Every time I get close to catching up, I fall behind again. Oh well, they'll get done. Here's painful Yuuki family memories for the prompt stockings.
When I walked through the front door, the look in Mom's eyes was the same as it had been for Dad and Mamoru – joy weighted by sadness and worry. She walked up and placed her hand to my cheek, her eyes darting over every inch of my face to check for hidden cracks in my smile.
Christmas made it worse. Just like with Dad and Mamoru, I did my best each year to have the week off to visit her, but only a handful of SDF members could vacation during one of our busiest times of the year.
When I finally managed it for the first time, Mom greeted me with tears in her eyes. Just like every year before, all four of our stockings hung against the wall. And just like every year before, my entire body ached to look at them, but I knew it had to be even more painful for Mom to put them up.
Mamoru used to say we shouldn't leave anything of Dad's out, because it was too hard on Mom, but hiding things felt harder. Mamoru's side of our room remained in nearly the exact condition he left it in, and I couldn't imagine not having his stocking beside mine, his name stitched in blue thread at the top.
Usually, my visits meant endless catching up on the happenings of Tabito and Destiny. The holiday reminders sapped our strength, so instead we sat on the couch and leaned against each other. The clocked ticked from its place on the wall in an endless, exhausting rhythm, so our breathing matched time with it. Otherwise, the house stood silent for hours.
"Hey," I whispered when I remembered how to speak. "You remember that time Dad came home for Christmas? I was like five-"
"Six," she corrected softly. Her head rested against my shoulder, her eyes closed. I almost thought she was asleep until she responded.
"He had no idea what to get us," I said. My lips twitched toward a smile. "But he had all those wrapped presents under one arm and the scrawniest dog in the world under the other."
She hummed in soft amusement. "He started to ask us if anyone around town lost a dog, because he found it by the station, but you two thought that muddy little thing was your present. You couldn't hear him over all your thank yous, and then we were stuck with him. I gave your father the meanest look for that." She breathed a laugh as she rubbed the dog's ear between her fingers.
"And the one time Mamoru came home for Christmas, and he came in so late, and it was supposed to be a surprise." A laugh broke from my chest before I could finish, until I was in a giggling fit. Mom reached over and swatted the top of my head.
"I thought it was someone breaking in," she huffed.
"You hit him with a pot," I managed as my wheezing cackles died down. "What were you even doing in the kitchen? It was like two in the morning."
"It was five, and I had to work on a nice breakfast for you." Despite her attempt at a pout, a smile broke through. "He deserved it for trying to sneak up on me."
My voice softened as my gaze wandered back to his name, stitched in blue. "You remember how he used to give you flowers every year? When we were younger, they were the best ones he could find growing outside, but they were always so ugly. Then, when he was away, he sent them in the mail every year."
"And he always got you a toy train," she whispered, "even when you were too old for them, because your father used to give you one."
"And dad would send you flowers every year," I said. So I knew what the smallest wrapped gift was, poking out of my stocking this time instead of having to go through the mail. Just like that vase full of flowers I showed up with now sat in the kitchen where she'd always put them.
Mamoru may have been right, and hiding the past away could have been the best way to heal. But even he never managed to follow through with it, and neither could we. I always felt better to have something there from them, because it meant they weren't really gone.