Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: set directly after 'Much Ado About Nothing.'
"Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world, a mother's love is not"
-James Joyce "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man"
"Mrs. Minamino!"
Shiori and Shuichi both stopped as a young woman in her twenties bounced up to them. It took a second for Shiori to recognize her.
"Maya," she said, smiling. "Good to see you. I didn't know you were in Tokyo."
"Yeah, I came up for school." The girl turned her bright smile on her son. "Hi, Shuichi. How are you?"
"I'm doing well, Maya; thank you," Shuichi said, ever polite. "How are you?"
"Good, good. Um, a bunch of us are meeting for dinner. Would you like to come? Oh, and you're invited too, Mrs. Minamino."
"That's so sweet," Shiori said. "But we have plans. Shuichi needed some help with seating arrangements and I couldn't pass up a chance to visit my baby."
"Mother." Shuichi gave a bashful, little grin but it was as fake as Maya's hair color. This dance was familiar to both of them. A girl would fawn, he would try to be nice, and Shiori would be the gushing, so-proud mother begging for more time with her perfect son, surely they would understand. Sometimes it was true. More times, it was just fun.
"Oh, don't be like that," Shiori chided. "You can't leave all the wedding craziness to Botan; that's not fair."
"Wedding?" Maya's smile froze and her voice cracked just a little. "Whose wedding?"
"Why, Shuichi's, of course."
The girl squeaked and Shiori lovingly brushed some hair out of Shuichi's face.
"Can't believe my baby's all grown up," she said. "And he's found such a sweet girl."
"Yes, Mother." Shuichi tilted his head away, just enough to look exasperated, and nodded to Maya. "Good to see you, Maya."
"Y-you too…"
They left the girl in a daze, Shiori making it about twenty feet down the sidewalk before she giggled into her son's arm.
"I am a horrible person," she said.
"You did seem to enjoy that."
"Oh, it gets worse. Did I tell you about Mrs. Adachi?"
"The woman from down the street?"
"That's the one. She cornered me at the market the other day, going on about her granddaughter—can't remember her name. Ami? Mori?"
"I think it was Jin."
Shiori waved her other hand.
"She asked about you," she said. "And I know what she was trying to do, they're all doing it now, so I started bragging about you. Just got back from Europe, had this beautiful apartment in Tokyo, respected attorney for the district court, and every sentence, her smile just got bigger and bigger."
By now, they'd reached his apartment building and she waited until they were in the elevator before continuing.
"Well, she'd been so condescending, kept interjecting, and finally, I'd had enough. 'Oh, and he's getting married this year.' The look on her face!" She put a hand over her heart. "Priceless."
Shuichi laughed, green eyes dancing with mischief, and hugged her with one arm.
"You enjoy having that to use against them?" he asked.
"Don't you?"
"A little more than I should, I think." He let them into his apartment and locked the door behind them. "Can I get you some tea?"
"That would be lovely, thank you, dear." Shiori draped her jacket over a nearby chair at the bar and looked around. Sleek and modern, Shuichi's apartment—penthouse, really—was tastefully but minimally decorated with black, white, and grey furniture. The grey-black floors were bare save for a large white rug under the living room set. It was fluffy and she let herself rub her toes in it as she looked at the large, floor to ceiling windows that filled up two of the walls.
Here and there, artwork, antique weapons, and sculptures dotted the walls while everywhere else, in front of the windows especially, held plants. Ferns and flowers and vines she couldn't name covered the balcony outside and seemed to pour through the glass into the living space. It was beautiful and ordered and so very Shuichi.
"Here you are," Shuichi said, setting a mug of steaming tea on the granite bar. She would kill for that kitchen and she idly wondered if she'd taught him enough recipes.
"Thank you, sweetheart." Hmm. No reason to tempt fate with that rug. She sat at the bar and sipped her tea while he fixed his own.
"Did you really need my help with seating arrangements?" she asked.
"I always value your opinion, Mother."
"And in twenty-six years, have you ever been able to lie to me?"
He smiled and held up his hand.
"I think Botan is getting a little stressed," he said. "I've offered to just plan the wedding myself but she wants our family to know she made an effort for them."
"Anyone who's close to you knows that and if anyone else is coming, they're only there for the food."
"Yes, and I told her that." He sat next to her at the bar and stirred some honey into his tea. "But she's a bit stubborn."
Shiori raised an eyebrow at him and he smirked.
"I'm going to win," he said. "I just wanted your input."
"There's my boy." She took a sip of her tea, a delicious blend she didn't quite recognize. "Before we get to that…there's something I wanted to tell you."
"All right. Do I need to look at something else while you tell me?"
The question made her grin. It was something she'd started years ago. Her baby had always been such a smart boy but emotions seemed to confound him sometimes. Her solution was to offer him a slight buffer, occupying herself with laundry or dinner and letting him avoid eye-contact. He'd grown out of that need for the most part but sometimes, he still needed to do something with his hands.
"Why don't you make lunch?" she asked. Nodding, he kissed her cheek and went around the bar to the kitchen proper. She watched him for a few minutes, his sure movements efficient yet graceful. He'd always been like that.
"I was thinking the other day," she said at last. "About the day I found out I was pregnant. Takumi had only been gone a couple weeks. It was…hard. But my friends wanted so badly to help. They threw this huge baby shower, invited half the block it seemed. They wanted so much for it to be a happy time."
Her stomach twisted and she looked down at her mug.
"The night after the shower, I was getting ready for bed. That was usually around the time I felt the most movement. But that night…" She took a breath, blinking up at the lights. "I couldn't feel anything. I stayed awake all night. I played music. I walked around. Nothing. That was Saturday. Sunday morning, I called Su-Lin and she took me to the ER. At first, the nurse just kind of brushed me off but when I told her how far along I was, they got me in pretty quickly. Did the ultra-sound and…the baby's heart had stopped beating."
Clearing her throat, Shiori discreetly wiped her nose and took a sip of her tea.
"They couldn't induce me then," she said. "And they didn't want to jump to conclusions so they called upstairs and made an appointment with my doctor for the next morning. He confirmed it. The umbilical cord had wrapped around the baby's neck but he couldn't take him out until Wednesday. Su-Lin was beside herself but I couldn't…I just felt numb. I didn't get angry until she put me to bed. I'd already lost my husband. Why? Why this too? I was so mad at God, myself, everything."
She looked over to see Shuichi standing perfectly still by the far counter, staring at the cabinet. His face was far too blank, the mask she'd seen so many times over the years, and her stomach twisted again. She forced a smile.
"Then," she said. "Tuesday afternoon, at three-thirty-one, I felt my baby move. I thought I was crazy. I yelled for Su-Lin—she'd stayed with me the whole time. I remember us sitting there in the dark, hands on my stomach, just willing you to move again. And you did. You kicked and you squirmed. Su-Lin ran to get the phone and I just broke down. I don't remember the drive to the hospital; I don't remember what the doctor said. I just remember them wheeling me into the operating room. The cord was still wrapped around your neck so they had to do an emergency c-section."
She wiped her eyes as Shuichi very deliberately put down the loaf of bread in his hands and slowly walked to the bar.
"What are you saying, Mother?" His voice was so careful, so tightly controlled, it made her heart ache. She motioned for him to come around to her side and waited until he did so she could take his hands.
"I'm saying," she said. "That you are my miracle. I don't know how you came to me but I know you are my baby. When I was at my very lowest, God gave me you and I love you so, so much."
His hands twitched around hers and the muscles around his eyes tightened. He was grinding his teeth, breathing too slowly.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.
"Because you're my baby. I know there's a lot I don't understand and maybe you'll tell me someday, maybe you won't. But you're still my baby."
Shuichi opened his mouth, closed it, then squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. His silky red hair slid over their hands, shielding his face, and she watched his shoulders jerk and twitch as he tried to compose himself. Shiori held his hands as tight as she could, tears blurring her vision. Her strong, brave boy, always taking care of everything, always with a plan. She'd tried so hard to give him a safe place growing up, her sweet, smart Shuichi. But he still kept so many secrets. And the way he sat right now, the way he choked back some pain she couldn't understand…She bit her lip. Patience. It was always patience.
"—plates." he gasped.
"What?"
"The plates." Shuichi raised his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes still screwed shut. "When you caught me and cut your arms. That was the first time anyone—"
His throat worked and, for several long moments, he just breathed. She waited even though every bone in her body urged her to hug him, hold him like she did when he was little.
Although, come to think of it, he never really let her hold him until that incident with the plates. He'd been ten years old. His first voluntary hug.
"I was a thief," he said. Looking at her, she could see the mask slipping back into place, his voice strengthening, his eye contact steady. "I got cocky, wounded, and I fled to the first available body I could find."
Shiori frowned slightly. That was such a weird thing to say. A dozen questions flew through her mind, all along the lines of 'what?'
What came out was: "That's very 'Chucky,' sweetheart."
Shuichi gaped, green eyes wide, then a small laugh escaped him. He covered his mouth with his hand but when she started laughing, it all fell apart. The giggles felt good though, the kind of laugh that can only come after truly angsty moments.
Now she hugged him and he came willingly, his strong arms wrapping around her. The laughs faded. She still held him, rubbing circles on his back like she used to.
"I love you," she said. "I love you so much. You are my baby. You will always be my baby."
He buried his face in her neck, his shoulders too tight.
"I love you too," he whispered. "I never knew what that was until you. I'm so…sorry."
"For what?" She pulled back and brushed some hair out of his face.
"For everything." His eyes started to water again but he blinked them back. "I used you. Then I hurt you and I kept hurting you and I just…You have to know, everything I've done has been for you."
"Oh, sweetheart." She cupped his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. "I don't want you to live for me. I want you to live for you. You have grown into such a sweet, strong, good man and I am so proud to be your mother. Even when you corrected my math at restaurants and told off the teacher during parent-teacher conferences."
"Yeah," he said, grimacing. "I did do that, didn't I?"
"Every year, every new teacher had to learn. No, I am not doing his homework for him. No, he won't get in trouble for calling you an 'idiot.'"
"I never called anyone an 'idiot.'"
"I'm sorry. 'Booze-addled buffoon.'"
Another laugh, this one a bit more honest. He squeezed her hand.
"I'm…not sure where to go from here," he said.
"That's the beauty of it, sweetheart. Anywhere you want. Just…one more thing."
"Oh, I don't know if I can handle anything else."
She gave him a good-natured swat and he grinned.
"What is it, Mother?"
"Botan." She licked her lips. "If you're marrying her just to make me happy, I want you to call off the wedding."
"Call—no. No, no, no." He took both her hands in his and kissed her fingers. "No, Botan is very real."
"Good. I like her. Now, how about that lunch?" Hopping off the chair, Shiori went into the kitchen to continue the sandwiches Shuichi had started. "What cheeses do you want?"
"Swiss, please." He came to help her. "Turkey or ham?"
"Turkey, please."
"Here you are."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
They shared a grin and finished making the sandwiches in companionable quiet.
"Mother?" Shuichi asked.
"Yes, baby?"
"Do you think, someday, you could forgive me for lying to you?"
Shiori tilted her head, thinking as they went back to the bar and sat down.
"One question first," she said. "All those times you disappeared on a job with Yusuke, did they have anything to do with your being a thief?"
"Loosely." A twitch in the corner of his mouth. "Community service. Parole."
She nodded, taking a bite of her sandwich.
"I found blood on your clothes once," she said. "Do you remember?"
"I do. You were livid."
"That wasn't the only time you got hurt."
"No."
"Did you win?"
"Yes." Shuichi straightened up a little and tossed her a mischievous little smirk. "Believe it or not, I am somewhat of a badass."
"I should think so. I raised a gentleman, not a weakling." She tapped his arm. "And these people won't be trying again, will they?"
"No, ma'am."
"That's my boy."
