Page 50 of Kotori
"Listen carefully, Mizuki-chan. Love multiplies, it doesn't divide.
" My hands frame her face, thumbs wiping away tears with the gentleness I reserve for moments when strength must be balanced with compassion.
"Your mother lives in every kind word you speak, every moment of courage you show, every time you protect what matters to you. "
"But if we accept someone else—"
"We expand the love she gave us. We use her gift to create new bonds that make this family stronger." I hold her gaze steadily, letting her see absolute certainty. "Paige-san doesn't threaten your mother's memory. She honors it by loving the children Akira died to protect."
The logic penetrates slowly, understanding dawning in dark eyes that hold too much pain for someone so young. But grief and reason rarely cooperate, and I can see her struggling with acceptance.
"I'm afraid," she admits in the smallest voice. "Afraid that if I love her too, Mama will disappear completely."
The admission breaks something in my chest. Four years. Four years this child has carried that fear alone, building walls around her heart to preserve what she thought would otherwise be lost.
"Your mother will disappear only if you let fear consume you instead of opening your heart to the gifts she left behind.
" I lean closer, voice dropping to something intimate and certain.
"Akira lives in your intelligence, your strength, your capacity for fierce love.
Denying yourself that capacity doesn't honor her. It wastes her sacrifice."
She's listening now. But understanding and compliance aren't the same thing, and yesterday's disrespect still requires correction.
"Now," I say, releasing her face and settling back into formal position, "we address the immediate problem. You showed cruelty to someone under my protection. You disrupted family harmony through selfish emotional display. You demonstrated weakness that threatens everything this family represents."
Her spine straightens with alarm as my tone shifts from gentle father to commanding authority. The change is deliberate, designed to remind her that understanding her pain doesn't excuse the consequences of her actions.
"In the outside world, such disrespect would carry severe penalties.
Fortunately for you, family discipline allows for education rather than punishment.
" I meet her eyes with implacable certainty.
"You will apologize to Paige-san. Properly, sincerely, with acknowledgment of your mistake and commitment to better behavior. "
"Otou-san—"
"Today. Before the family outing your sisters are planning. You will demonstrate the respect that should have been shown yesterday, and you will participate in family activities with grace that honors your upbringing."
The command is absolute, delivered with quiet authority that makes grown yakuza kneel without hesitation. But Mizuki is my daughter, not my subordinate, and the approach requires adjustment for maximum effectiveness.
"This isn't about forcing you to love someone you're not ready to accept," I continue, allowing gentleness to enter my voice.
"It's about demonstrating the strength your mother died to protect.
The courage to face difficulty with dignity rather than lashing out in pain.
The kind of grace you'll need when you're a wife with children of your own, navigating the complexities that come with our family's position. "
Something flickers across her face at the mention of her future.
The reminder of what awaits her, the expectations that come with being a Matsumoto daughter in this world, settles over her like a weight she's not quite ready to carry.
She considers this carefully, intelligence I'm proud of working through implications that extend far beyond this morning's lesson.
Finally, she nods with reluctant acceptance.
"Hai, Otou-san. I'll apologize."
"Good." I straighten my jacket with the satisfaction of a lesson delivered effectively. "The family leaves for our outing at ten. I expect you ready, appropriately dressed, and prepared to show Paige-san the respect she deserves."
"And if..." She hesitates, uncertainty coloring her voice. "What if I try but still feel angry?"
The question reveals genuine effort to overcome her emotional resistance, which deserves acknowledgment. But it also suggests she still doesn't fully understand that feelings are secondary to behavior in matters of family harmony.
"Feelings are internal, Mizuki-chan. Actions are choices." I move toward the door, pausing to deliver final instruction. "You can feel whatever you need to feel. But you will behave with the honor your mother taught you, or face consequences."
The implicit threat hangs in morning air like incense, gentle but unmistakable. She understands now that yesterday's emotional display was the last indulgence teenage grief will receive.
"Otou-san?" Her voice stops me at the threshold. "Do you think Mama would approve of Paige-san?"
The question hits exactly where I'm most vulnerable: the intersection of love for my lost wife and responsibility for my living family. But the answer comes without hesitation, born from certainty that's grown over months of watching Paige integrate into our lives.
"Your mother wanted above all else for you to be loved, protected, and free to become everything your potential promises." I turn back to face her fully, letting her see complete conviction. "Paige-san offers exactly what Akira dreamed of for you."
She nods slowly, understanding finally beginning to penetrate the defensive walls of grief and fear. Not complete acceptance, that will take time, but acknowledgment that her resistance serves no one, protects nothing, honors no memory worth preserving.
"I'll try," she whispers, and something in her voice, vulnerability mixed with determination, reminds me so strongly of Akira that my chest tightens.
"That's all anyone can ask." I pause at the door. "Your mother's love doesn't disappear when you open your heart to someone new, Mizuki-chan. It grows stronger, brighter, more beautiful than she ever imagined possible."
This morning's lesson achieved its purpose.
Mizuki understands now that disrespect carries consequences, that family harmony takes precedence over individual emotional expression, that her place in this household comes with responsibilities she can't ignore because of grief.
More importantly, she's beginning to understand that accepting new love doesn't require abandoning old loyalties.
That strength sometimes means opening your heart instead of closing it.
That the courage her mother died to protect includes the bravery to let people care for you.