A very short piece about Kurogane and his mother. I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. Spoilers for around chapter ninety-six.
Mother dearest
A mother's love is peace. It need not be acquired. It need not be deserved.
There is a danger in looking back. In desperation, it is easy to warp and distort these memories with false sentimentalism, however he remembers his mother perfectly, as she should be remembered.
He remembers her dark hair and gentle eyes, her sweet singing voice and her firm scolding voice. He remembers her face, though sometimes at night when he dreams, if he dreams of those days long gone, her face seems so far away and untouchable.
Like a porcelain doll she perches upon the very fabric of his dreams, her beauty preserved in his memory, kept safe from Time's claws. Even now, when so many years have passed, the memory has not faded, only been clogged with so many other worries and cares.
He remembers how her body became weak and sick. He remembers worrying, remembers being slightly afraid. It was hard to accept. He did not believe, had not wanted to believe, but he was not ignorant to the whisperings of his mother's maids, how they all looked at him with eyes full of pity and shook their heads when he passed.
She was loosing strength every day.
Yet she was still so strong and selfless. She kept doing her duty as a miko.
If only he had been that strong too, if only he was able to protect her as he had promised.
A sudden crash, a scream, a hand, a strange symbol and a sword.
A demon.
A memory.
Oh yes, he remembers well. He could never forget. He could never forgive himself.
There had been blood, lots of it, and he had been unable to stop each crimson droplet escaping past his hands. His mother's face had been cold. Something wet and salty traced a path down his cheek, born from his eyes, dying on his lips.
The helplessness, the desperation, the feeling of being weak, he remembers that most of all. It was frightening. It was frightening how frightening it was. He never wants to feel so helpless again.
The things that happen in your past shape you to become the special person you are today. The events of his past shaped him into the cold, merciless warrior. Yes, he is cold, he is callous, he only cares about duty and honour.
But he still remembers his mother.