Chapter 1: Kizuna

My brother and I never really got along much. He and I fought constantly. The day our parents told us we were having a little brother or sister, we argued.

We'd both been in the living room, playing with our bricks. Rather, I was building towers that Shinka was knocking down. Even then, he was a pain. When Mom gave us the news, we immediately began glaring at each other.

"I want a little brother," Shinka, my four-year-old brother, exclaimed. "Girls aren't no fun."

"A little sister would be really neat," I countered. "She'd be really fun, I bet."

We'd had a similar argument every few days, ever since our parents told us they were going to have a new baby. I distinctly remember them informing my brother and me before that they weren't going to have anymore kids. I think Mom really wanted a daughter and talked Dad into it.

Our parents put an end to that fight by sending us to our rooms. We stayed there for twenty minutes. To a five-year-old, that felt like forever. When Mom and Dad finally called us, I had nearly finished reading a story from my first grade reader.

"Yuusou, Shinka, we need to think of names for your little brother or sister," Dad said. "Yuusou, you get to pick a name for a boy. Shinka, you can pick a name for a girl."

That didn't make me very happy. After all, I'd wanted a girl and Shinka had wanted a boy. When I was born, Dad picked my name. It means "manly." Mom picked Shinka's name, which means "God's addition."

Shinka had an idea right off the bat. He said, "I want a girl to be named 'Kizuna.'" That means "bind."

"That's a dumb name," I complained. "Kizuna isn't a nice name."

"Yuusou, calm down," Mom said. "It's just fine."

I don't remember what name I suggested for a little brother. I think it was Fukutsu or "enduring." My idea wasn't needed since I got exactly what I wanted: a little sister.

The day our parents announced the baby was going to be a girl, I cheered and Shinka literally cried. He didn't let up for an hour.

Our house was quite small and the crib wouldn't fit in my parents' room. They decided to put the baby's crib in my bedroom, since I was neatest, and I was to move in with Shinka, just for sleeping.

His first response was a howl like that of a dying coyote. "I don't want smelly Oniisan in my room," he shouted. "I don't want him, I don't want him, I don't want him!"

"Shinka, there's no way to put the crib in my room," Mom said, in a vain effort to comfort my brother. "You'll be okay. Yuusou won't mess with your stuff. You'll only be sleeping together. His things will be in his room, okay?"

That didn't help. Shinka continued his "I don't want him" mantra for another fifteen minutes. He gradually got quieter, until it finally ended. My parents sighed in relief and went to prepare a snack for the two of us.

"Shinka, I promise not to mess with your toys," I said.

For whatever inexplicable reason, Shinka slapped me. I didn't cry, even though my face hurt. With that, my little brother marched up to his room and closed the door. He didn't come out for the rest of the day, even for supper.

The next five months went quickly. Over that time, Mom had become very fat. I had learned what the word "diet" meant, and asked Mom when she was going on one. Most mothers probably would have slapped a kid who asked that, but she took it as an opportunity to explain where the baby was.

She did not tell me how a baby got into her stomach like that, no matter how many times I asked her.

A few days after that, Dad packed us all in the car and drove to the hospital in Lexington, Kentucky. Mom was having an eighth month check-up or something.

I thought something was wrong when I noticed that clock in the waiting room said 2:15. I'd only just learned to tell time, but I'd learned quickly. Mom's appointment had been at 1:00 and shouldn't have taken that long. Shinka was perfectly happy watching television.

The doctor had taken my parents into room number 813 (Maternity Examination Room 2) for the check up. His office was next to it. Just when I was about to go knock on the door of the exam room, they exited and went into the doctor's office.

In case you're wondering, I can remember details like that because I have eidetic (or photographic) memory. That doesn't mean I literally remember everything I see or hear or what have you, but I do have very clear memories, especially when I concentrate on putting something into my memory.

After waiting a couple minutes, I pressed my ear to the door, but could only just make out my father's voice. When it sounded like he was upset, I knocked on the door.

"Come in," the doctor, who had been introduced to me as Doctor Richards, called. I pushed the door open to find him sitting behind his desk and my parents on the other side. Mom was sitting and Dad was standing.

"What's wrong, Yuusou?" Mom asked. "Is Shinka okay?"

"He's watching TV. What's taking so long?"

"We're just talking to the doctor about something," Dad said. "Go back to the waiting room."

"Wait a moment," Mom said. "Let's tell him." Dad opened and closed his mouth, then sat down. "Yuusou, Doctor Richards says there are some problems with the baby. He wants me to have her right away, but Daddy thinks we should wait."

"What's wrong with her?" I asked, suddenly afraid. "Is she okay? Is she gonna die?"

Mom took my hands and hugged me. When she let go, she said, "She's fine, except for some small things. Tell me, do you think I should have her now?"

"Can you have her now?" I was excited by the idea of getting my new little sister right away. "Would I get to see her today?"

Even Dad laughed at that. The doctor looked at us in confusion. It was only then that I noticed we'd been talking in Japanese. Mom told him what I'd said and he chuckled too. I felt embarrassed.

"Yuusou, if they took me in now, they'd make her be born tomorrow," Mom said. "You probably wouldn't get to see her until the day after. Would that be okay?"

"Yes," I said. "I want to see her."

I was surprised when my parents turned to the doctor and told him to go ahead. They took Mom into the hospital to "induce" (one of many words I learned throughout the time Mom was pregnant) and Dad took Shinka and me home long enough to pack himself a bag and leave us with us with the babysitter.

The month was November and it was Thanksgiving weekend. They took Mom on Monday, Kizuna was born on Tuesday, and Dad came back to take us to see them on Wednesday. Thanksgiving was the next day.

We saw Mom first. She was lying in a bed, dressed in a hospital robe. I was a nice enough brother to let Shinka hug and kiss her first. He insisted on climbing into the bed beside her and I had to go around to the other side to reach her.

"Are you okay?" I asked, determined to look more intelligent than my brother. It really wasn't hard, since he had started to suck on his thumb, though Dad immediately pulled his finger from his mouth.

"I'm tired, but happy."

"Where's Kizuna?"

"She's in the nursery. Your father will take you down to see her."

"Will you take me to see her?" I asked Dad.

"Yuusou, you should spend some time with your mother," Dad scolded me.

"Don't worry," Mom said, smiling. "He's excited about seeing his new sister. Take both of them down, let them see her, then come back."

"Alright."

Dad had to lift Shinka out of the bed. He said, "Come on, Shinka, we're going to see your new little sister."

"Don't wanna see no stinky girl," he cried. "I wanna stay with Mommy."

"Shinka, go see your sister," Mom ordered. He let go of her then and let Dad carry him away. Before we left, Mom added, "Be good, Shinka."

"What do you think, Yuusou?" Dad asked when we stepped into the hallway.

"A new little sister will be fun," I answered. "I bet she'll be really fun."

"My legs hurt," Shinka complained. We'd gotten about two yards from Mom's room. To be fair, it was a long way up from the street, but he'd been carried the whole way.

"The nursery is right around that corner," Dad said, pointing a little way down the hallway ahead of us. "We'll be there in a minute."

Shinka groaned. "I wanna go back to Mommy."

Thankfully, he shut up the rest of the way, except for an occasional groan.

There were about ten babies in the nursery. Most had the little blue blankets of boys, but there were two girls in their pink blankets. Dad pointed out the one closest to the window and told us that was our sister.

"I can't see," Shinka said. He was just an inch or two too short to see in. Dad picked him up and pointed again. "Oh."

With that, Shinka squirmed out of Dad's arms and asked to go back to Mom. I still wanted to see my baby sister. She was pink, naked, and wrinkled, but I thought she looked really cool.

Unfortunately, Shinka's complaints caused Dad to take my hand and lead us away. We didn't get to see her in the hospital again, but it was only three days later that Dad brought them home. They said it would have been sooner but for the extra tests to make sure she was okay.

I've always been in love with my sister. Ever since my parents walked in the door eight months after my sixth birthday holding that small pink bundle, I was entranced.

I remember that day, vividly. Dad opened the door for Mom, who was holding Kizuna, my sister. She called, "Yuusou, Shinka, come see your little sister."

I walked forward timidly. After all, I'd only seen her once in the hospital. I knew how tiny, weak, and fragile she was. When Mom lowered her to my eye level, I got a close look at her face for the first time. I immediately had a feeling a little like the one I got when my mother or father would hold me and read or sing to me, but it was much stronger.

After staring almost enraptured for a while, I forced myself to step back so Shinka could finally pull himself away from the TV long enough to look at her.

"What do you think?" Mom asked us.

"She's great," I exclaimed. "I love her. Can I hold her?"

My parents exchanged amused glances. At the time, I could only see them smile and didn't really think about it. Today, I realize that they were surprised by my reaction. I think Mom was pleased as well, seeing her six-year-old taking to his little sister so well.

Dad sat me down on a chair, then took Kizuna from Mom. She began to cry almost at once. Dad looked sheepish and said, "Looks like I woke her."

Shinka yelled, "Make her stop. I can't hear the TV."

Dad tried for a moment to quiet her, but failed miserably. Finally, I said, "Let me hold her, please." Mom gave him a look that said, "Just do it." I held out my arms eagerly to accept her.