Kekkaishi is not owned by me but rather by Yellow Tanabe!

I would like to apologize for my long absence, but writer's block is not helped by preparing for AP exams or by deaths and births in the family. But I'm back and I will do my best to finish Forbidden. Thank you to tykimikk97 and the many others who helped push me through my writers block!

Yoshimori dropped the clothes in his hands.

*"What's wrong Yoshi?"* asked Kara.

There in his doorway of his apartment stood a person he had not expected to see ever again.

"M-mom what are you doing here? How did you find me?"

She stood at the doorway for a minute before quickly walking towards him. There appeared to be no emotion in her guarded brown eyes as she stared at him. From his perch outside the window Masamori's slightly inebriated mind took awhile to process that the woman that had abandoned their family and disappeared was standing in his brother's living room. He had to resist the urge to jump through that window to stand between his Yoshi and that woman all the while demanding answers from her. Wait MY Yoshi? He looked back at the scene in the room as a sigh escaped her lips.

"Yoshi I'm glad to see that you are well. I had heard from your father that you had run away. I also heard from a reliable source that you ran away because of your brother."

Masamori stilled at hearing these words. Yoshi did you really run because of me?

Yoshimori froze and looked at her in shock. Kara how does she know that?

She closed her eyes and said with a hesitant voice, "I'm glad that I found you before you disappeared again. There is something you should know; I think you are ready to know the truth."

Yoshimori looked at her warily, why would the mother that basically abandoned him and his brothers stand in front of him saying things about truths? He shifted as she moved to sit on his comfortable green couch. She rearranged her purple kimono as she sat and seemed to fidget for a few moments before settling down. She looked up, her brown eyes looked into Yoshimori's confused brown eyes.

"Yoshi did you ever why Masamori did not inherit the Houin mark when usually the eldest child becomes the heir?"

At her words both Yoshimori and the hidden Masamori inhaled sharply their attention caught. Sumiko clutched her lower abdomen, a bitter smile dancing across her usually controlled face; her eyes looking at something no one else could see.

"Your father and I had been married for a few months; your Grandfather," she spat out venomously, "was pressuring us for an heir. When I finally got pregnant he refused to let me go to a hospital despite your father's protests. I could not even go for check-ups like a pregnant woman should. I did not want my child to be born with complications at the house and risk him dying because we did something wrong. So when I went into labor I started walking to the nearest clinic while your father distracted your Grandfather. I could here the him yelling while Shuji calmly talked back to him as I walked out of the property. That was the most painful walk in my life, I was scared I would lose my child on the half mile trek to the clinic. I vaguely remember stumbling down the street in the evening, using buildings to propel and support myself. The contractions were coming more frequently, more sharper."

She paused for a second as tears came to her eyes as painful memories flooded her. Both Yoshimori and Masamori looked in shock at the woman that they had always seen as cold and emotionless. Sumiko snapped back into focus after a few minutes of soundlessly sobbing, and wiped the small droplets daintily with the corner of her kimono.

"The pain became so strong that I had to stop and catch my breath in a shallow alley. I was perhaps two blocks from the clinic when I felt something slide painfully from my body. I hesitantly looked down and saw the tiny, shriveled, blue body of the baby that had been in my womb."

Yoshimori looked astonished at her words. How could the baby have been dead, Masamori is still alive and as far I know she had him the same year as their marriage? *"Yoshi what if the baby wasn't Masamori?"* Yoshimori's thoughts jolted at Kara's words, but before he could comment his mother started talking.

"Apparently my child had died in my womb long before I had gone into labor. I could have known sooner and perhaps done something if your Grandfather had only let me see a doctor when we had first conceived. But it is a moot point now, you and Toshimori were born fine three years later without my having to go to a hospital."

Before she could continue Yoshimori burst out what had been haunting his mind as she told her story.

"Wait! I thought Masamori was born on that day. Dad told me a story similar to the one you are telling me, but the baby you gave birth to and brought home was Masamori! Are you trying to tell me that Masamori is not my brother!"

She gave him a small, sad smile and nodded minutely.

" I sat in that filthy little alley holding my dead baby for a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I felt like my world was collapsing all around me. The only reason I moved at all was that I heard a baby cry. At first I thought it was the ghost of my baby, but then I realized that it was coming from a shop's doorsteps. There laying in a hand woven basket was a sleeping baby wrapped in a homespun woolen blanket. I carefully disposed of the body of my baby and took the baby I had found in the alley. That baby was Masamori."
The room was quiet for a long awkward moment. Sumiko stood up and went towards Yoshimori and gently placed her hands on his face.

"When I heard that you had run away because your Grandfather had denounced you for being a homosexual and in love with your brother, I knew I had to tell you the truth." She paused and let a small smile grace her elegant features. "Yoshi it's okay to love Masamori he is not your brother."

They both turned, bodies already set for a fight, when they heard the squeak of someone stepping into the living room. Yoshimori paled and Sumiko smiled as they both took in the sight of Masamori stepping in through the window, a serious look on his face.