A/N: There's a serious lack of Mito fics, so for the hell of it I wrote one.

Laundry was hardly enough to distract Mito from the unearthly quiet that seemed to haunt her residence in Gon's absence, but nevertheless it was a convenient and necessary task that kept her woes somewhat at bay. The repetitive folding motions found it almost impossible for her thankfully preoccupied arms to clutch herself and weep helplessly to no one. She sighed as her rounds led her to Gon's bedroom, as she still made a point to wash his unused bedding weekly, whether simply out of routine or perhaps to find a reasonable excuse to enter his quarters.

There were moments when she felt pangs of agony that physically hindered her, stabbing inside her chest and ribs. She would seat herself at his bedside, glancing up hopelessly at the picture of the two of them together (taken at a town event when Gon had only just turned four), and erupt into a vicious cycle of hiccuped heaving and lonely tears.

…Then she would remember that Gon was not dead, only absent… and she would dry her tears neatly into her cotton shirt and go about her business as usual.

The first time she had cried so fervently had been so very many years ago, when Ging had departed for the Hunter Exam. In truth she hardly remembered Ging beyond small bits and pieces- like a half missing puzzle- here and there; having repressed them purposely to spare her the torment that reliving these memories caused. Though she would never stoop low enough to grieve for her sense of losing him now, back then it had been all too real to deny.

She had loved Ging once; loved every moment she could spend in close proximity to him. What had begun as an innocent, childhood need for recreation had soon become preoccupation and obsession; Ging would play with her. Ging would not ignore her. Yet even as she had finally found comfort in the knowledge that hiding in the forest would always bring Ging to her, still there was something he wanted far more than her simple but ever devoted company… and he left her easily to pursue it.

When he returned many years later, babe in arms, Mito was stunned. All the terrible feelings of betrayal and loss she had so solemnly suppressed resurfaced in an instant at the mere sight of him. Love and hate; two sides of the same coin… and Mito had not dared to flip it leisurely from the time she had found the side that gave her reprieve for her feelings of worthlessness and abandonment. She hated Ging; had spent years despising him for everything that was and wasn't his fault.

…And here he was, in front of her.

Before she could stop herself, Mito was already projecting the emotions she had all but refused to face onto the baby. After all, the baby was vulnerable and innocent, and Ging (with his selfish commitment to simply chase his desires) could only abandon the child and its actual needs for love and affection.

It was better this way, she'd decided immediately. Gon would not know about him; he never needed to know. She couldn't save herself, but indeed she could save him.

"Never come back here!" she spat through tears, although Ging had already calmly turned his back and retraced several of his paces toward the shoreline.

Much to both her relief and dismay, he never did.

'Everything would have been fine if Gon had never known about you…'

She had put nearly twelve years of time and energy into protecting Gon; trying to erase Ging's existence and influence. The older the boy grew, the more he began to remind her of the childhood playmate she had almost once had. Still, if his appearance was the only thing to mirror his negligent father, perhaps all would have been well. Instead, he too had the desire to chase his whims… at least she liked to consider them such… and become a Hunter.

She was emotionally destroyed the day that he had met her impossible condition, and once again she was abandoned by some extension of Ging, despite her best efforts to prevent it. Was she simply doomed from the start to have ever believed that Ging's very blood could be diluted?

She closed her eyes and smiled through the layer of moisture that had formed. The difference was that she could not hate Gon, even just in words. No matter how selfish she could be and had been to match Ging, to defend herself, she would always want the best for…

…both of her boys.