A/N: This is a very short story, exploring the life of an older Shizuru. I may add more chapters later on to expand on the Mother/Daughter relationship, but for now, I'll leave you with this.
I hope you enjoy :)
It has been a long day; when I get home you and my mother are waiting for me. With a kiss on the cheek, my mother nods to the stove, signalling the cooked meal and leaves to go to her home. With a squeal, you run to me and give me a tight hug; it's as if we haven't seen each other in a long time, whereas, in reality, it has only been since this morning. I hug you back, as best as I can hug a five year old back when they're hugging me tightly round the legs, and give a laugh. No matter how bad my day has been, you always make life seem more enjoyable.
My child; my beautiful child.
It isn't until you look at me that I feel, simultaneously, a sense of loss and like I've come home. The remaining sunlight, streaming through the kitchen window is shining on your face; the orange glow illuminating the features you inherited from me; your light brown hair is highlighted by tints of copper from the glow; but it's your eyes, your bright green eyes, which seem brighter and more green due to the sun, that make me feel those conflicting emotions. They are your mother's eyes; your other mother, I should say. You never got to know her, my dear Natsumi. You never got to know the other love of my life as she died giving birth to my second love...you.
With a toothy grin, you distract me from my thoughts by dragging me towards the stove. Even at your young age, you worry about whether or not I'm eating or sleeping right. I blame my mother. At first, when you were born, I was so afraid of hating you, that I stayed away. Locked in my room, I would hear your cries or gurgles as my mother and father looked after you in my absence. Slowly, as my tears dried and the weight in my heart lessened, I began to see you as my last link to Natsuki, your mama. I still carry that weight only lost love can leave, but it seems bearable now. My mother worries that, at any moment, that weight will regain its vice like grip, which kept me from your cot, and drown me in its sorrow. But I won't allow it. My love for you keeps me afloat; makes me feel; makes my heart sing with pride.
Never have I loved something so much and so immediately as when I saw you in your cot, looking at me with your mother's eyes.