storypaint | Lie to Children (Kinomoto Family gen)

Title: Lie to Children
Series: Cardcaptor Sakura
Characters and their Relationship: Kinomoto family (Fujitaka, Nadeshiko (not in this story), Touya, Sakura)
Theme: 2. it's been a while
Rating: G, warning for minor character death
Disclaimer/Claimer: Cardcaptor Sakura belongs to CLAMP.

Summary: At her Great-Grandfather's funeral, Sakura learns who the man really was, and wonders why no one told her.

It's been a long while since I've seen him, and perhaps that's why I didn't recognize him. He was so much bigger from a child's eyes. But the photograph they have at the entrance was a good, clear photo, and I know the face, if not the name, the moment I see it.

But after a moment I recognize him and I turn to my father, wide-eyed. Father nods, clearly anticipating my words, but they slip out anyway.

"Him? Great-Grandfather?"

The first year at the summer house he gave me his granddaughter's old dresses. And I came back with my family every year until I married. I always looked forward to seeing him again, the kind old man who missed his granddaughter very much. And no one had ever told me he was my great-grandfather. I could have helped to fill the void in his heart. I could have smiled at him instead of sending letters. He could have told me stories about my mother, stories that my father doesn't know. And now all those possibilities are gone.

My father looks away and I can tell he feels bad for concealing it, but I remember what Touya and Sonomi told me about Father's break with my mother's family, and I don't say anything more to him. When I was fifteen and insistent, my father sat me down quietly and explained that it would be too hard on my grandfather's heart to meet me now. Or so he had been told. People lie to children too much.

Syaoran squeezes my hand and mouths, "What?" but I shake my head a little. I'll tell him later.

We walk in and there are a few whispers, a few meaningful glances, but Father told me that he and Great-Grandfather had been on better terms the last few years, if not regularly-speaking ones, and our presence here is accepted. We take our seats next to Touya and Yukito. It's been a while since I've seen them as well and I note with alarm the small wrinkles that are growing in the corners of Touya's eyes. He's only 32. He still has time, doesn't he? He avoided the genetic disease that took my mother (and my test results will be back next week, not that I'm thinking about that right now.

"Hey, monster," Touya says, resting his hand on my head for a moment. "How's life with the brat?"

"To-ya," Yuki attempts to protest.

"How old do I have to be before I stop being 'the brat' to you?" my husband asks, rolling his eyes, and I would break up their argument, except that it's just old habit by now and I'm lost in my own thoughts.

I'm trying to fathom the thought that no one told me who he was-- not even him. He saw my eye color, legacy of his granddaughter, and he had to have suspected--

I know that people protected me when I was young, but I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself now.

The fact that I'm crying doesn't lend credence to that idea, but it's true anyway.