finn, we can discuss this later,” their mother warned.
“I’ll stay in the dorms,” Kizu decided. Perhaps the only thing worse than living with the crone for ten years, would be living with this boy. The dorms had to be better than that. And if the decision earned him some good will with his brother? Even better still.
Instead, his words sent Finn into a blubbering fit. All the arguments and complaints he’d prepared seemed to jumble together into nonsense. As if, by trying to stop his torrent, Kizu had drawn it all out at once. Finn glared at him.
Kizu returned the look blankly, then shrugged. The reaction didn’t make much sense to him. His brother should have been grateful. But either way, he wouldn’t have to worry about the boy.
His parents kept talking, but he drowned out the noise with his own thoughts. A school. All his memories from before the crone felt faded and required mental stretches to dredge up, but the school sounded familiar. Shinzou Academy. The name rattled around in the back of his mind. He thought maybe he remembered visiting the library there once with Anna. An image of massive spiral staircases leading up to walls and ceilings full of books. It was difficult though, because he might have just been confusing the memory with an old dream. Dreams and childhood memories faded in much the same way.
Real or imagined, the memory he had of it was a good one. He decided that attending the academy seemed as reasonable of a path as any other.
“What’s the state of your education?” his mother asked. “We can hire private tutors for you. I’m loath to have you miss the first semester, but it may be necessary. We’re in an unfortunate position. Better to wait than embarrass yourself publicly.”
“The crone taught me the basics of brewing.”
“Is that it?” his mother’s eyes widened in horror. “No other studies? You don’t know how to do anything else?”
Kizu waved a hand and mentally commanded the space in front of him. The image of a grasping creature emerged from the wood grain of the table. The monster appeared to be all mouth, with rows of teeth spiraling down into its gullet. The creature grew larger, engulfing the table in front of them. The mouth twitched and twisted. Just for a little added effect, he decided to create the image of a bird flying across the table. The monster’s tongue lashed out and snatched the bird from the air.
The three across the table all jumped back in alarm as blood sprayed from the creature’s teeth as it ground the bird between them. His mother squealed and his father reached for a wand at his belt.
He released the image and let it collapse in on itself until the table was once again the only thing that remained.
“I can create some minor illusions. The crone put me in charge of that end of the security around her hut. I know a little divination and a few enchantments as well.”
His father, color returning to his face, smiled slightly. For the first time, the smile appeared genuine. “You’ll be fine. You’re my son, with my blood in your veins. Some hag in the woods can’t change that.”
Finn’s face remained pale. He shuffled to the side. “Can I be excused for a minute?”
“Do you need the lavatory?” their father asked, irritated. “Hold it.”
There was a painful silence.
“Blood of my fathers.” He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Finn’s crotch. “Just one embarrassment after another.”
A quick flash of light and their father put his wand away, scowling and shaking his head.
“Now,” his mother said, dabbing her face with a handkerchief. She tried to smile but it was shaky on her face. “We need to do something about that witch hair of yours.”