His eyes truly are like amethysts.
In the right light, they sparkle; so unique and startling in such a pale face. And they are as cold as any stone dug out of the earth. At times, they could be similarly lifeless.
He wastes away in the bright, warm sun which never seems to touch him, for all the time he spends wandering up and down the beaches. Or so she's told, anyhow. She rarely has the opportunity to see him. The years of loneliness, of bitterness and neglect have reduced them to little more than roommates, sharing a space and nothing else with each other. She loves him in her own way, and he loves her in his, but neither of them will ever forgive the other for certain thefts.
Maybe she should be ashamed of herself; she has so little time left with him, before fate interferes with her life once again. Any sane mother who knew the end was near would find any reason, any excuse, to be with her only son. A son who will suffer in his life as much as she has in hers.
She can't help but feel, deep within the darkest part of her heart -- the only part of it which is still intact after all these years, the only part left that is truly hers -- that he should.
The princess had warned her of this resentment, long ago, but she had thought herself better than that. She couldn't believe that she could feel anything but the purest love for the boy she would bring into the world he would eventually save.
She'd held onto this arrogance until she'd met Saya.
Nothing in her life would replace losing the one she had loved so completely. Knowing what she did, that Saya would die for her in this grand diorama of fate's design... the knowledge poisoned her heart against Kamui.
His birth took her from her family, from her beloved little sister, from her hometown, from her future... and from her.
Perhaps her distance was what led him to believe all those who are shown love will eventually be hurt by its departure.
Perhaps she'd introduced Kamui to Saya's children out of spite, not knowing that fate in its infinite capacity for cruelty had already given Kamui over to the one who would eventually shatter his heart.
Perhaps her distance was a roundabout way of trying to prevent such a thing from happening. Her one attempt to spit in the face of that which had condemned her to a short life of whirlwind passion and love and a lonely death.
Perhaps...
She doesn't know and probably won't ever.
And she doesn't care.
It won't change a thing.
