A/N - This is going to be a series of separate oneshots focused on each character's relationship to their mother, and thankfully I was able to get at least one done to post on Mother's Day.
I think we should kick this off by giving Lady Star a moment in the spotlight, because in this whole archive, I have seen literally only three fics that even feature Black Star's mother, and I thought she should get some focus.
~0~
"I made a promise to revenge his soul in time
I'll make them bleed down at my feet
I held you tight to me, you slipped away
You promised to return to me, and I believed."
- The Promise, Within Temptation
~0~
He was late.
Leaning with crossed arms on the narrow sill of the tiny front window, she stared out through the clear glass at the pine forest stretching out between the mountains. Nothing moved save for the branches in the breeze, the sun sank ever lower in the darkening sky, and Swift Star felt an unpleasant twist in her gut. Stay in the cabin until we come home, was what he'd asked of her with one foot out the door. This hunt won't take long; we'll return by sunset at the very latest. I'll bring you back some souls. I know Black Star will be safe with you.
White Star was late.
He had never left his lover wondering like this before, and she pushed back image after unwanted image of why he had not come back to her alongside their clanmates. Swift Star prided herself on being a level-headed and logical woman, and the clan had reached the general consensus that she was the most intelligent among them. Her name had not been given only for her rapidly moving body and not her equally quick mind, at any rate. As such, she was not one to jump to conclusions, and until she knew for certain that something had stopped White Star and the rest of the clan from ever coming home, she would continue to believe that this particular group of souls had taken longer to claim than usual and that they would be home just a little bit later than they'd promised. Annoying, yes, but as the saying went, better late than never. As long as she got to see them again, it didn't matter. And she would see them again.
A soft, somewhat drowsy whine from behind her reached her ears and made her turn. Knowing that without her immediate attention the whining would soon become crying, Swift Star left her post at the window and walked into the cabin's other room. As soon as he saw his mother enter, Black Star calmed down and started babbling happily, reaching through the bars of his crib at her.
"Hello, little one," Swift Star cooed fondly. "How's my boy?"
"Mama!" Black Star chirped, and she smiled. Thus far that was the only word the one-year-old had said, and his first utterance of it a couple weeks ago had cost the half of the clan who'd bet that he'd say 'daddy' first fifty dollars each. (White Star hadn't been bothered by it: he had been laughing at and teasing their unfortunate clanmates as he collected his winnings). He kept reaching eagerly up to her. "Mama, Mama..."
"All right, come here, you," she said, lifting her son into her arms. "Daddy's going to be home soon. Can you say that? 'Daddy?'"
"Mama!"
"Mm, next time, perhaps. Come on, we can wait for him together." Swift Star walked back into the other room and sat down on the faded red armchair by the window, settling Black Star on her lap. "Daddy's going to be happy to see us. I don't think your big brothers and sisters are going to take all that much interest in you until you're old enough to start combat training, except to make bets on what weapon you'll be best with or which parent you'll take after more. As if we've got nothing better to do with our money than gamble. But I know your father cares about you more than that. You know, he'd never say it in front of our clanmates or they'd mock him to hell and back, but he told me that we're the best people he has in his life. And I know that must be true: the eight of us are one clan, but you and your father and I are the only ones that are really family."
Black Star, busy pawing at his mother's long blue hair, was happily oblivious to everything she was saying. Swift Star didn't mind: he couldn't understand her words just yet, but she knew he liked the sound of her voice. "So maybe it's me that you like best, is that right, little one?" she asked playfully, running her fingers gently down his cheek. He giggled, and she went on. "It's you that Daddy and I like best. I bet you'll grow up to be strong like both of us."
White Star technically was not a family man. He didn't much care to interact with people in general, and preferred to leave most of their son's care in his partner's hands. (She didn't have a problem with that; she was worlds better at it anyway, and she would make sure that he knew that since she took more responsibility for their child she had more authority over him by right). Even so, there was pride in his eyes and an appreciative smile on his face when he looked at his child, and she knew that he was always imagining Black Star growing up to become just as powerful a warrior as the two of them were. His greatest desire was to attain godlike power through human souls, but having a son in his own image, that could equal him, came in at a close second. This did not worry her either: since the day they had met as young, ambitious teenagers with dreams of power won by the sword, she had been the ice, calm and coldly rational, that tempered the fire in White Star's heart and kept it from burning out of control. If necessary, she was perfectly capable of doing that for her son as well.
"At least until you get older and meet a nice girl," she thought out loud. "Or boy. Or anyone, really, that can be at your side when you're too old to need your mother looking after you all the time."
With that thought, Swift Star wondered if Black Star would ever experience anything like his parents had when they fell for each other, back when there had been no White Star or Swift Star, only Mashiro and Shizuma.
~0~
"He is a prodigy," the village says of Mashiro, when at twelve years old he enters and excels at the Hoshi family business, when at thirteen he collects higher bounties than hunters twice his age, when at seventeen he challenges his father and three older brothers for the position of clan head, and barely twenty minutes later four corpses drop to the dojo floor and for the first time in generations the youngest child leads the Hoshi family and their home village. "He is destined for power."
"She is exceptional," they say of Shizuma, when she learns martial arts forms as easily as she breathes, when she masters the sword at age eight, when she becomes one of the few outsiders chosen to be trained in the Hoshi family's style and to have a chance at joining their ranks, when in their final test all the others fall to Hoshi Mashiro's blade while she is able to fight the young champion to a draw. "She is destined for greatness."
She thinks that that moment is when Mashiro first started to love her. She would never forget the astonishment on his face when he realized that even though she couldn't defeat him, there was no way he could defeat her either. Ever since that fight, he had made a point of seeking her out often, and they had started spending time together daily. With each day that had gone by, she decides, looking back, she had loved him a little bit more.
They never fight to seriously harm each other again, but they spar often, knowing that there's no one else that can give them a proper challenge. This evening they are alone on the back courtyard, and the only sounds are the hum of insects in the grass and the clash of their blades meeting again and again. Usually Mashiro likes to talk during their fights, but tonight he is as quiet as she is, deep in thought even as he fends her off.
"Hey," she breaks the silence, parrying another blow. "This isn't like you. What's on your mind?"
He hesitates a moment, then replies, "Shizuma, do you ever feel like there could be more for us than this? Like there's more we can do and further we can go?"
"Is this a proposal?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.
He smirks. "Not just yet. I mean more as in our position. Our power. Don't you think that this just isn't enough?"
"What do you mean, not enough? You're the strongest person in the village. You fought to become head of the family and won. You practically rule everyone here. What more can you want?" she points out, puzzled.
"I killed my lord father and my brothers because I thought surpassing them and becoming leader would satisfy me," Mashiro says. "It proved that I am stronger than they were, but after two years the novelty has worn off. Managing this backwater village that means nothing to anyone outside it, controlling the bounty hunters from behind the scenes...I wasn't born for this. I need more power. I need to be stronger, better. Do you understand?"
"What exactly did you have in mind?" Shizuma asks, mentally reviewing the situation. Mashiro practically lives for battle, for the rush of victory, and he has seen less and less of the things he craves most over the past two years. She is content, for the most part, but she is the one who gets to carry out missions and bring in bounties, as only a soldier under his command. He must be restless.
"I'm tired of this place. I'm tired of all but a handful of these people. Why don't we just leave the Hoshi family? Just put one of my nephews in power, take our strongest friends, and go out on our own? We wouldn't have to waste our abilities merely catching weak people. We could move up from this, become real hunters."
"...You mean assassins."
"I do. Killing an opponent proves your power so much more completely, I've found, and it pays better to boot. But I don't think even that's quite enough to satisfy me."
"Then why bring it up? What else are you planning?"
His smirk broadens, turning his expression into something vicious and thrilling. "Training and battle are one way to power. But have you ever thought about what it would be like to claim a fallen target's soul?"
Shizuma's breath catches and her eyes widen at the idea, and Mashiro strikes again, turning his ninjato and holding them in a blade lock. Especially since her katana is so much bigger, it's a stupid move in the practical sense: your opponent could easily slide their own blade down and slice off a couple fingers, or go in low and knock you off your feet. But Mashiro trusts Shizuma not to do that, and anyway he's not trying to beat her with the move. He leans closer to her, so their faces are mere inches away. "We could transform ourselves into beings greater than humans. Something like gods. No one could ever be stronger than us. Isn't that something you'd want?"
Shizuma takes a moment to consider the idea. Her entire life in this village, with the Hoshi family, has been a perpetual contest of strength, a battle to stay on top in a world of other warriors just as hungry for power as she. To live is to fight and to win, to keep winning no matter what else you do. What Mashiro has in mind would essentially be achieving a warrior's ultimate goal: gaining superior power no matter the cost.
Mashiro withdraws his sword, and steps back to give her space. Shizuma looks her lover up and down: nineteen years old and gives the impression of being much older from his experience, a head taller than her, tan-skinned and well-muscled, his white hair carefully combed into spikes above his angular face. He carries himself like a royal, and he practically exudes power and confidence. This is a person, she thinks, that any self-respecting warrior would want to follow.
"Takano Shizuma..." he says, his smirk turning to a self-assured smile. "I want you to be by my side." One corner of his mouth is still curved up as he looks at her with knowing eyes, as if he has no doubt that she will agree. And he should not doubt. Their places have been beside each other since the day they met.
"Then that's where I'll stay, if you keep your word. Make us powerful, Mashiro."
And as she had hoped, the warrior's word is good. Only a couple weeks after that conversation, she and Mashiro have convinced five of their comrades to leave the village (with the eldest of Mashiro's brothers' surviving children hastily shoved into his abandoned position as leader) and follow the way of the assassin with them. They shed their family names and take on new ones representative of the new division of the clan they have created: White Star, Swift Star, Silver Star, Morning Star, Evening Star, Lucky Star (all of them laugh at Kichirou for that choice, but he insists), and Shooting Star.
Over the next ten years, everything happens as White Star predicted. They kill whoever they're hired to, amassing wealth and collecting precious souls, reveling in the abilities these souls give them. They lust after blood and victory and power, power, power, that will ensure that they will never be defeated.
For Swift Star, their constant pursuit of these things comes to mean more than just winning, which, although it unfailingly send a rush of euphoria through her ever-strengthening soul each time, has become more of a secondary goal in her life. The clan has become her whole life, White Star and their clanmates the only people who matter to her. It is no longer for herself, but for them that she fights, kills, and consumes soul after soul to increase her power. The stronger she is, she reasons, the better suited she is to protect them all, and make defeat an absolute impossibility.
~0~
"And now to protect you," she said softly to Black Star, looking intently into her son's face.
His hair was like hers, but those bright green eyes were all White Star's. She moved her fingers from his cheek to his right arm, tracing the outline of the star tattoo on his shoulder that marks him as theirs. She would rather have had it done when he was much older (she had nearly decapitated Morning Star and Evening Star when she'd returned from a solo mission to find that the twins had done it themselves while she was gone, knowing she would object, and had had to be physically held down by White Star while the two fled), but, well, it wouldn't be worth the pain and extra effort to remove it now.
She was adamant, however, that he not begin to consume souls for his own transformation until he was much older. To learn how to fight and kill early on would be a necessity for the life they live, but none of them knew whether souls would have a different, possibly not quite as positive, effect on someone who is not fully developed yet, even if that someone was born of two Kishin eggs. White Star didn't quite seem to understand her concerns, but still supported her, and was content to wait patiently until the day that the two of them could take their son on his first true soul hunt. (Not that he wouldn't jump at the chance if she were to suddenly change her mind, however, she thought wryly.)
"We're going to make you strong, little one," she said again. "Just like Mama and Daddy."
Swift Star lifted her head and looked out the window again, at the sky darkening deeper and deeper blue as the sun set fully. Her clanmates really were starting to worry her now...
Right then she spotted movement on one of the nearby mountain paths, and immediately got to her feet, shifting Black Star to her hip as she darted to the window. White Star! Wait...No, that's not...
It only took a second of looking for her to be sure that that person was not White Star, or any of her clanmates. Who, then? Hoping that it was just a wayward hiker who wandered into the vicinity of their temporary home (easily taken care of), she reached with her free hand for the binoculars lying on the end table and focused in on them. Her blood ran cold when she recognized the person approaching them: a young man with cornrowed hair and tattoos of kanji on his arms, holding a combat knife in his hand. The name escaped her, but she had never forgotten this man's face since first seeing him. He had been one of the soldiers sent after them in Shibusen's most recent attempt to eliminate them, and she had been the one who slammed him out of the way before he could stick that knife in Shooting Star's throat.
And most likely, he was the one who had...who had...
"No," she said out loud, coldly and firmly, because she refused to jump to the conclusion that Shibusen has finally bested her clan. Not after all they've done to make themselves invincible. They wouldn't leave her and Black Star alone. "No, there is no way they're gone." She glanced at the child in her arms, who looked back up at his mother with wide, innocent eyes. Her own life meant nothing in comparison to his. "And even if they are, Shibusen won't get you too."
Swift Star turned on her heel and carried her son back into the other room, sitting him gently down in his crib. "I don't like to leave you here," she whispered to him. "But Mama just needs to go take care of one thing, and she'll be back soon."
With that, she tightened the straps holding her katana to her back and slipped out of the cabin, moving as quickly and silently as a mountain lion through the forested slopes. The souls she eats have made her faster and more agile than she could ever have been as a full human, so it was not long before she heard the heavy footsteps of the meister - Sid Barrett, that's his name, she remembered - nearby, and immediately she darted up into the nearest tree, climbing until she was completely obscured by the leaves and the shadows and could still keep a good vantage point. Judging from his position, he would be coming relatively close to her.
Rule of assassination number one: Blend into the darkness. Control your breathing. And wait for your target to let his guard down.
Slowly, she drew her katana out of its sheath, and waited a minute for Barrett to get close. As she predicted, he started to pass by her tree, right under her branch. She could see tension in his muscles, and she watched his eyes flick from one tree to another, knowing that she could be hiding behind any of them. As if she would be so amateurish. He was cautious, but not cautious enough. A pity he wouldn't think to look up.
Rule of assassination number three: Strike your target before he notices you.
As Barrett passed directly beneath her, Swift Star pounced, swinging her blade directly at the meister's bare neck. However, this was not to be as simple a kill as she had thought: his reflexes were better than she had given him credit for, and he whipped around and knocked away her sword with his knife, leaping back out of range of the long blade. Both of them, wary of attacking again straightaway, assumed defensive stances. Barrett smirked, and said, "You thought that'd be real easy, didn't you...Swift Star, is it?"
"I had hoped so, yes," she replied, eyes narrowing. "Now, where is the rest of my clan? I was expecting them back by now, you see, and I'm rather annoyed that they've kept me waiting this long."
"Someone as smart as you should have guessed by now. The Star Clan is finished; all that's left of it is you."
She refused to let any emotion show on her face, nor to let her hands shake, but she felt as if something has been suddenly and violently torn out of her, leaving only a ragged scrap of what she is. White Star...Her clanmates...Every single one of them...Dead? She couldn't deny it any longer, but it seemed that it couldn't possibly be true. She had just seen them, been with them, only a few hours ago! How could they be gone now?
"Though I probably shouldn't say that you're all that's left of the clan," Barrett was going on. "Don't think that we didn't notice White Star's right hand lady suddenly not joining in any of the attacks for nine months a year ago, and that even after you started showing up again at least you stayed behind more often than not. It doesn't take an idiot to figure out what that could mean." He was watching her carefully for any reaction, any sign at all that he was right. Well, she wasn't giving him any. "You're protecting White Star's child, aren't you?"
This damned meister daring to talk about her son had snapped Swift Star right back into focus, and white-hot fury was roiling in her gut in place of shock. Calm. Cold. Controlled, she reminded herself. I am protecting my child. With that thought spurring her on, she charged at Barrett - no way was she going to let him finish what he'd started. As they clashed, over and over, she had to admit she was surprised and rather impressed at his ability to keep up with her. Most of the people she targeted were dropped to the ground with their throats or chests slashed open and souls stolen before they even realized she was there. Then again, this is likely the man who killed White Star, she reminded herself bitterly. Who knows if you'll be able to best him? Their fight went on for a minute more, neither warrior able to lay more than a scratch on the other, before Barrett dodged again and then suddenly dropped out of sight.
Startled and confused, Swift Star looked down to see a hole at her feet where the meister had been. No, not just a hole, she realized - a tunnel of some sort. Leading, she saw as she looked closer, right up the slope and towards the cabin. A stab of terror ran through her, and she bolted straight back up, faster than she had ever moved in her life. The thought occurred to her that Barrett could be bluffing, knowing that the mother wouldn't stray far from her baby and hoping that she would lead him to him. But it didn't matter whether he was or not: Shibusen would not let the remnants of the Star Clan live, so anything was better than taking the chance that a meister and weapon team could be alone with her son for even a moment.
She was at the cabin in moments that felt far too long to her, just in time to see the door close. No!
Putting on an extra burst of speed, Swift Star rushed up to the door, leapt forward and kicked the thing off its hinges, and swung hard. Both the door and her sword just barely missed Barrett, and the crash elicited a loud, frightened wail from the child in the other room. "Well, if I didn't know your kid was here before, I sure do now," Barrett remarked as he moved back away from the doorway and the furious assassin positioning herself between him and her son, and his weapon snapped at him not to make her any angrier.
Too late. A red haze was filling Swift Star's vision, and she gripped her katana tighter to resist the impulse to drop it and tear her opponent apart with her bare hands. "Who cares?" she snarled, her rage mounting, growing stronger than her prized discipline and self-control. "You took White Star. You took my clan. You won't take my son too!"
She darted forward again, more determined than ever to destroy this man. The sooner he died, the sooner she would be able to take Black Star and get the hell out of here, to somewhere Shibusen would never find them. As she bore down on Barrett (it was a testament to his skill as a meister that he could keep fending her off with only a knife the size of his hand), she caught split-second glimpses of herself in his eyes. Her own eyes were stretched wide and fiery, and the bright golden mark of the Star Clan burned over the gray irises. Her katana was moving so fiercely and wildly that it was a blur in the air, and her sharpening teeth were bared like an angry wolf's. The sight almost made her laugh: she had been slowly turning herself into a Kishin for years, but this was only one of a few times that she truly looked a demon.
Coldly rational's gone straight out the window, then, has it? snickered a little voice at the back of her mind.
Perhaps, she answered herself, but rationality has no power in the face of a parent's protective instinct.
Since childhood, victory had always been both a necessity and a certainty in Swift Star's life. Over time she had just come to expect to win, especially as her power grew, and battles became less and less of a challenge and the possibility that she could lose shrunk lower and lower. So when she swung ferociously once more, for what she meant to be the final time, what happened was not at all what she had anticipated. Before her katana could reach his throat, Barrett ducked and went in low, leaving her no time to block or evade him before he buried his knife into her stomach and slashed upward, to her sternum. A cry of shock had barely left her mouth before he slammed a solid uppercut into her jaw with his other hand, and then a kick into her gut that sent her sprawling on the floor, her sword falling with a clatter.
She tried to scramble back to her feet - she must have suffered worse than this before, she told herself firmly, she had to move - but Barrett was fast. He kicked her sword away and brought his boot down hard on her knee, snapping the bone. Swift Star cried out again, still struggling to get back up, but adrenaline and fury were not enough to carry her through this time. The pain burned through her whole body, forcing her back down into the rapidly expanding pool of her blood, immobilizing her.
"Sid? Are you going to finish her?"
"She's already done. You can transform back."
Though Swift Star's body was weakening and her vision was starting to go fuzzy, she could still summon the strength to lift her head, but she could not do any more than that as she watched the weapon walking into the next room, towards her still-howling son. A wordless shriek of horror escaped her, and she tried unsuccessfully to lunge forward, barely moving an inch even as her heart seemed to be pounding at a hundred miles an hour. Before she could do anything else, Barrett was kneeling next to her, obscuring her vision.
"Easy, easy," he murmured, as if calming a wounded animal. "It's okay, we're not going to hurt him. Not at all."
"Wh...What?" she heard herself saying.
"Nygus and I aren't going to kill an innocent little kid for the sins of his parents," Barrett explained. "That's not the kind of people we are."
As she processed her words, her terror lessened, but her confusion remained. "If...If not...Then what?"
"We won't abandon him. We'll take care of him ourselves. You don't need to worry about him, Swift Star."
She stared incredulously at the meister, still trying to get this through her head, which was growing steadily lighter and hazier. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and with considerable effort she twisted around to look, Barrett moving out of her way. The weapon had rejoined them, cradling Black Star in her arms and talking soothingly to the baby. "Shh, shh, little one. It's all right, it's all right..."
He likes to be called that, Swift Star thought. He likes to be held that way. The assassin knew better than to think that she was going to be leaving this place alive. White was creeping in at the edges of her vision, and it was agony to even keep breathing now. But, she was vaguely surprised to realize, that didn't bother her as much as it had before. Her life was over, but her son would survive. And that was all that really mattered to her any more. Even so, there was still one final thing she needed to do.
"H-Hey..." she whispered, trying to focus on the weapon, to move her right hand and motion to herself. "H...Here...P-Please..." The weapon looked from her, to Black Star, and back to her, then stepped forward and knelt on the floor beside Swift Star, adjusting her hold on the child so his mother could see him better.
"Black...Star..." she breathed, reaching shakily up to lay gentle, bloodied fingertips on her son's cheek. He was too young to realize what was happening, she knew, and too young to remember any of it either. He wouldn't remember anything of her or White Star or their clan. Not how his mother had loved him more than anyone else, how she had died trying to protect him. He would grow up hating her. But as long as he got to grow up at all, that was all right. If she had to die now, then at least she would die looking at her sweet, precious child, and saying what she wanted the most for him now.
"Be...st-stronger...than...us..."
She could feel herself slipping, and then all of a sudden whiteness filled her vision completely. There were the odd sensations of falling, and of weightlessness. A memory floated into her mind: White Star, his sword streaked red and a satisfied grin lighting his face after they had won their first souls. It was the first time she could remember that he had looked at her and she had seen pure affection and pride in his eyes.
Swift Star...I'm glad you were by my side.
She felt a smile start to curve her lips, even as oblivion claimed her. I'm glad too.
~0~
Almost the instant the last word was out of her mouth, with one last ragged breath Swift Star went limp, dropping back down to the floor with a thump. Her soul, red and swollen with dozens of stolen others, materialized and floated above her chest. "Ah...Nygus?" Sid asked hesitantly, gesturing to it. "Do you want to...?"
"Eat her soul while I'm holding her kid?" Nygus finished, raising an eyebrow at him as she wiped the traces of Swift Star's blood from her son's face. "That's just a little too messed up, don't you think?"
"I suppose so. Later, then." Sid bent down, took the soul and slipped it into one of his jacket pockets. He turned his full attention to the baby in his weapon's arms, looking at him with interest, then glanced back down at the fallen assassin. This wasn't the place to stand around talking; he gestured to Nygus to follow him and they walked out of the cabin, starting back to where their teammates were waiting. "She said his name was Black Star, right?"
"Yeah. You really meant what you said about us taking care of him from now on."
It wasn't a question. "I did. Not to rope you into it or anything, though...If you don't want - "
"None of that, Sid," Nygus cut him off, smiling. "I'm your partner, I'm in this as much as you are. Besides, I'm not entirely sure you can handle this without help."
"Hey!" Sid protested, but he was smiling too. "Thanks for the vote of confidence!"
"Well, it's not exactly going to be easy. But I think we can handle it together, so long as we have help." The smile started to fade from her face. "My main concern is how everyone's going to handle this. Do you really think they'll let us take him? Our mission was to eliminate the entire Star Clan."
"There's no way Shinigami-sama could tell us to kill him too; he's still so young. And we can't just throw away the opportunity to raise him right, away from the influence of his clan."
"Exactly." Nygus gave Black Star's single tuft of blue hair a gentle stroke, and he giggled. He didn't seem to mind being handled by strangers as much as a kid his age probably ought to, Sid observed; in fact, it seemed like he enjoyed the attention. "He deserves that chance, at least. We can raise him right, can't we?"
"Yeah..." Sid grinned at the smiling little boy looking interestedly back and forth between them. "Yeah, I bet we can."
~0~
Eleven years later...
For once, Black Star's expression was flat, his eyes contemplative. "So that's how it happened, then?"
"That's how it happened." Personally, Sid was surprised it took this long for him to ask that particular question. He'd known for a long time that his clan was dead, why they had been killed, and that his adoptive parents had been the ones that killed his biological ones. But it was only now that Black Star had approached him and asked, uncharacteristically hesitant, what exactly he and Nygus had done that day, and what his birth parents had been like. "Do you feel any differently about them, Black Star? Or about us? It's okay if you do, you know."
A moment of silence passed, and then Black Star shook his head. "Nah. My old man and old lady had it coming, for killing all those people. And if they were as strong as you say they were, then you and Nygus are even more awesome for being able to kick both their asses, right?" he added, smirking.
"I guess you could say that." Sid couldn't resist a small smile of his own. "You know, Nygus really liked the Mother's Day present you got her. Though I have no idea where you managed to find a bouquet of pink carnations that freaking huge."
Black Star stands up, his familiar overconfidence returning. "Of course I found some. A big man like me has got to be the one to give the best and biggest gifts! Okay, I'm going to get back to training now. Can't slack off, after all." He paused, then said, "Hey, Sid...Thanks for telling me all that. I'm glad I heard it from you."
"No problem."
Usually before beginning training, Black Star would go up to the rack of practice weapons and take a few minutes to consider all of them, deciding which to train with today (because "The great me can't limit himself to just one weapon, especially now that I've got Tsubaki as my partner!"). But it didn't take too long today. Sid watched as he reached for a ninjato, then thought better of it and retracted his hand, perhaps picturing that same weapon in his father's hand. Instead he took a katana and, not going back on this choice, stepped into the empty court and began going over his favorite forms.
Sid found it interesting and fairly reassuring to know that, at least for today, he was favoring his mother's weapon of choice. While he tried as best he could not to connect Black Star, who was undeniably his own man, to his long-gone family, sometimes the boy bore an uncanny resemblance to boasting, power-hungry White Star, who Sid had been more than happy to finish off. But now, watching his adoptive son wield the sword as smoothly and easily as he would use an extra limb, with an unusually thoughtful and serious look in his eyes, Sid thought he could see something of what Swift Star must once have been. She had seemed the most human of the pre-Kishin clan, after all.
Sid thought that if she could see Black Star now, she would be happy to see him rising above the sins of his clan. It looked as if her son was fulfilling his mother's last request to him after all.
~0~