Page 101 of Kotori
"Can we climb all the way to the top?" Aya asks, staring up at the path that disappears into green forest, already tugging at her shirt.
"If you think your little legs can make it," Mizuki teases gently, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "It's over an hour of walking. In this heat."
"I can do it! Paige-mama will help me if I get tired, right?"
"Of course, sweetheart." I adjust the small backpack with water and snacks, grateful Hayashi insisted on extra bottles. "We'll take lots of breaks."
Kohana falls into step beside me as we begin the climb. "The gates are donated by businesses and families who want blessings," she explains with quiet pride in her knowledge. "Some are hundreds of years old."
"It's beautiful," I say, watching the light filter through red wood to create patterns on the stone path.
"Papa brought us here after Mama died," she continues softly. "To pray for her spirit. He said the mountain would help carry our sadness up to heaven."
"Did it help?"
"A little." She glances at her father, walking ahead with Aya chattering at his side. "He cried that day. The only time I ever saw him cry."
The image hits me unexpectedly. Kaito, the controlled man who commands absolute obedience, grieving openly for his lost wife while trying to comfort his children. The contradictions in his character continue to surprise me.
"He still misses her," Kohana says with the perceptiveness of a thirteen-year-old who notices everything. "But he's happier now. Since you came."
"Good," I whisper, emotion thick in my throat. "I want him to be happy."
We climb in the oppressive July heat, stopping frequently for water breaks and to escape into whatever shade the torii gates provide. Even with the frequent pauses, my shirt sticks to my back with perspiration, and Aya's cheeks are flushed pink despite the sun hat Kaito insisted she wear.
"This heat is brutal," Mizuki pants, fanning herself with her hand as we pause under a particularly large gate.
Ahead of us, Kaito lifts Aya onto his shoulders for the steeper sections, and I catch my breath for an entirely different reason. His white cotton shirt has begun to cling to his back with sweat, the fabric becoming translucent enough that I can make out the dark lines of ink underneath. The dragon's tail or the wind bars that flow down his arms. I can't tell exactly, but the suggestion of his hidden tattoos visible through damp fabric makes my mouth go dry.
He turns to check on our progress, and I quickly look away, heat flooding my cheeks that has nothing to do with the summer sun.
About a third of the way up, we encounter a small side shrine where families often stop to make offerings. Aya immediately pulls me toward it, chattering excitedly about the proper protocols.
"That fox is Inari's messenger," she says, pointing to a stone figure. "He carries prayers to the rice goddess. But you gotta be careful because sometimes you get exactly what you ask for instead of what you want."
"Aya-chan, you're mixing up the stories again," Mizuki corrects gently, but she's smiling. "The fox messengers carry wishes, not prayers. There's a difference."
"Is not!" Aya protests. "Takeshi-ojisan told me!"
"Takeshi-ojisan tells you lots of things," Kohana observes, looking up from photographing the shrine details. "Remember when he said the kappa in the pond would steal your soul if you didn't bow first?"
"That was different! And I still bow to the pond just in case."
Kaito chuckles as he joins our little group. "Takeshi has always enjoyed dramatic storytelling when it comes to you girls. The truth is usually less exciting."
"But more reliable," Mizuki adds, earning herself an indignant look from Aya.
I watch the easy banter between them, the way they tease and correct each other with obvious affection. This is what I never had: siblings who know your stories, parents who share your history, the comfortable rhythms of people who've loved each other for years.
"What would you ask for if you could have anything?" I ask Aya as we approach the shrine.
She scrunches up her face in concentration. "For our family to stay together forever. And maybe for you and Papa to have a baby so I can teach it stuff. And for Mizuki to stop being sad all the time."
The casual mention of babies is a shock. My breath catches, and for a moment the mountain air feels too thin. A baby. With Kaito. The image flashes unbidden through my mind, holding a dark-haired infant while his daughters crowd around, becoming a real family in the most fundamental way possible.
"Paige-mama?" Aya tugs at my hand, concerned by my sudden stillness. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, sweetheart," I manage, my voice slightly hoarse. "That's a very sweet wish."
