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“IKKI!”
Sakura didn’t sound too happy about something. Were she and Daiji already fighting? Ikki threw down his mop and went into the next room, mentally preparing to pull his siblings apart, “What happened?” he said.
“We’ve been calling you to come decorate the tree for the last five minutes,” said Daiji.
“Daiji’s been calling you. He’s not loud enough,” Sakura said. She picked up a string of fairy lights, “Come on. Let’s make it pretty before Mom and Dad get back.”
It had been Sakura’s idea to put up the tree and decorate it while their parents were at another hospital appointment. It seemed strange to Ikki that by this time next year, he would have another little sibling. He couldn’t imagine his parents being almost sixty and waiting up at night for a teenager to come home, but they seemed more than happy with it. They’d obviously missed each other when Dad was in hiding, and – Ikki wasn’t going to think about that. He would probably feel more like the baby’s uncle than brother, but still, he was looking forward to it. They were the strongest family.
“Ikki?” Sakura said again.
“Hmm?”
“You’re daydreaming.”
“I’m not,” said Ikki, smiling as he picked up a piece of tinsel.
The box of decorations contained many different things the Igarashis had picked up over the years: some of them gifts from customers, others made by the siblings when they were back in school. There was even a lumpy-looking Santa Claus that Buu had bought for their dad one year.
“It’s the last year you can put the star on the tree,” Daiji told Sakura. Their family tradition was that she always did it, because she was the youngest.
“Not yet. Next year the baby won’t be old enough,” said Sakura, although she did sound a little wistful.
They agreed to wait until their parents got back before adding the star, and then Daiji suggested baking cookies. Ikki said he would go to the nearby store for ingredients. He wanted a moment alone to think.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone who should be with them today was not. It wasn’t just because his parents were out. Was there something, or someone, he was forgetting? It didn’t seem to be any of their friends. Hana would be coming over on Christmas Eve to take Sakura on a date; George, Hiromi, and Tamaki had all promised to stop by over the holidays. Who was it, then? Maybe it was just because the baby wasn’t here yet. He or she already felt like a precious part of the family, even before they were born. That still didn’t feel like the answer. Why did Ikki feel like he was forgetting something?
When he got home, he passed the little black rubber ducky that had recently taken up residence in the bath house. It was certainly a weird object, even a little creepy. Ikki wasn’t sure where it had come from. Daiji might have bought it during his recent brief but amusing goth stage, when he’d donated a lot of his plaid shirts and replaced them with darker clothes. He and Sakura certainly believed that the ducky had some kind of power to protect the family. Somehow, Ikki could accept that. He went to fill a dish with water, idly thinking that the ducky might accept it as an offering.
Sakura appeared in the doorway, “What are you doing? Come on, let's make those cookies!”
“I just thought I’d –” he said; but didn’t finish. There was no point trying to explain. He’d feel silly talking about it.
Daiji and Sakura started squabbling over whether to carefully weigh everything out, or “improvise” (Sakura’s words.) Ikki tried to patiently explain that they needed to follow the recipe to ensure even cookies that would rise properly.
“See?” said Daiji.
“IKKI!” Sakura wailed.
Ikki said, “One of you is saving the world and the other one’s going to medical school and you’re still fighting?”
“Yeah, well, that’s different! We’re at home now. We don’t have to be professional all the time,” said Daiji.
Ikki smiled, and they smiled back. He suggested Daiji measure out the wet ingredients and Sakura the dry ones, which included the chocolate chips so she should be happy with that.
Their parents came home an hour or so later. The baby seemed to be doing very well. Ikki’s mother had every intention of working right up until she was about to give birth, but he was determined to take over at least some of her responsibilities at Shiawaseyu. This probably wasn’t the time for a discussion about it, “I’ll check on the cookies,” he said.
“Cookies? I thought I could smell something nice,” said Dad.
“Yeah! And we waited to put the star on top of the tree until you got back,” Sakura said.
“It does look lovely, doesn’t it? Let’s wait for Ikki and then we’ll finish it,” said Mom.
Ikki turned the cookies and then came back to his family for the finishing touch on the tree. Sakura reached up to place the star, and the others clapped, even though she was an adult now.
“I remember when you were so tiny, I had to lift you right up to reach it,” said Dad.
“It doesn't feel like Christmas without our tree," Mom said. “And now we have all our family photos on display again …”
Daiji, Sakura, and Dad all looked over at her. Ikki blinked. The photos had always been up, hadn’t they? He didn’t remember it ever being any other way. Shiawaseyu was their home, “The photos have always been there.”
There was silence for a moment, and then his mother brightly said, “Of course they have. Let’s have tea.”
“I’ll make it,” said Daiji. “You should sit down.”
“And in twenty minutes we can eat the cookies!” said Sakura.
“Hell yeah! I LOVE cookies,” Ikki said, and laughed. Why had his voice come out sounding so deep, and since when he had he cackled like that? He didn’t ever say hell yeah either. It was no surprise his family were staring at him.
“Are you OK?” said Daiji.
“Sure,” said Ikki, relieved that he sounded normal again, “Why wouldn’t I be? I have you two home for the holidays.”
He put an arm around each of his siblings and led them into the kitchen.