I sit at the table, contemplating the photograph in my hands - the photo of a beautiful red-headed boy, with wondrous emerald-green eyes. I examine his smiling face carefully, studying it - and remember.
I didn't see it at first, and when I did - I didn't know what to do. What could I do? Tell him straight-out that I was his mother? His youko mother? How would he react to that?
I do not know - but I fear it greatly. That fear has kept me silent for so many years - almost his entire lifetime! His human one, at least...
I knew the moment I first looked into his bright green eyes that he would be a special child. Knowing this I kept an especially careful watch over him during his early years. Humans could be so fragile during childhood; I had had this thoroughly ingrained over the course of my two previous human incarnations. I lost children in both those lives... I had been somewhat resigned to the possibility of losing him - but when I realized how special he was, when I realized just who he was...
My son. He was my son, the son of my true youko self. It had been half a millenium since I had last seen him, and to discover him here in the Ningenkai! It had taken me a long time to adjust to the true nature of his soul. I had never dreamed of seeing him again since that day, the day when -
I left the Makai for a reason. I could not face what lay in waiting for me there, so I simply up and fled into the Ningenkai, leaving my son behind me. I should have taken him with me, I know that now; but in those days I had little idea of what the humans know of as 'family'. My own youko parents were distant figures that have faded to vague memories of strong hands and sharp voices...
I wonder what he remembers of me? Does he remember me? I shudder at the thought, but I cannot shake it off. After all, I could barely identify him - it would only be fitting punishment that he remember nothing of me. Yet every day, every time I see him, I am chastised by his mere presence.
He has grown to be such a considerate, sweet, good-natured young man. I sometimes feel like bursting with pride that he is my son - and then I remember our previous lives, and what they could have been like had I only loved him more.
If I had only known then what I know now: the wisdom of age. But I am luckier by far than most: for I have had a second chance to watch my son learn and grow. And this time I believe that he is happy. This does not relieve my guilt, however. I have only to recall the sullen, bratish child he had been during those early years for my heart to start to ache.
What had he been through to make him so suspicious and uncaring that it was apparent in his personality despite being unable to recall his youkai nature? At least, I don't believe that he knew just what he was until he was nine or ten... I know that I did not remember my youko life until I reached puberty, in all three of my human forms - but he was always a precocious child...
The thought makes me catch my breath. I can remember becoming quite angry with him for his endless curiosity and questions. I scolded him instead of encouraging him, and hurt him... I was a very bad mother.
I shouldn't have been a mother. I was too young, too inexperienced in the ways of the world, too selfish to be able to take care of something that needed so much from me... But I was a mother. I could have killed his father for that, except for the slight problem that he was so much stronger than I. If I'd had more courage, perhaps I would have tried. Perhaps then he would have killed me outright instead of abandoning me, leaving me to face a slow death in a hostile land. I don't know.
I do know that if he had, I would never have known my son in that lifetime, and hence would not have known him in this one. I believe that what I have suffered through is more than sufficiently compensated by the knowledge that he is my son.
But what about him? Is what he suffered through compensated by having me as a mother? It wasn't, I know. I can see the echoes of pain that darken his eyes from time to time when he thinks that no-one else is looking... And it's all my fault.
I have so much that I must make up for - abandoning him to his fate while I saved my own pathetic soul, forcing him to learn how to survive in such a harsh world as the Makai with no touch of love to soothe his heart... I fear I will never be able to offset my past wrongs - but I must try. I will try until I have nothing left to give -
"Kaasan?" A gentle voice interrupts my thoughts. His voice.
I look up into his concerned eyes, and smile for him. He smiles back, lighting up his face, but his slight anxiety is still evident in his eyes.
I repress a sigh.
"I'm fine, Shuuichi-chan," I assure him.
He gazes at me a moment longer before relaxing, touching my hand lightly. I am still holding the photograph of him.
"You've grown up so fast," I tell him.
"I will always be your son, Kaasan." His eyes are filled with love - his love for me...
Tears gather in the corners of my eyes.
Indeed. Always my son.
Shuuichi.
Kurama.
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