The TV was on, and we were watching something. I wasn't paying attention, though. I hadn't heard a word. Instead, my mind was off somewhere else.

A time before, images of myself with my violin, playing and being happy. In my apartment, playing the entirety of Daphnis et Chloe by Ravel. The whole thing is so fantastical and world weaving. So easy to get lost in. I was lost in it now.

Back then, there was no one to hear me practice. I'd get lost for hours, my eyes closed, practicing pieces I already knew by heart. Some say there's no use practicing things you already know. That you're not expanding as an artist. But, I disagree. There's pleasure in playing things you love. It can encourage you to carry on.

Often, my days off would be on the weekends. I'd therefore spend all Saturday standing in my living room, not paying any mind to my music stand which had sheet music on it. I'd sway gently back and forth, playing my favorites by heart.

I can't begin to describe what music means to me. It saves my life again and again. It solves everything for me. I could despair until the end of the world, and there music would be to save me again at the world's last breath. Every time I get sad about my illness, my violin is there to take me away. I can sing a song or play a melody. I can get out a pencil and paper and write a variation or adaptation of a piece and forget. I can challenge myself, and by the end I can't remember what I was sad about.

The only time this didn't work was when Annie passed away. I lost all desire to play music. Instead of the urge to pick up my violin, there was just an "I don't want to. What's the point?" That's when I knew I was in serious trouble, but I had no way to stop it. I was out of control, and what I did was out of my hands.

All of these thoughts swirl together. The history of my violin and I. I've been playing since I was three years old. My mom insisted. It was part of introducing culture me at a young age. She would go on to attempt to teach me French, which I refused to pick up no matter how much I was forced, which was infuriating to her. One of the only pieces of "culture" I held on to was the violin.

The violin became my source of escape in my strict world. I could do whatever I wanted on it. I could express myself in ways that were discouraged in my house. Instead of yelling and screaming, I played Night on Bald Mountain. Instead of crying, I played Poveri Fiori from Adriana Lecouvreur. I could be rebellious and play jazz, a genre of music my mother hated. Playing something like Bye Bye Blackbird would make my mother furious, but there was nothing she could do, because I was surrounding myself in "culture", which was technically still doing what she wanted.

Secretly, I think my father enjoyed my violin playing. He was quite fond of jazz himself, and I think this is part of the reason why I grew to love it. My father and I didn't have a bad relationship, but he wasn't around much. He was very involved with the business side of my family, and we were in Hawaii in order to try to set up a home base of the company there. He was always away attempting to do this, and I didn't blame him. However, it meant my mother had free reign of the house and could do with it what she wished. That part of it was terrible.

My youngest sister, Nadeshiko, and I would get the worst of it. Nadeshiko looked like a perfect little doll. For this reason, she was the jewel of my mother's eye and my mother was the most harsh with her for it to make her as perfect as her looks. I, on the other hand, was the most rebellious daughter and would get the bad end of a stick a lot, also. Due to these punishments, we banded together the most.

Out of seven siblings, only four of us were still home. We were in a sense part of second generation of siblings in our family. Three of them are at least ten years older than me. For Nadeshiko, the gap is even worse. She's six years younger than I am. We couldn't relate to our older siblings much at all. I was the oldest still at home, and like a second mother to my younger siblings. However, I wasn't afforded such a nice thing. I wish I'd had a kind older sibling to take that role. Instead, I was forced to grow up very fast. Whenever one of them would receive a punishment, I was there to pet them and hug them, to make them feel better. In a way, it made me feel better, too. But, it just wasn't enough.

Often, Nadeshiko would be in my room listening to me play. We had a tutor who would come in the afternoons, and we'd hide from her in my room. I had a way to wedge the door closed so the tutor couldn't come in. In this way, my violin playing became Nadeshiko's escape, too. She wasn't good at her studies, and the tutor only made her feel bad. I was glad to provide a way for her to not have to deal with her. We claimed she was studying in my room and I was observing her, and that would please my mother just enough to get her off our backs.

I admit, I do often think of my siblings, especially Nadeshiko. I wonder how she's doing, if she's married, if she has children, what she grew up to be. I left when she was still thirteen. I know in my heart that she can't hate me. Maybe our three other siblings don't hate me, either. How can they hate the person who basically raised them? But, I wouldn't be surprised if they did. Family does not automatically mean love, and I know that better than most. But, the idea of Nadeshiko in particular hating me? That's hard to believe. However, people grow up and change. She might be a completely different person now, no longer innocent like in childhood. Who knows who she could be now.

Still, another memory filled my head. A time long ago, of us being defiant and going home ourselves. I'd borrowed a bicycle from a classmate, and she was riding on the back where a basket is supposed to go. We were having the time of our lives. I'd picked her up from her elementary school, and she thought her sister was so cool. We rode all around our hometown, and stopped in a gas station for snacks, which was forbidden for us. Snacks were deemed unnecessary, something that would cause us to gain weight and was unbearably childish even though we were children. I bought her some M&M's, her favorite, and I'd bought myself a Snickers bar. We sat on the curb outside eating our chocolate in the afternoon sun, just enjoying being alive.

The rest of the afternoon, I'd felt unbearably tired. I didn't know why. I thought maybe I was coming down with the flu. Nadeshiko stayed with me, trying to do her math problems. I was no math genius, either, so I encouraged her as she attempted a page from her workbook. When my mother found out what we'd done (I'd left the bicycle propped up against our fence in the front), she was furious. She yelled at us that snacks weren't good for us, and that a person only needed three square meals per day and that was the end of it. Nadeshiko's allowance got taken away for a month, but I never got any allowance again.

Thinking back on it now, maybe the no snacks policy was for my benefit. It's easy to see that my getting sick after eating that Snickers bar was a result of high blood sugar. In that way, maybe my mother was protecting me. It's difficult to think of her that way. And then, not having an allowance again ensured that I couldn't ever buy chocolate without her knowledge.

I was her most rebellious daughter, but also the only child of hers who was sick. My rebellion must have been utterly terrifying for her.

I was stuck in this shocking realization when Tetsu kissed my neck from behind. His arms squeezed my middle in our sitting up position, and I gasped, brought back to the present. My head drifted to the right, allowing him to kiss me more. My eyes closed in the beauty of his lips. He kissed me gently for many minutes, and I was so relaxed that I didn't know which way was up.

This was my reality. No need to dwell in the past.

His hands swam up to my chest, holding me there. I breathed in, my mouth parting in adoring him. He was my family, and that was enough. I didn't need anyone else. He gave me all the love I was missing with one kiss. Just his very movements were my everything.

He was kissing my ear, when he began to speak, and he had my full attention.

"I need to get up, but do you need anything? Do you want a snack?"

A snack. How strange to ask this when I'd just been thinking about that subject in my daydream.

"I could go for a snack. What did you have in mind?"

He gave a little, adorable chuckle into my ear. It made me smile, too. "Maybe... Hmm..."

"Hmm?" I copied him. He was being too cute.

"I was going to say cheese and crackers, but I realized as I was about to say it that you can't have those because of the dairy. I was trying to think of a snack you can have for a while, but I couldn't think of anything. I was drawing a blank. I thought I finally had it, but no. Hmm. What to do?"

Aww. I knew just the solution, though. "I love you for thinking of me. Is there a snack that you want? We don't have to eat the same thing. I could have nuts or something."

"I love you, too. But, hmm... I want to eat the same thing as you. I thought maybe we could share and it would be romantic."

He was really being too cute now. A blush was rising on my cheeks. "Hmm... How about some kind of chips? I usually tolerate that pretty well if I pace myself."

"Really?" He pressed his cheek to mine, and I melted. My eyes opened really wide, and a big smile bloomed on my face at the suddenness of this.

"R- really," I sighed, so happy.

"What?" He teased, looking at me now. I eyed him from the side and looked at him straight on. "What are you blushing for?" He started laughing, and I burst into giggles. "What?" He asked again, way too cute. "What did I do?"

"You're just being you. Cute as usual."

"Oh, yeah?" He grinned, making me giggle more.

I leaned my head back onto him as he started to tickle my belly and I laughed from deep inside, and he laughed with me. He only tickled me for a few seconds, but ah, it made me feel... It was such happiness that I thought I never knew joy before.

"Oh!" He gasped, his voice so full of elation. "We can have shrimp crackers! You like shrimp! That could be nice. I wonder if they have any in the vending machines here. We could ask our nurse to get them. I wonder if he'd do it?"

"He might. He's pretty nice."

"I'll call him. Hmm. If they don't have shrimp chips, what would you want?" He pressed his cheek to mine once more, and I sighed again, smiling.

"Any chips that aren't sweet. Even regular potato chips are fine."

"Okay. We'll ask him. Hold on." He reached behind us and found the call button.

As he talked to our nurse on the intercom system, I was lost again in my thoughts. Thinking of how different these two situations were, what a difference twenty years can make. My mother, screaming my sister and I about having snacks, and my not realizing the danger. Tetsu, laughing with me and trying to figure out a snack that I can eat. Such different reactions to the same problem. How different would my life have been if my mother had treated me the way Tetsu does? Instead of yelling and causing me to fear, trying to help me understand?

As Tetsu hugged me and told me how he loved me, I wondered about my mother's love and how it could have been so different.