This is my latest one-shot... It's based on my theory of who Yusuke's father is.
I don't own YuYu Hakusho.
Oh, and if anyone was wondering, this fanfiction is based off an idea I got listening to "Does Your Mother Know?" by ABBA. I love ABBA... and the scene from Mamma Mia!: The Movie where they're on the beach singing this song isn't bad either.
So, I'll shut up now and let the fanfiction do the talking! Enjoy "How I Met Your Father"! And review, please!
Yusuke was staring at his desk, or, rather, the envelope on his desk. Keiko had brought it to him.
"They wouldn't say who they were; they just told me to give this to you. They didn't tell me why, or who it was from, either."
They were probably from the FBI. Or secretly from Koenma. Who knew?
Must be top-secret information, though. It had to be. If it wasn't, wouldn't they have told Keiko at least who it was from?
He opened the envelope. Inside was a note and another, smaller envelope, addressed to him.
His heart sank into his stomach. He knew that handwriting. But it couldn't be from her.
She'd died two weeks ago.
He read the small note.
It was one of her last requests that you get this letter. You weren't at her wake or at her funeral, so we came to deliver it to you personally.
So it was from her.
It had been many years since he had talked to his mother – probably twenty or so. He had never thought about contacting her, and she hadn't really tried to contact him.
And when Keiko had told him the news, his exact words had been, "Oh, that's too bad."
He sighed, stood up, and grabbed the other envelope. Opening it, he started to read it as he walked downstairs.
I know what you must think. You must think that I was drunk, or was raped. You must think that I was always a drinker and a partier. I know you must think I smoked and drank every single day I was pregnant with you.
You're wrong, Yusuke.
Let me tell you a story. One last bedtime story. Will you listen for me?
Let me tell you how I met your father.
The lights were low. The energy in the air was almost visible. It sent shockwaves through the air, like lightning.
The music was great – it matched the feel of the room. It was high energy music, with a catchy beat.
As I danced, I looked around. The longer I went without seeing who I was looking for, I began to get worried. I told myself not to be disappointed – that he had better things to do than hang out at parties, that I had come here to have fun, not to see him – but I was easily disappointed at 14. No matter what I told myself, it didn't make any difference.
But then I did see him, in the darkest corner, leaning with his back against the wall. Our eyes met, so I know he saw me, too. He smiled a little.
I bounded over to him. I hadn't thought I would actually see him here, so I was excited. "Hi, Sakyo!"
He chuckled. He must have been laughing at me – must have been laughing because I was acting like an excited puppy. But I didn't care. There was no cruelty in the sound, like he thought how I was acting was... cute.
I told myself not to get my hopes up. The higher my hopes were, the worse it would feel when I was disappointed.
Instead of saying hello when he finished his chuckling, he merely said my name. "Atsuko."
A sense of thrill shot through my veins when he said my name. I liked the way he said it, liked the way it sounded in his voice.
"Isn't this party great?" I asked him, yelling to be heard over the music.
"Wonderful." He rolled his eyes.
I covered my mouth with my hand, starting to giggle. I had thought it was funny, the way he'd rolled his eyes, the sarcastic way he'd said wonderful.
How could anyone not be having fun here?
"Does your mother know that you're here?" he asked me.
"No – of course not!" I was shocked. "Why would I tell her I was coming here?"
Sakyo chuckled again. "Where did you tell her you were, then?"
"I'm studying at Sari's," I answered promptly.
He didn't know who Sari was. I could tell by the look on his face that he was about to ask, but I answered his question before he could.
"Sari's one of my classmates – everyone says they're going over to her place to study when they want to go somewhere."
"And what are you studying?" he asked me now.
That surprised me. I hadn't been expecting that question. A blank look appeared on my face while I thought.
"I don't know," I said finally. "I forgot." He began to chuckle again, and I shrugged. "I'll ask Sari later."
I turned my back to him, to look for her in the crowd. She was dancing with a boy – an older boy I barely recognized. They were near the edge of the crowd, close to us. "That's her," I said, pointing.
As I turned back to face him, a new song began to play. I felt my face light up like it had when I had first seen him in his corner. I knew this song. It was one of my favorites.
I wasn't going to pass this one up.
I grabbed him by the wrist and started tugging him toward the dance floor. "Come on, Sakyo! Let's dance!"
He didn't protest. I led him onto the dance floor, into the middle of the crowd. I let go of him then and began dancing, though I never moved far from him.
It was the best dance of my life. Instinct took over, time lost meaning. It was like my body was on fire – and all I could do was dance.
Most things went unnoticed by me for those two or three minutes. But I did try watching Sakyo. To be honest, he was a terrible dancer.
Well, it was more like he didn't know how to dance. That no one had told him that dancing had no rules – there was no right way, or wrong way, to dance. Had someone told him that, he probably would've been a wonderful dancer.
The song ended and the new song that stared was one that I didn't care for. I walked right up to him and I said, "You don't like to dance."
I could tell that by the look that had been on his face the entire time.
He chuckled again, and I was glad. How much I loved the sound. "No."
"Why are you here, then?"
"I was..." He paused briefly. "Hoping to see you again, Atsuko."
My heart leapt. That was exactly what I had been hoping, ever since the first time – the only other time – we'd met. That he would want to see me again.
I don't remember anything about that other night, really. I saw him standing alone in that corner. Curious, I had gone over to him. And we had talked.
And when I left, I found myself hoping to see him again, thinking I would die if I didn't.
"Me? You came to see me?"
He nodded now, not saying anything. There was a change in his eyes. It wasn't strange, it was just... different. It wasn't a look I'd seen in his eyes before.
It was such a soft look.
My heart was pounding now, like a jackhammer. At any second, it would break through my chest. He must have been able to hear it – I could barely hear my next word over the beating of my blood in my veins.
"Why?" I asked him.
He gently put a lock of my hair behind my ear. He came closer to me, bending down, leaning forward.
And then he told me why.
A few months later, it was pretty clear that I was pregnant. There was no other reason I could be the size, the shape, that I was. I exercised, stayed in shape. I was active. I ate french fries and greasy foods every once in a while, sure, but that wouldn't make a girl that huge.
And being pregnant was hard – I was only 14, though I was 15 when you were born. But overall, it wasn't so bad.
The child I had was Sakyo's.
I thought I should tell him. He deserved to know – he was the father, after all. I told my mother that I was going to Sari's and I went to another party.
Of course, I had my mood swings. It was almost impossible to control my moods. I realized that, with the way I was, I couldn't join in with these parties for the next six months. That thought depressed me so much – I almost lived to dance. I started to cry.
I finally started looking for Sakyo and I found him in his corner.
The tears on my face had dried, but they still clung to the bottoms of my eyes. I walked over to him and said, "Sakyo, I'm pregnant."
He stared at me for a moment. Then he turned and walked away.
"Sakyo!" I yelled after him. I had to tell him, tell him I wasn't mad. I reached out after him. "Sakyo, wait!"
I know he heard me. He had to have. But he just kept walking.
"Sakyo!" I was more frantic now, desperate.
He kept walking. And he never looked back.
I fell to my knees when I could no longer see him, when I knew he wasn't coming back. And then, I started sobbing.
I know what you must think. You must think that I was drunk, or was raped. You must think that I was always a drinker and a partier.
I hope you know now that that wasn't true.
True, I did go to parties. And there was smoking and drinking there, yes. But I didn't smoke, and I didn't drink. I went to parties to hang out with people my age, my friends and classmates, and to dance.
I know you must think I smoked and drank every single day I was pregnant with you. That isn't true, either – I didn't smoke or drink until after you were born.
You spent the first week of your life in a hospital. They were worried, worried about both of us. But after seven days, they decided that we would be fine. And they let us go.
When I got home, all my things were on the front porch. The door was locked. I knew my mother was home, but she ignored my shouting, my banging, and my crying.
There were two other things on the porch for me – a slip of paper and an envelope. On the slip of paper was an address – our home. Though my mother had kicked me out, she hadn't totally abandoned me. In the envelope was some money and a note from my sister, who was 17.
I started drinking, started smoking, as an escape. What else was I supposed to do? I was 15 years old, and trying to raise a child all on my own. I'd been kicked out of my home by my mother. Your father, the only man I'd ever loved, was gone. And you were a boy; one day you, my only link to your father, would leave me, too.
And didn't you?
I can almost hear you now, Yusuke. You can't argue that you never left me, so instead you ask me, How could you have loved him? He was so much older than you!
I honestly don't know what it was about him. But I did love him. I still do, to this very day, even as I'm dying.
And I know he loved me, too. He wasn't lying when he told me that. I know he wasn't.
I wouldn't have given myself up to just anyone, Yusuke. I know you probably think otherwise. But Sakyo is the only – only – man I've ever slept with.
And I know you think I'm the worst mother ever. There's nothing I can say to that. All I hope is that now you understand. I was devastated. I was 15. I had no idea how to raise a child, and I had to do it all on my own.
The only thing I can say is sorry.
I'm sorry I let you down, Yusuke. I'm sorry I was a terrible mother. But I want you to know that I love you, and I always have loved you. Even when I was drunk or bitched at you or threw things at you, I still loved you.
And I wanted you to know that you weren't the result of a one-night-stand. Well, actually, you were, in a way. But I loved your father, Yusuke. Still love him.
There are plenty of things that I regret, but you aren't one of them.
So I'm sorry I wasn't able to do better, Yusuke. I'm so sorry.
And I love you.
- Mom
The letter slipped from Yusuke's fingers and he collapsed into the nearest chair. He sat there for a minute, sort of numb, not quite sure how to feel.
Finally, tears in his eyes, he lifted his head to the ceiling. And he whispered, "I love you, too, Mom."
- Kuramastrass -