Chapter 14 - My Daughter Shizune

At first we thought everything was fine. That she was a normal baby and her disinterest in our voices were nothing but her curiosity with the world around her. Ha. What a naive fool I was to think so when Nagi and I argue so often... and so loudly.

It was something the hospital would have undoubtedly routinely checked for, but my wife was forced to give birth in our home; like all of the important events in her life, Shizune took charge and decided when it was time to act. Her birth was no exception to this. It was by age one, when she had still yet to utter her first words that we began to suspect something was wrong. One quick visit to the doctor confirmed it; she was completely deaf.

We were shocked at first. The two of us have always been absorbed by our careers. We had entrusted a babysitter to care for her in our absence. Some cowardly young girl who looked afraid of her own shadow.  She took care of the her while we worked: Nagi as a fashion designer, and myself as a writer. Neither of us saw much of her as a baby, something that has filled us both deeply with shame. There might not have been anything we could have done to change it, but the fact that it took us such a long time to find out was not acceptable. Dishonorable.

We began making preparations for her future. There was much to do for her over the next few years. We would need to pick a special school for her, help her learn to read and write and, eventually, learn to sign. Whenever Nagi could spare the time, she would speak to Shizune and show her flashcards of simple items.

I remember one such occasion in particular. We were sitting in the parlor late one December night. A log was crackling in the fireplace, its glowing light lighting up her face as she lay cradled in my arms. "Apple..." Nagi would coo to her, holding up one of the cards: a picture of an apple and the kanji for it. "Apple...". She allowed Shizune to study the card for a minute before taking it away. She took several of the cards and spread them out on the floor, and I carefully lowered her onto her feet. In front of her lay several of the flashcards now: a car, a book, a dog... and the apple.

Nagi crouched down to Shizune's level and looked into her eyes. "Okay, Shizune..." She held up another card which simply said "リンゴ".

Apple.

Shizune stared at it inquisitively for a few moments, but that's all Nagi would allow. She moved aside and waited, anticipating what she hoped would happen. Shizune looked out at the cards and then, with the unsteady gait of a toddler, she stumbled her way over to the card.

The one with the apple on it.

She picked it up and proudly held it up for her mother. "Oh thank God..." she sighed. Shizune ran over to her and hugged her leg. Nagi looked over at me and smiled; despite the circumstances, those were the happiest years of our marriage.

*******

Under the counsel of my brother, we decided to send Shizune to a private school for children with special needs. There she would be able to "get her education in an environment that caters to people with unique problems." His words. At first, I was wary.

"How much is this going to cost me?" I asked him during our tour.
"Nothing." he replied, smiling. "It's funded privately by donations from various corporations. In fact, my firm recently donated a hefty sum to two such schools... by the way, how is that novel of yours coming along?" he joked, elbowing me in the side.

"Great..." I muttered, and we continued on.

"What kind of programs do they offer for the deaf?" Nagi asked. Up until now she had been listening intently to Mr. Satou, taking mental notes and analyzing everything he has said thus far. Typical for her.

"Well, in addition to the traditional subjects of mathematics, science and literature, she'll also be taught Japanese Sign Language." He stopped, looking at us both.

"In fact, you two might want to consider that as well: I can't imagine using those silly flashcards to communicate will be very efficient in the future!" he chuckled, sounding much louder than it should have in the empty halls of the school. He turned on his heel and we continued once more.

"He's right, you know." Nagi whispered to me.

I grunted in agreement: he usually was, my brother.

*******

For the next eight years, Shizune excelled in her studies. And for those eight years I kept up with learning sign language. I was slow to learn it, but Shizune took to it naturally. We would sit on the porch together some afternoons and she would sign to me, her little slender fingers dancing around. She'd talk about her day at school, how so-and-so was being immature or how what's-his-name is gross. To be honest, none of it was terribly interesting, but it was nice to speak with her, to know that we could communicate. That it was simply possible to do so.

But in those eight years, my attempts at writing languished. Nobody would publish my works, and I couldn't blame them. They were terrible. Laughable. Fantasy tales of men fighting bears with only their hands; foolish stories from a foolish man. I began to gamble, which I am ashamed to admit. I lost a lot of money that way. More money than I could pay.

People weren't too happy about that.

One night, I lost a particularly large sum of money in a bar in the city. The men expected their money, but I firmly told them that I didn't have that much, and that if they wanted it they would have to wait. They didn't like that idea at all. Three men grabbed me and dragged me into the backroom where they decided on a different form of payment. They broke each of my fingers with a hammer, one by one, in several places and threw me out onto the street. I take pride in the fact that I never once cried out.

I stumbled to the local hospital. My hands were a broken, disgusting mess. Fortunately the doctors were able to repair the worst of the damage. They told me I was lucky: despite everything none of my digits would need to be amputated. That I was lucky that I would only have to deal with "severe osteoarthritis". I didn't feel lucky at all. My hands were constantly hurting, Nagi was furious with me and the medication I would have to take for the rest of my life was going to be terribly expensive in the long run. We had another child on the way, what would become my son, Hideaki... but that is a story for another chapter. With the baby on the way, there was no way I was going to be more of a burden by buying the meds, so I didn't. There was still one single insignificant scrap of honor and I would hold onto it.

*******

When we finally got home from the hospital, Shizune looked at my bandages with wide eyes.

["Daddy, what happened to your hands?"] she signed to me slowly, shocked by my state. It broke my heart when she asked me that. I couldn't answer her.

["Daddy...?"]

Nagi swooped in and signed in my place, a position her and others would take for the rest of my life.

["Sweetie, you father's hands were badly injured today."] she "said" to her delicately. ["He can't sign to you right now..."]

She turned to gaze to me. Her eyes were glazed over with tears. I tried to move my fingers, to tell her it was okay, that it was nothing and I would be fine but the pain was unbearable. Instead of forming words, my face contorted with pain and I frightened her. She ran away to her room, sobbing silently. Nagi followed her upstairs but took one final moment to glance back at me. Her eyes said all the words she would ever need to say about it; pity. Pity and disgust.

So I live with the pain; the constant screams of pain emanating from my fingers every time they move, the inability to speak to my child, my failure as a father and a provider. It fills me with rage. Every time I look at her, into her deep, dark blue eyes I feel the deepest shame imaginable. Not because of her, but because of me, my failure, and the total loss of my honor.