"Ikigai.... up... wakeup." The unknown whispers reminded her of her mother, who always so lovingly woke her up. Her eyes opened to the warmth of sunlight, cozying up her face. Then her mind drifted back to what she calls her instinct, which was to get hold of something to defend herself right away. Before even identifying the threat.

That all too familiar, deep voice swept over he whole existence. 'Avery, remember the world, its a place of misery and mistrust. Remember my child, my soldier. Misery is not something caused accidentally, it is brought upon most intentionally. So do not be a coward to sit back, enduring it, thinking it might be no ones fault. Its always someone's fault. It always is...'

She gasped as she came to her senses and the first thing she registered was ink engraved skin, only centimeters away from her face. She pulled her head back and realized it was Tsuda's neck, she had her nose touched with, while she was asleep. She pulled herself farthest away from him and felt the door of the car behind her back.

"You've slept well, Ikigai. We're home now." His warm eyes shifted from me and he started talking to the man outside his window, giving some sort of instructions. Which gave her time to ponder over the word Ikigai and what it meant. Thoughtlessly, she looked ahead and her breath got caught in her throat, at the sight in front of her. what is this..? She whispered intended for her own ears only.

There was a garden velveted by lush grass, in the middle of it was a wide track of smooth pebbles curving it's way to a door, so wide yet it looked nothing like a door. There was no knob, no handle nothing. She looks around and saw greens and blues and pink and purple blending together like a painting worth billions.

There were huge tree leaves with fresh dew on it. They made her blink twice to confirm it was real. The freshly spread sunlight made the due sparkle like the meteors she used to see, falling from the sky landed on these leaves, never leaving a single spark from their descent.

Those trees and grass was everywhere her eyes could see and right in the middle of this heaven layed a castle. It wasn't a castle she imagined or read about. It was a single story, there was no second floor to it. But that single floor kept going and on and on. It's boundary walls too long. For a moment she wished she could use a golf cart inside the house, just from looking at it from out side.

"You love the soil and what comes out of it." He whispered so close to her that made her realize how lost she was in the sight that she lost focus of time and people around her. "That's another thing I just found out about you." She looked at the sky and saw a few clouds coming from the east.

"It will be raining soon. Those meteors will not spark anymore." The last part wasn't meant for someone else's ears. She thought he would taunt or laugh at her for her imagination because that's how he was, always making fun and finding jokes out of things. But what he said next shocked her. "Interesting. I used to believe they were tears, of the fairies living in here." "Why would a fairy cry?" It made her ask.

"Why do you cry?" He asked through warm eyes. She looked up in his eyes and saw something that almost made her flinch. She wasn't afraid of blood, guns or curses.

Hatred was something she had seen too often in her life, never flinched or cried over them. But his eyes held things she couldn't even name. But she knew what it was.

When Achilles looked at Patroclus, this must be how his eyes had looked.

If sea could have eyes it would look like this while gazing upon sand, whom he uses all his strength to touch no matter how many time he's pushed back by the wind.

Few seconds passed without any words and the sun poured fresh beam over Tsuda's figure, making his black hair shine as though the sun mistook him for the moon. His black eyes looked like wine, a hint of redish brown in them, which might just be a trick of the sun.

His voice filled the silence, "They get sad too, they can cry too. But look at how beautiful even their pain is." 'Oh the fairies' She looked at the dew again and agreed blankly. "It is."

He smiled and said, "Let's get inside first. The owner of this fairyland is waiting for us." She tilted her head and asked, "who?" He motioned her to walk with him and she did, then he replied. "My okaa-san and oto-san." His parents she guessed and kept following him.

The mystery of how the door would open without a knob or a handle turned out to have very simple physics. It simply slid open at his hands. A female servant welcomed them with a bowed and said something in her language. Tsuda smiled and replied by shaking his head in a refusal.

"Can I take your shoes off?" He asked Avery, at which she shook her head. "I can do it myself." He took his shoes off, and slid into warm indoor slipper.

The woman tried to place a pair in front of her but Tsuda held his hand up at which she froze. He took the slippers out of her hands and put them in front of her himself.

It was really cold there. She walked behind him on a solid dark wood floor which was slightly above the ground outside.

"Did you tell them about me coming here?" He replied to her without looking back at her. There was a slight smile in his voice. "Oh I did not. But they know." She nodded without realizing he won't be able to see the nod. "They're sweet people, don't be nervous or anything." She held her thigh softly cupping her hand over her wound.

She wasn't nervous, or afraid but she was uncomfortable and very much at that. She guessed that much, that she would be here for a while now and they didn't even ask for permission from them.

There was an actual green house in the middle of the house, with and open wooden lobby around it, in a square parameter. And there where wooden sliding doors attached with the lobby.

There was a door at the end of the lobby way bigger than any other. Which opened by 2 of the servants with a bow. They entered and Tsuda bows just as he stepped inside. She didn't had the time to look around and clumsily hung her neck low copying Tsuda.

There was a cough which seemed like a cover for a laugh. And she felt like it was intended for her. She peeked up and saw a huge hall infront of them. With a bunch of people sitting on luxury cushions on the floor, behind very expensive looking tables, with dragons and God's carved on them.

All of them were wearing kimono, each looked too expensive to even touch. Even the babies fisted gold chains while sucking their thumbs.

"Raise your heads." A deep voice, much similar but older than Tsuda commanded. I looked up and saw that at the end of the hall, sat a man, with eyebrows as thick as the machete, curving down at the end. With a woman sitting right beside him, she had a neat, high bun with a stick across it. It had some traditional jewels on it.

They both looked elderly but the man looked like he owned a world she never knew existed. Such power he held on his shoulder and proud he looked, almost provoking, daring someone to put a finger on what was his and see what happens. In that way he was just like Tsuda.

Behind them was a marble stand holding a katana that looked as old as the time itself. And there were dozen other weapons around it, all held on unique stands.

And there were decoration made with fine China, gold, marble and so many things she couldn't even name few of them. Yet among them stood a sculpture of a tree, she knew too well, because it formed under her very own hands. She smiled at the graceful sculpture of a Bonsai tree made by dark marble.

Yet it had each and every leaf each and every curve, as though it was the only real tree the world ever grew. "Thank you for the welcome, father." She had never felt a silence this eerie before. Not even in the night outside of a murderer's house.

"Are we speaking like a foreigner now?" At the cold sarcasm he smiled and replied, "I would like her to know this was done in honour of me." His father stood up and glared at him with eyes ablaze for a second and they turned as soft as a peach, in the next. He opened his arms and said, "That's my son." Without a second of hesitation he walked into his arms and wrapped himself around his father and likewise.

They pulled back and his father turned to her. "Hamasaki clan welcomes you." She nodded and thanked him awkwardly. That was the thing about people, they talk. It wasn't half bad, but they expected words back in replies, now that she hated the most.

They both greeted his mother who literally hugged both of them. "You're always late Tsuda. Don't you know how much I miss you?" Her voice was so soft and girly and her smile like the rain to a desert. He apologized and told her he was back for a while now. During all that his father had his eyes glued to his wife with a soft smile, which grew bigger every time she smiled.

They sat down and breakfast was served. People were chattering and laughing some of the youngsters came to greet Tsuda, who was sitting right beside her. So they waved at her too, trying to make conversation. Some of them were very fluent in English. Tsuda observed and help them make conversations when they were stuck.

She looked around waiting for all that to be over so she could be in a place with less people. His father noticed her looking around. "You seem to like this collection here." "Yes." At her short reply Tsuda along with every other person in the room stopped and stared at them. So she had to say something more. "It's... very elegant and traditional." He nodded in approval.

"Yes I love my culture and value my traditions." She nodded with a hope that this would be all she needed. But they stared at her again, waiting for her to say something.

'Okay Avery, Think of something. Anything!'

She blurted out, "But you do have that sculpture, which is not from here." Everyone in the room looked at the bonsai tree, she pointed at. "Yes. I don't discriminate true art when I see it. Do you know much about art?" Another question. She felt herself sinking deeper and deeper.

"You do?" Tsuda asked over it. "Not enough." Her reply was short.

"Elpida isn't an ordinary artist. Do you know him? Otherwise you can't identify his art." His father asked again.

"No. I don't." Her replied and to her relief everyone got indulged in other things. But Tsuda, she realized, has been looking at her, deep down her soul. "What?" She was annoyed.

"You're lying." He told her. Before she could deny or even come up with another lie, he turned around and started speaking to one of his elder cousins.

"You must be tired, child. Let's get some rest." His mother said to her and the gathering was dismissed just like that. That was authority, yet it didn't change her humble speech or soft smile. It reminded her of her own mother then, though she was such a powerful woman just like this woman, she was never once arrogant or thankless.

She took her to the room herself, though there were three servants right behind them, holding baskets of towels and fruits and nessecery things. They placed it in the room and left with a good night.

She saw a thick japanese futon neatly laid down on the floor, in the middle of the room. It had all traditional furniture, including an expensive looking folding screen at the corner to change clothes. She laid down and closed her eyes for a rest after all the traveling.

There was a circular window on one of the wall. It also had the sliding mechanism, but the thin colorful glass was so pretty like a painting. It was cleanly cut forming a picture of waves engulfing a moon, with flowers on the sides and the bottom. Each petal made by precisely cut pinkish glass and joined by molten silver, as it's borders.

All the colors blended together perfectly. The sun light made the image reflect on the wooden floor, stamping it there. She slid closer to the floor, touching the image on floor with gentle fingers.

Suddenly the picture started moving and she gasped. She soon realized that the window was being slid open from the outside. She sat up and looked cautiously. Against all her worst expectation, it was Tsuda who slipped into the room.

"Aye! Why..." He hushed her while closing the window. "Uncle! Where are you?" One of the kids of the family spoke from somewhere on the other side of the window. "Do you think he ran away because he suck at archery?" The other questioned him.

"He knew he will loose the bet." They talked some more but switched to japanese halfway. After a while they left. Tsuda huffed and sat on her futon, right beside her. Which made her instinctively scoot away a little. "That's not true. I just don't feel like playing archery. They lie just like you, Ikigai." She couldn't hold back.

"Since earlier. What do you mean I lie?" He held his hand out asking her to place hers over his. But she shook her head in refusal, so he held her hand and placed it on his own, holding it there.

"You say you don't know Elpida, the artist. But no ordinary person can identify his work. So either you know him... or..." He slid his thumb over the tips of her fingers, feeling their roughness caused by making sculptures for years. "Or?" He looked up from her fingers and replied proudly. "You are Elpida."

At that moment she knew some secrets of hers will stay here with him even when she was gone.