Prose Prompt: Roses
Fandom: YYH
Pairing: Shiori/Shuichi
Description: Shiori Minamino always knew her boy was strange. But she always knew that one day; he would look at her as he did the roses: loved. And she would endure his hate until that day.
There was always something different about him. Her beloved son, the only man who stayed a constant in her life, well, was odd. She could remember observing the quirks of her son and filing it in her mind as just that: quirks. He didn't cry much as a child, instead he pushed his lip out adorably and seemed to glare with eyes far too aware of their surroundings.
Her precious Shuichi with his unusual rouge red hair and emerald green eyes, which seemed to take everything in that, surrounded him with a wariness that better suited a war-grizzled veteran from the World Wars. She remembered their faces from her own childhood: paranoid eyes, scarred features, and a jumpiness that came from fending for your life at the slightest provocation. Her not so bouncing boy watched the world past him as if expecting it to raise its hand at him in punishment. And the knowledge of this now made itself painfully aware in the cockles of her heart. It squeezed, gripping harshly as if she had caused the pain herself, for her own child, so beautiful, seemed to hate the world around it, including her. No matter how she catered to the strange child's whims: making special treats, always having clothes ready after bath, indulging in puzzle toys, and allowing his frequent trips to parks and gardens, at the end of the day he seemed to look at her so hatefully, scornfully. To strangers, it seemed as if she held a polite young child. But she could tell, he was distant, judging and scornful. But it wasn't as if he actually hated the world per say, to be more correct, he hated the persons occupying it. Attempts to make him social made him flinch with revulsion, kisses on the cheeks with barely concealed gags, and acknowledging his name was met with a cold stare that would make her freeze mid-step.
As he grew, he showed such promise, such aptitude. And with the fevor of an American Soccer Mom, she escorted him to every library in which he would devour, to every museum in which he observed with large solemn eyes, and to every garden, at which she would seem a gleam of his true self. As he walked through trailing wisteria, bunched lilacs, flourishing peonies and as he made his way to the roses, a shy but glowing smile overtook his normally taciturn face; his demeanor relaxed and he reached to stroke the silkened petals. For as cold as he seemed, these days would bring her a bit closer, just within reach, of his true character.
Shiori knew in her heart that someday somehow, her precious son would turn to her with that smile. If she knew how, she would go through hell to receive that smile. And now looking back, she knew even if she could have stopped her almost death, she wouldn't, for the results, to see her son smiling, made everything worth it. For in order to ever see her beautiful boy smile, she would have to almost die. And almost die, she did. She lay gasping for heavy breath, struggling to look at her son. A son that for so long looked at her so scornfully and now full of painful regret, with such sweetness. It was humbling, to see she could induce such scorn and now such painful love. The painful love she was familiar with experiencing towards her late husband. As her breathe slowed, eyes closing with an unknown weight, she felt a desperate plea, a prayer, echo in her body. She wished to see her baby smile. And from a slumbered half-dead state on the verge of meeting Kami, she awoke like a fairy tale princess. She awoke to see a quivering boy, with a painfully shy smile that held her heart so tight.
"Welcome Home, Mother." And for the first time, she felt sincerity and warmth in those words. Her strange son, who hated her so, now held her close to his heart. She would cherish that thought and with every fiber of her being, she would be sure he kept and nurtured those feelings.
"Glad to be home, Son." For Shiori Minamino loved her precious son, Shuichi Minamino. And no matter what her boy, to be man, would be cherished.