Broken Branches - Part 2

PART 2: PRIVATE TALK

Baatar sat alone in the dining hall. Though a full platter of food rested in front of him, he spent more time poking it than eating it.

Even now, it was very strange to be eating at his family's table. For that matter, he felt odd being in his family's house once more. The feeling, while not entirely unpleasant, was far from the most comfortable.

As Baatar toyed with his kale, breaking the fresh leaves into increasingly smaller pieces, he heard someone ask, "Is this spot taken?"

With a start, he lifted his head to find Huan standing beside him, holding his own platter and glass. Astonished to see his artistic brother here, of all places, but deciding to take this as a good omen, Baatar nodded and answered softly, "Pull up a seat."

Huan was already settling into the spare chair on Baatar's left side.

"Thanks," the younger boy murmured.

The two boys sat quietly for a while, keeping their eyes fixed mainly on their food. Whenever Baatar stole a sidelong glance, he noticed that Huan didn't have any more appetite than he did today. Huan only ate a few small bites at a time; once in a while he took a sip of his kale nutsco, but the level didn't go down much.

Finally, just to break the awkward silence, Baatar summoned the nerve to ask, "So…how have you been lately, Huan?"

Huan shrugged. "Can't complain. Not too much, anyway."

"How's your art coming along?"

"Fine. Just fine."

Baatar, who was lifting his glass to his lips right then, put it back on the table and gave his brother a funny look. "Just fine? That's something I never thought I would hear you say about your craft."

Huan shrugged again, but said nothing and kept his gaze down.

After another minute or so, Baatar gave a loud sigh and shoved his tray aside. With his eyes closed, he removed his glasses with one hand and lifted the other hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

"Why don't you just say it and get it over with, Huan?" he asked.

Now it was Huan's turn to regard his brother with a queer expression. "Say what?"

"Anything you're thinking about right now. Say that I'm the biggest idiot ever bred in Zaofu, the most awful backstabber in all the world, the absolute worst brother in all of history." Baatar buried his face in his hands. "Whatever it is, let me hear it. Don't hold back and don't bother sprinkling any sugar. Whatever you think of me, Huan, I know I'm all that and so much more besides."

How much time passed without a word in that dining hall, no one could say. It could have been a minute, ten minutes, possibly a half-hour, and no one would have known or cared about the difference.

All that time, Baatar clutched his head and braced himself for what would surely come pouring out of Huan's mouth.

When Huan did speak, he said in a tone as hushed as ever, "You want to know what I really think, Baatar?"

Baatar said nothing, but his shoulders tensed.

"I think it's just great to have you back here again."

Unsure of whether he'd heard correctly, Baatar slowly withdrew his hands and opened his eyes. "Excuse me?"

"I'm glad you're home, Baatar," said Huan, looking his brother straight in the face this time, his voice dropping to an almost inaudible whisper. "I wouldn't have admitted it before…but it hasn't been the same around here without you. Having you back feels like old times. Never realized how much I'd missed those old times, not until now."

Baatar blinked. Half-consciously returning his glasses to their perch, he dared to ask, "You're serious?"

"Do I appear unserious to you?" Huan never turned his head to either side. His gaze remained steady, his expression clear as the cups on the table.

Baatar had a fine time finding his tongue after that, and even then his voice almost failed him again. "After what I did to you? To Mom and Dad? To Opal and the boys? After everything I've done, you actually want me back?"

"Yes."

"But I betrayed you."

"Yes, you did."

"I treated you like a criminal."

"Yes, you did."

"I hurt you, all of you, in about the worst ways imaginable."

"Yes, you did."

"And yet you still consider me your brother?"

Spreading his hands, Huan said, "Brothers fight. They fall apart. They have their share of faults, sometimes more than their fair share. But they're still brothers."

Baatar couldn't recall Huan ever being so profound before, not like this.

As short and simple as the words were, they stirred something in Baatar's core, brought on equal surges of shame and gratitude. A fist-sized lump lodged in the elder's throat, his eyes stung, and he prayed he wouldn't dissolve into a sticky puddle then and there.

Huan continued, "Yeah, I'll be the first to say that you've been a total idiot and a colossal jerk. I won't lie about wanting to strangle you more than once. But I'll also be the first to say how amazing and ingenious you are, and how I couldn't ask for another sibling like you." He emphasized these final words with a mild punch to Baatar's shoulder.

With a small but authentic smile, Baatar lightly punched him back and rejoined, "Says you."

Huan smiled back, a rare smile that really did something for his disparaging countenance. "And I'm never wrong about such things, either."