Fallacy
I'm learning all your tricks,
I can hurt you from inside.
The morning was beginning with a harsh, cold breeze.
Her eyes crept over the words in front of her, her guarded stare running across the details written in smooth, clear characters. The distinctive hand of her son; she had been the first to see him place nib to paper and had encouraged him through his first, clumsy strokes.
She knew him more than he knew himself.
"These are interesting terms," the empress commented lightly, pressing the report to her chest and glancing towards the figure standing before her.
He had remained quiet as she had surveyed the work before her. He had spared little time in the morning before seeking her presence and handing her the report that she had charged him with creating only the night before.
He was dedicated, she would admit, though it was just another layer on his attempted deceit. If there was anything he was truly dedicated to, it was his lies.
He stood rigidly in front of the temple pillars, his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he awaited judgement.
"Take them as you will," Hakuryuu responded tonelessly, letting his words rest in silence for a moment before adding on, "Mother."
Do I bore you, my darling son? The wry thought came to her mind, yet it was no more than a jest. Truly, she gave her boy a gift with her presence; he would never allow himself to lower his guard in front of her again.
Did that not mean she entertained him?
"You're very precise," the empress continued, cooing softly as she ran a thin finger across a single sentence that had caught her eye above the rest. "You spared no detail; you mention names."
Her nail traced across the detail-ridden sentences with an almost musing expression on her face. There was something different about this sentence- no, this word- that separated it from the rest of this deceitful manner her son was composing himself in.
"I've been to Sindria," he answered, still using his dull tone and offering her no change in stance or expression. "I know who we need to ransom."
A giggle left her lips unbidden, though it was to no consequence. The sound likely unnerved him; as she could read him, there were moments where he could do the same. He knew that she had discovered something that he had overlooked.
She had seen this boy learn to write the characters of their language and since he had learnt, he had not stumbled. There was no character that he could not right with elegant precision that made many of the noble court ladies swoon.
Oh, my darling son, you've handed me your head.
"You've done well," the empress praised him, remembering how well her lovely child had glowed when given a kind word or compliment. She placed the document down on the table beside her and nodded in satisfaction. "These are good terms. They'll be sent this morning."
She watched him and noted the disturbance in his stance; he was no longer such a fool, and suspected that something was amiss. Indeed there was, for he had bore his vulnerability to her in his writing.
His perfect, elegant writing.
Did you think I would not notice?
"Very well," Hakuryuu bowed his head dismissively and unclasped his hands from around his back. "I'll take my leave, mother."
He turned around rigidly and made his way towards the open, temple doors- obviously eager to be rid of her.
Your letters were clumsy only here, my darling boy.
"Morgiana…" She slowly quoted the name from the report, her harmonious voice rolling over the word and its unique syllables that sounded foreign to her own tongue.
She was delighted to see him immediately freeze in his movement. He stiffened even further, if that was even possible. From her distance, she could see his fingernails dig into his palms, grating them against his skin.
He had received that habit from her.
"It's an interesting name," the empress continued, relishing in this newfound power over her son. She tilted her head and put on quite the show with frowning in confusion. "It's obviously not Sindrian. It's rather exotic, isn't it?"
He was still for a moment, as if contemplating what his actions would be. She already knew; he would play like his dearly departed father, Hakutoku.
She felt a thrill of victory as he whirled around and clenched his fists tighter against his sides. His expression had barely changed from before, but there was a warning in his eyes; he was telling her not to tread where she was daring to.
Oh, how delightful.
"What does it matter to you?" He asked, his tone suggesting boredom; as though this conversation mattered little to him, when she knew it did.
Who is the fool here, my boy? She thought as she rose to her feet from the thin straw mat and approached him with small steps. He made no motion to back away, and for that, he deserved some level of her respect.
She halted in front of him, surveying him for a moment, before she raised her hands to grasp at his face tenderly.
"You're so very much like your father," she murmured, brushing her finger across his pale skin like she would when he was younger and would accept her embrace. She allowed her nail to scratch ever so slightly against the scarred remains of his burnt skin. "So… transparent."
He did not so much as flinch. Instead, she felt him slowly raise his own hands to grasp at her bared wrists.
It was an interesting movement from him, she would admit that. He had initiated contact with her- something that he had not willingly done in a long time- and it slightly irritated her that she would have to include this new piece in her board. Things had been so perfectly set out for her, a new factor was an annoyance.
He held her in place for a moment; her human fragility testing her nerves and she almost began to think that he was about to attempt another rebellion on her.
I pray you do not think that will work, my darling boy.
But he released her hands in a sudden movement, but maintained eye contact with her long enough so that she would see the narrowed glare in his eyes as he spoke.
"Perhaps."
It was spoken in his flat tone, and the ambiguous word offered her no new leads. It was of no consequence to her; she held more of the strings in this struggle than he could ever hope to, but it was always a lovely thing to gain another.
How rude of you, my dear child, to deny your mother such a treat?
He turned away from her quite suddenly, and made his way towards the doors once more. This was irritating; she understood very easily what he was trying to hide, but he was stubbornly refusing to see that the power was not in his favour. It was clear as day, but she supposed that the foolish could be blind.
If you play this game, at least play it well.
"Hakuryuu," she called out to him as a final note, her voice returning to her soft, harmonious tone despite the ominous words she spoke. "Fragile women have unfortunate fates."
He froze once more, though this time with less conviction. The shock factor was not quite so extreme the second time around, she noted, but it was no less amusing. He was stiff, and for a moment, she again thought that he was going to resort to violence to gain the upper hand.
He was contemplating, she could tell. Had he made a mistake facing her today? What had he done? He was her darling, little, open book, and she could read him at her leisure if she would so desire. He would retaliate, without a doubt.
But as he spoke his last to her, and his tone was blanker, she realised with irritation that she had miscalculated.
"I care nothing for her."
I'm going to make you suffer
This hell you put me in.
In this one-shot, I really wanted to make Haku's mother seen...weird. Like, manipulative weird, but also just plain weird. I hope I managed that!
Lyrics belong to Digital Daggers. I also don't own Magi.
Thanks for reading, please drop a review if you can!