[ If there is anything that Kasumi Aoi firmly believes, it is that, no matter the years, no matter the trials, no matter her own personal feelings where it concerns her son: she is his mother, will always be his mother, and every step she has taken since she picked herself up from her own fall back in Hikaru Shinta's twenty-seventh cycle, it is done with his best interests at heart.
Theirs is not a perfect relationship, and it is her opinion that any mother who has illusions that such a thing is possible is projecting expectations that are unfair, both to themselves and to their child.
This is why she has kept her silence, even as whispers reached her ears of the events that have transpired in Colina de las Espadas. Even as she feels through the Warden connection that there is a heaviness that he will not speak of, a heartache he cannot voice, and that he is, to put it simply, not as well as those who have not watched him for as long as she ( and a handful few, ) would presume.
( Perhaps -- just... perhaps -- if things were not so complex between them given then and what the years afterwards held for them both, she would have reached out to him the way the other Wardens wish to, out of concern. But then again, she is not that kind of woman. )
So she bides her time, lights the pipe that was given as a gift so very long ago, and turns her gaze out her window towards the rest of Seigi. She does this, even as their leader draws up the psychic walls around him like a thick cloak.
She can wait. The patient know that it is always good to wait.
When that knock comes, she bows her chin and takes a long and satisfying puff to relax herself before she lifts her face towards the direction of her door. Does she really need to say out loud that you may enter? You know her habits as she knows yours. ]
[ He picked up the sound of your heartbeat the moment he was out there, giving him the perfect means to figure out where you are (by the windows where the breeze comes in, lounging back among your favorite pillows, smoking from your favorite pipe one he gave you). It was calm and steady even after you knew that he was coming around. No hitch appears afterward, nor any other tell-tale sign that you're going to move, or invite him in.
Granted, it was not like you would ever call for him to come around, not when you leave this particular door to your chambers open. You'll have to excuse him: he's rather bad at being your son.
So - after taking a deep breath - he's stepping inside, moving towards you, then dropping down on both knees on one of the floor pillows. He then arranges himself properly before you before he bows his head in greeting. You may note that he hasn't met your gaze or looked at your face, not once, since he entered. ]
I'm home.
[ Seigi, in many ways, is your space more than it is his own, and your chambers are most definitely yours to keep. It's only proper that he greets you with respect, in and beyond the fact that these days? You're standing at the helm of his conspiracy a lot more often than usual. ]
[ Her tone is even, but kind. She is also pushing the brazier his way with the practiced, elegant motions of a woman of her experience and station before she holds out the pipe ( hers -- and his, should he wish to smoke from it ) in his direction.
She has been quietly counting down the minutes to his arrival at her door, fully aware that he would not come until his youngest sister was settled and possibly put to bed. It does not take eyes to see the amount of care her son takes with Hotaru Fukuzawa. After all, family has always been important to the Blade King. It is one of the reasons why all of Zangyaku address each other as brothers and sisters, regardless of age or rank.
( She can see his pain through the little things: that averted gaze, even the dip in tone in his voice. If she were another woman Asami Fukuzawa, perhaps she might have chosen instead to reach out and tip up that bowed chin, drawn those violet eyes to hers and asked simply: What is wrong, my son?
But again, she is not that woman. So she offers this instead: ) ]
[ And as she is preparing what will be their communal space, he is shifting, drawing one leg up close to his chest and letting the other relax against the floor. He's taking the type with a quick and appreciate look in her direction, and taking a drag. A long drag, with a notably long exhale.
His shoulders have not relaxed yet, not the way that they normally would after getting a good fix. ]
Yes, she has. [ A wan smile, as he remembers the way she put both of her hands on either side of her face and drew him in so that she could kiss him on the forehead. ] Setsuna is going to stay with her again, at least until I'm back from my Walk.
[ Tohru will be with him, at least in one sense of the word. Celestial Masters have such a convenient range of abilities. ]
[ A pleasant smile, even as she has turned to retrieve the box from which she has been filling her pipe. She will move that his way now, as if nothing is amiss -- because, really? Why would anything be? Your space is your own. If you so choose to retreat, that is your prerogative, as it is Theirs to respect the need for it in turn. ]
Good, [ sitting back now and turning her gaze back out the window. ] A flight as long as the one you both took must have been taxing.
[ There's a small smile on her lips as she watches the flickering of lights in the dark. ]
[ Since your gaze has moved to the windows and the flickering fireflies beyond it, his gaze has turned towards you. He belatedly remembers that he has the pipe, and could certainly afford to take another good drag in a last ditch attempt to settle down.
It doesn't really work, but it did, at least, give him an excuse to look away again before he could wonder, for too long, why you weren't asking him about how he's shut himself off from his Wardens for the moment. You are one of them. You would have felt it.
Maybe he already knows the answer. Even then, though, it doesn't make him any more comfortable. ]
They are. [ Now he's going to reach into his coat for his tablet. ] We need to go over some details, if you're all right with humoring me with some work.
[ He hands your pipe over, and draws the light screens up from the tablet in his hands with a few flicks of his wrist. The more the both of you can view at the same time, the better. It's not like there is an overwhelming amount of ground to cover. He trusts your information network. The things he's going to bring to your attention now are things that he knows you don't monitor so closely, or do not yet know about. ]
I'll need another batch of operatives to participate in the campaign down in South America - the wave I was a part of is pulling out by October 2. That does mean that we'll need to field people who can set bases up for us in the Americas shortly.
[ He pauses there, as he looks over the data. ]
I think that I'll also have to go back to our work in Arcadia again soon. Things are getting out of hand there, just like how they are now on the Prime Material Plane.
[ Grendal coming back. "Old friends" returning.
Those are just the Vigil-related things that have your son this one is dealing with at the moment. There's a lot more where that came from, for entirely different reasons --
[ She nods when it is necessary for her to do so and listens without comment or movement when it is not.
It is easy for her to follow the concerns that weigh on you the most: Zangyaku needs to expand, it is necessary for bases to be set up so that it will be easier in the long run for operatives to cover more ground and proceed where they must and it is impractical to put these things off for much longer. She has fielded some of her own with the request to keep their ears to the ground and anywhere else that is necessary so that information might be harnessed effectively.
( No one, least of all you -- and she knows this without you needing to say it -- want a repeat of what happened to the Assassin a few short months ago. Yes, the clean-up of that region has gone well so far, she has ears and eyes in all the necessary places to confirm this, but still: it is better to err on the side of caution. Resources are only as abundant as they are if one uses them wisely. ) ]
There are blades on standby for whenever you deem it necessary for them to go. [ Many are eager, South America is ripe ground. ] Depending on how quickly the new bases need to be set up, it is possible to double the number of oni-tsukai for this if you so wish.
[ She takes a puff from that pipe and quietly assesses the data you have presented to her. ]
No need, I think. Instead, we might be able to compensate by tapping our Wolfhearts. Some of the other conspiracies aren't nearly as busy as we are... more than a few of them will be idle.
[ Checking the data for South America one last time, then closing the screen with the tips of his fingers. ]
I'll leave the shifts and the scheduling up to you. Make sure to take our arrangements for other continents into consideration.
[ He'd normally do this himself. The only times he leaves it in your hands or the hands of the Myobu and the Searing Wind is when he feels as though the Malice Kings need him to be a King more than they need him to be the Wolf of Zangyaku. ]
[ She is looking down thoughtfully at the pipe, as though she is taking all that you have told her into consideration.
But the truth of the matter is, she finds herself thinking back to the day she told Your Father that there was a life growing inside of her, and to the one agreement that they made not as the lovers they had been, but as the people with the fledgling dream of building a family of their own. The one agreement that she understands, without question, that she has not seen to the letter.
"A proper family. Yes, Our Son must have that."
( She will never speak of this, but she envies Asami Fukuzawa her freedom to see you simply as her boy. As the child you had been, as you possibly always will be, circumstances aside. She is grateful also that Tohru is the kind of man that he is; one who has offered her the same courtesy she offers to both him and another.
It is difficult, you see, to love you as a son ( among other things, as is the case of that one ) and to understand on a visceral level that they have not done as best as they possibly could have, had they been better people. ) ]
It will be done.
[ Another puff now, as she casts a discreet glance towards your face. It is not in her to doubt your decisions, at least where it concerns how you manage and delegate tasks. If it is your wish that she take this out of your hands, she will.
And yet. ] Are there other pressing matters that we need to discuss?
Beyond the fact that I can't tell you when I'll really be available for Zangyaku? No, I don't think so.
[ It might be telling for you, how the "no" is not as certain as he could afford to make it. Words are the first thing that the Blade King starts to lose when things gets difficult, and that loss starts to affect everything else, including his conviction. ]
I need to see to things in the Infernal Realms alongside our in Arcadia. [ Both because of the disturbing news of disappearing souls and because of Estanislao Marisigan III, whom Tohru Fukuzawa has taken to viewing as another one of his sons. ] I also need to be on call for Aidan, and check up on a few leads that we Kings have found with regard to some old acquaintances of ours. [ "Aidan" again. Not "the Voidseeker", not "Clayce". An improvement, that. ] I'm sorry that I have to leave a lot of important things to you.
[ That is said with genuine feeling, so much so that he can't even look up at you. He's busying himself with setting his tablet aside and fetching his cigarette case. ]
[ Nodding again, and growing even more concerned because yes, she is hearing all these important matters, but there is something ( a mother's sixth sense, perhaps, though it is not quite as honed as her other skills ) that is weighing on you and it holds more weight than the responsibilities you readily bear. ]
This is what I am here for.
[ She has managed Zangyaku before, in your absence. She is the Mother of the Wolf for a reason. ]
[ And while he knows that, it's never been easy for him to accept the level of devotion that any of his operatives - "family", "friend", or otherwise - have to him. To his so-called "cause". It's only grown more difficult since dad Tohru Fukuzawa nearly died, and since Seigi was attacked and you were there. ]
Of course. [ Swallowing the small lump of emotion down, lighting up, taking a drag, exhaling. ] I should go after this. Sorry for the disturbing you.
[ Another apology, coupled with how he's still not looking at you. ]
[ Were things only so easy as passing you a bento with a kiss to your cheek before sending you on your way. Or calling you back and reminding you that you are her son, that devotion to your cause and to you as her leader is not mutually exclusive to offering you a place to come and sit and talk.
That before anything else, you are also her child.
Forgive her, Akihiko, if she has not done well by your promise. ]
[ He freezes, and looks up at you before he can stop himself. Can you blame him for being so surprised? It's been years since you've called him that. The last time had been...
...And while he is remembering it, he really doesn't want to remember the day that you called to him back in the 27th, when he was sixteen years old. He had been frightened by the summons, if only because the other ones had ended in broken things, tears, suffocating silence. Even if that meeting had ended with apologies and an almost-normal conversation, watching you - much thinner, eyes clear but sad, smiling at him yet unable to reach out and touch him - had cut deep.
Since that day, you had never called him by the name you had given him. It took him years to stop thinking about why, because doing so drove him a little crazy. ]
I'm all right, Kasumi. [ It's easy to call you "mother" when there's a crowd, somehow. ] I'm just tired.
[ Lies and lies and lies. He should get back out of the habit of telling them, shouldn't he? ]
[ It is terrible that the first thing she thinks of is: Have I failed you that much? She will not say that, of course. She knows your propensity to firmly believe that any failings are mostly your own.
She feels that phantom itch her fingers that long to run through your hair. You had been such a beautiful boy, small as you were, the day they had first held you close under the sun. She has watched you grow from that boy into the man you are now. ]
There are many gradients to the color of smoke. As there are nuances to the words you choose, my son.
[ My son. That should not feel both so foreign and so right on her lips, but it does.
She looks away, fingers cradling that pipe now. ]
Have I ever told you how beautifully crafted this pipe is?
[ And how she numbers it among the few, most precious things she will allow herself to keep. ]
[ There is a particular weight that comes with names and titles, especially among the Wolfborn. More often than not, to be called any one of the names he had owned in previous life cycles feels like a chain wrapping itself tight around his neck and dragging him down, or a tie that keeps him linked to people who will inevitably break and suffer simply because they choose to stand too close to him.
He does not know what to make of that. The fact that you've called him your son again, and there is no one but him to hear it. ]
No, you haven't.
[ He had made that for you for your birthday - the pipe, the box, the initial mix of tobacco, mint leaves and cloves - back in 2012. He had not, however, managed to muster up the courage to deliver the gifts to you himself, much less tell you that it had been something wrought by his own two hands. ]
I'm glad you like it.
[ It's becoming harder for him to speak. He takes another drag from his cigarette in the hopes that it will go some ways towards settling him down, or at least provide a distraction from the ache in his heart. ]
[ She is testing the weight of it now, lifting it up and gauging the balance of it's length between her fingers. She remembers how, upon lifting the lid and seeing the pipe resting on the inner lining, she had found herself at a loss for words.
You craft things with your own hands out of love. The higher the attention to detail, the finer the make, the deeper your affection.
Such is the case with the sword that the Voidseeker rarely carries for the sword is not his weapon. Or the knife that the Seer keeps holds close. She knows of the Daywalker's most favored pocket watch was no doubt pieced together with care, and is it poetic in it's own way, given that sleep takes time from that powerful one.
And even when you cannot build items that would best express the regard you hold those who you keep dear in your heart, there are other ways. The Assassin, after all, is not a man most would imagine would keep another creature closeby on his own walks. And yet that falcon is never far from his side. ]
He would have loved this pipe, your father.
[ It is deliberate, son, the way she uses these words. Names can speak of intimacy, but the right titles do as well. ]
You should take it with you, on one of your visits.
[ She is not brave enough yet to ask if she may join you. She understands what the peace and silence means, when you sit in the company of that marker. ]
[ The words slip out before he can stop himself, just like how he doesn't realize that the mask he's tried to keep on his face has cracked.
His free hand clenches, matching the way his lips press together right before he tries, once again, to smooth himself over with a little bit of nicotine. ]
...You should be the one to go and show it to him, if you want to.
[ He doesn't yet know how you'll take the possibility of him asking you to come with him, so he does not try. ]
[ Perhaps, if it were not so difficult to see the ease by which a mortal woman such as Asami Fukuzawa merely moves around you, the weight over her own heart might be easier to lift.
Smoke and mirrors, facets of a whole, are much easier to manage than straightforward truths.
A proper family. That was the broken dream. ]
I would not know what to tell your father if I went and you were not there beside me.
[ Apologies covering two lifetimes and more are far too trite, Mitsuru. She is the mother she could have been to you. All rivers run towards the sea. Structures may seek to guide it, dams to contain it -- but all stone weathers and the earth erodes given time. ]
[ The relief catches him off-guard, as does your words. It's enough to rob him, for the moment, of any possible reaction that could smooth things over.
Are you sure about this? He can't help but wonder, given how everything between you has the tendency to do nothing but widen the yawning chasm of unspoken words, unresolved issues, actions never taken. And yet. ]
Perhaps, when things are less busy, then...
[ Then.
He still can't bring himself to ask you. He decimated your world just by being born, but there are few other things he would want more than to be able to talk to you properly again, or maybe simply be with you as your son. ]
[ She will puff from that pipe once, her eyes falling again beyond that window. It is the last night of September and tomorrow is another day.
When she turns to you again, she takes your hand in hers and turns it over to study the lines of your palm. Time is a luxury she can afford, where it concerns giving you space. But even luxuries should not be taken for granted.
She will put the pipe between your fingers now, Mitsuru, and then reach for the box of tobacco and set some for you to enjoy.
All rivers return to the sea. And the sea is much like the darkness. As a Warden, she will do well to remember that. ]
in winter, snow falls / a forest draped in ashes
[ She has not done as she promised, Akihiko, but before she is the Mother of the Wolf, she was your beloved, and this boy, is both yours and hers. ]
tomorrow, the sun
[ She must still examine her feelings regarding the possibility and wisdom of Hikaru Shinta returning to the karmic cycle, for that is something that warrants long and careful thought. But for Kasumi Aoi and the child she carried in her womb for nearly a year, the boy she swore to provide for, it is a mother's right to wish her son happiness and not more tears. ]
Where is your smile tonight, Mitsuru? [ It is a mother's right to ask why your eyes are so dim, is it not? ] Will you allow me the honor of an answer before you leave for your walk?
[ He watches you that entire time with a look that only begins to graze the surface of the full extent of his feelings. When you ask, though, there is a smile that comes to his lips. It's the knee-jerk one that comes around when he's feeling very helpless and a lot alone.
The cigarette he was smoking through crumbles to ash with a turn of his fingers. He focuses his attentions, for the moment, on lighting up the pipe in its place. ]
[ Perhaps it is because you have given her this, perhaps it is because the smile you have rewarded her is a smile that wakes the wolf in her, but she is gently reaching over now to stroke your hair, hesitating only to give you a chance to shy away if this is still too soon for you. ]
Begin where it feels right to begin.
[ And if, by any chance, whatever that is needs to be 'seen to' you need only say the word and it will be done. ]
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Theirs is not a perfect relationship, and it is her opinion that any mother who has illusions that such a thing is possible is projecting expectations that are unfair, both to themselves and to their child.
This is why she has kept her silence, even as whispers reached her ears of the events that have transpired in Colina de las Espadas. Even as she feels through the Warden connection that there is a heaviness that he will not speak of, a heartache he cannot voice, and that he is, to put it simply, not as well as those who have not watched him for as long as she ( and a handful few, ) would presume.
( Perhaps -- just... perhaps -- if things were not so complex between them given then and what the years afterwards held for them both, she would have reached out to him the way the other Wardens wish to, out of concern. But then again, she is not that kind of woman. )
So she bides her time, lights the pipe that was given as a gift so very long ago, and turns her gaze out her window towards the rest of Seigi. She does this, even as their leader draws up the psychic walls around him like a thick cloak.
She can wait. The patient know that it is always good to wait.
When that knock comes, she bows her chin and takes a long and satisfying puff to relax herself before she lifts her face towards the direction of her door. Does she really need to say out loud that you may enter? You know her habits as she knows yours. ]
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one he gave you). It was calm and steady even after you knew that he was coming around. No hitch appears afterward, nor any other tell-tale sign that you're going to move, or invite him in.Granted, it was not like you would ever call for him to come around, not when you leave this particular door to your chambers open. You'll have to excuse him: he's rather bad at being your son.
So - after taking a deep breath - he's stepping inside, moving towards you, then dropping down on both knees on one of the floor pillows. He then arranges himself properly before you before he bows his head in greeting. You may note that he hasn't met your gaze or looked at your face, not once, since he entered. ]
I'm home.
[ Seigi, in many ways, is your space more than it is his own, and your chambers are most definitely yours to keep. It's only proper that he greets you with respect, in and beyond the fact that these days? You're standing at the helm of his conspiracy a lot more often than usual. ]
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[ Her tone is even, but kind. She is also pushing the brazier his way with the practiced, elegant motions of a woman of her experience and station before she holds out the pipe ( hers -- and his, should he wish to smoke from it ) in his direction.
She has been quietly counting down the minutes to his arrival at her door, fully aware that he would not come until his youngest sister was settled and possibly put to bed. It does not take eyes to see the amount of care her son takes with Hotaru Fukuzawa. After all, family has always been important to the Blade King. It is one of the reasons why all of Zangyaku address each other as brothers and sisters, regardless of age or rank.
( She can see his pain through the little things: that averted gaze, even the dip in tone in his voice. If she were another woman
Asami Fukuzawa, perhapsshe might have chosen instead to reach out and tip up that bowed chin, drawn those violet eyes to hers and asked simply: What is wrong, my son?But again, she is not that woman. So she offers this instead: ) ]
The little one has been put to bed?
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His shoulders have not relaxed yet, not the way that they normally would after getting a good fix. ]
Yes, she has. [ A wan smile, as he remembers the way she put both of her hands on either side of her face and drew him in so that she could kiss him on the forehead. ] Setsuna is going to stay with her again, at least until I'm back from my Walk.
[ Tohru will be with him, at least in one sense of the word. Celestial Masters have such a convenient range of abilities. ]
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Good, [ sitting back now and turning her gaze back out the window. ] A flight as long as the one you both took must have been taxing.
[ There's a small smile on her lips as she watches the flickering of lights in the dark. ]
The fireflies are beautiful tonight.
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It doesn't really work, but it did, at least, give him an excuse to look away again before he could wonder, for too long, why you weren't asking him about how he's shut himself off from his Wardens for the moment. You are one of them. You would have felt it.
Maybe he already knows the answer. Even then, though, it doesn't make him any more comfortable. ]
They are. [ Now he's going to reach into his coat for his tablet. ] We need to go over some details, if you're all right with humoring me with some work.
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She is also shifting to a position that will allow you to show her whatever it is that you need her to view on that tablet at your leisure. ]
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I'll need another batch of operatives to participate in the campaign down in South America - the wave I was a part of is pulling out by October 2. That does mean that we'll need to field people who can set bases up for us in the Americas shortly.
[ He pauses there, as he looks over the data. ]
I think that I'll also have to go back to our work in Arcadia again soon. Things are getting out of hand there, just like how they are now on the Prime Material Plane.
[ Grendal coming back. "Old friends" returning.
Those are just the Vigil-related things that have
your sonthis one is dealing with at the moment. There's a lot more where that came from, for entirely different reasons ---- or, more specifically, people. ]
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It is easy for her to follow the concerns that weigh on you the most: Zangyaku needs to expand, it is necessary for bases to be set up so that it will be easier in the long run for operatives to cover more ground and proceed where they must and it is impractical to put these things off for much longer. She has fielded some of her own with the request to keep their ears to the ground and anywhere else that is necessary so that information might be harnessed effectively.
( No one, least of all you -- and she knows this without you needing to say it -- want a repeat of what happened to the Assassin a few short months ago. Yes, the clean-up of that region has gone well so far, she has ears and eyes in all the necessary places to confirm this, but still: it is better to err on the side of caution. Resources are only as abundant as they are if one uses them wisely. ) ]
There are blades on standby for whenever you deem it necessary for them to go. [ Many are eager, South America is ripe ground. ] Depending on how quickly the new bases need to be set up, it is possible to double the number of oni-tsukai for this if you so wish.
[ She takes a puff from that pipe and quietly assesses the data you have presented to her. ]
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[ Checking the data for South America one last time, then closing the screen with the tips of his fingers. ]
I'll leave the shifts and the scheduling up to you. Make sure to take our arrangements for other continents into consideration.
[ He'd normally do this himself. The only times he leaves it in your hands or the hands of the Myobu and the Searing Wind is when he feels as though the Malice Kings need him to be a King more than they need him to be the Wolf of Zangyaku. ]
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But the truth of the matter is, she finds herself thinking back to the day she told Your Father that there was a life growing inside of her, and to the one agreement that they made not as the lovers they had been, but as the people with the fledgling dream of building a family of their own. The one agreement that she understands, without question, that she has not seen to the letter.
"A proper family. Yes, Our Son must have that."
( She will never speak of this, but she envies Asami Fukuzawa her freedom to see you simply as her boy. As the child you had been, as you possibly always will be, circumstances aside. She is grateful also that Tohru is the kind of man that he is; one who has offered her the same courtesy she offers to both him and another.
It is difficult, you see, to love you as a son ( among other things, as is the case of that one ) and to understand on a visceral level that they have not done as best as they possibly could have, had they been better people. ) ]
It will be done.
[ Another puff now, as she casts a discreet glance towards your face. It is not in her to doubt your decisions, at least where it concerns how you manage and delegate tasks. If it is your wish that she take this out of your hands, she will.
And yet. ] Are there other pressing matters that we need to discuss?
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[ It might be telling for you, how the "no" is not as certain as he could afford to make it. Words are the first thing that the Blade King starts to lose when things gets difficult, and that loss starts to affect everything else, including his conviction. ]
I need to see to things in the Infernal Realms alongside our in Arcadia. [ Both because of the disturbing news of disappearing souls and because of Estanislao Marisigan III, whom Tohru Fukuzawa has taken to viewing as another one of his sons. ] I also need to be on call for Aidan, and check up on a few leads that we Kings have found with regard to some old acquaintances of ours. [ "Aidan" again. Not "the Voidseeker", not "Clayce". An improvement, that. ] I'm sorry that I have to leave a lot of important things to you.
[ That is said with genuine feeling, so much so that he can't even look up at you. He's busying himself with setting his tablet aside and fetching his cigarette case. ]
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This is what I am here for.
[ She has managed Zangyaku before, in your absence. She is the Mother of the Wolf for a reason. ]
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dadTohru Fukuzawa nearly died, and since Seigi was attackedand you were there. ]Of course. [ Swallowing the small lump of emotion down, lighting up, taking a drag, exhaling. ] I should go after this. Sorry for the disturbing you.
[ Another apology, coupled with how he's still not looking at you. ]
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That before anything else, you are also her child.
Forgive her, Akihiko, if she has not done well by your promise. ]
Mitsuru.
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...And while he is remembering it, he really doesn't want to remember the day that you called to him back in the 27th, when he was sixteen years old. He had been frightened by the summons, if only because the other ones had ended in broken things, tears, suffocating silence. Even if that meeting had ended with apologies and an almost-normal conversation, watching you - much thinner, eyes clear but sad, smiling at him yet unable to reach out and touch him - had cut deep.
Since that day, you had never called him by the name you had given him. It took him years to stop thinking about why, because doing so drove him a little crazy. ]
I'm all right, Kasumi. [ It's easy to call you "mother" when there's a crowd, somehow. ] I'm just tired.
[ Lies and lies and lies. He should get back out of the habit of telling them, shouldn't he? ]
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She feels that phantom itch her fingers that long to run through your hair. You had been such a beautiful boy, small as you were, the day they had first held you close under the sun. She has watched you grow from that boy into the man you are now. ]
There are many gradients to the color of smoke. As there are nuances to the words you choose, my son.
[ My son. That should not feel both so foreign and so right on her lips, but it does.
She looks away, fingers cradling that pipe now. ]
Have I ever told you how beautifully crafted this pipe is?
[ And how she numbers it among the few, most precious things she will allow herself to keep. ]
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He does not know what to make of that. The fact that you've called him your son again, and there is no one but him to hear it. ]
No, you haven't.
[ He had made that for you for your birthday - the pipe, the box, the initial mix of tobacco, mint leaves and cloves - back in 2012. He had not, however, managed to muster up the courage to deliver the gifts to you himself, much less tell you that it had been something wrought by his own two hands. ]
I'm glad you like it.
[ It's becoming harder for him to speak. He takes another drag from his cigarette in the hopes that it will go some ways towards settling him down, or at least provide a distraction from the ache in his heart. ]
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You craft things with your own hands out of love. The higher the attention to detail, the finer the make, the deeper your affection.
Such is the case with the sword that the Voidseeker rarely carries for the sword is not his weapon. Or the knife that the Seer keeps holds close. She knows of the Daywalker's most favored pocket watch was no doubt pieced together with care, and is it poetic in it's own way, given that sleep takes time from that powerful one.
And even when you cannot build items that would best express the regard you hold those who you keep dear in your heart, there are other ways. The Assassin, after all, is not a man most would imagine would keep another creature closeby on his own walks. And yet that falcon is never far from his side. ]
He would have loved this pipe, your father.
[ It is deliberate, son, the way she uses these words. Names can speak of intimacy, but the right titles do as well. ]
You should take it with you, on one of your visits.
[ She is not brave enough yet to ask if she may join you. She understands what the peace and silence means, when you sit in the company of that marker. ]
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[ The words slip out before he can stop himself, just like how he doesn't realize that the mask he's tried to keep on his face has cracked.
His free hand clenches, matching the way his lips press together right before he tries, once again, to smooth himself over with a little bit of nicotine. ]
...You should be the one to go and show it to him, if you want to.
[ He doesn't yet know how you'll take the possibility of him asking you to come with him, so he does not try. ]
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Smoke and mirrors, facets of a whole, are much easier to manage than straightforward truths.
A proper family. That was the broken dream. ]
I would not know what to tell your father if I went and you were not there beside me.
[ Apologies covering two lifetimes and more are far too trite, Mitsuru. She is the mother she could have been to you. All rivers run towards the sea. Structures may seek to guide it, dams to contain it -- but all stone weathers and the earth erodes given time. ]
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Are you sure about this? He can't help but wonder, given how everything between you has the tendency to do nothing but widen the yawning chasm of unspoken words, unresolved issues, actions never taken. And yet. ]
Perhaps, when things are less busy, then...
[ Then.
He still can't bring himself to ask you. He decimated your world just by being born, but there are few other things he would want more than to be able to talk to you properly again, or maybe simply be with you as your son. ]
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When she turns to you again, she takes your hand in hers and turns it over to study the lines of your palm. Time is a luxury she can afford, where it concerns giving you space. But even luxuries should not be taken for granted.
She will put the pipe between your fingers now, Mitsuru, and then reach for the box of tobacco and set some for you to enjoy.
All rivers return to the sea. And the sea is much like the darkness. As a Warden, she will do well to remember that. ]
in winter, snow falls / a forest draped in ashes
[ She has not done as she promised, Akihiko, but before she is the Mother of the Wolf, she was your beloved, and this boy, is both yours and hers. ]
tomorrow, the sun
[ She must still examine her feelings regarding the possibility and wisdom of Hikaru Shinta returning to the karmic cycle, for that is something that warrants long and careful thought. But for Kasumi Aoi and the child she carried in her womb for nearly a year, the boy she swore to provide for, it is a mother's right to wish her son happiness and not more tears. ]
Where is your smile tonight, Mitsuru? [ It is a mother's right to ask why your eyes are so dim, is it not? ] Will you allow me the honor of an answer before you leave for your walk?
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The cigarette he was smoking through crumbles to ash with a turn of his fingers. He focuses his attentions, for the moment, on lighting up the pipe in its place. ]
I don't really know where to start.
[ That's not an evasion. You'd recognize that. ]
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Begin where it feels right to begin.
[ And if, by any chance, whatever that is needs to be 'seen to' you need only say the word and it will be done. ]
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