The hands of the clock advance slowly, devouring time and never giving it back. And yet, neither her son nor her mother-in-law is under the roof that shelters them all.
Seconds tick by.
Hikari's gaze wavers between the clock and it's never ending round and the laptop she labouredly placed on her tights.
There, in a document, she copypasted all the information she could find on Greek gods and goddesses, Persephone and her husband being the center of it all.
Persephone, goddess of Spring. Persephone, daughter of Demeter and Zeus, king of gods. Persephone, queen of the realm of the Dead.
Why and how did she find herself in a pot of ashes? Why was she in the urn that bears her name? Why is she in an urn at all? Why does that goddess need her baby boy?
Many questions. More will come.
The Internet offers no answers. It offered none either when she dared to write Sacred Gear into the search engine. She read pages after pages of results depicting cults, fast cars and a worrying number of stories about chuunibyou youths getting into all sorts of shenanigans, Naruto-styled training and an array of women who inexplicably fall in love with a cardboard the authors dare to call a main character. How tasteless.
Hikari scrolls down. Fortunately, the vast majority of the pictures used to represent Persephone are a pleasant surprise. They are agreeable to her aesthetic flair.
The Internet does have a well of interesting pictures and arts about the Greek gods. Hikari would be tempted to foray into that pit if her baby boy's security wasn't on the line.
Realistic and cartoonish fanarts that make her heart pity her own decaying skills will have to wait for another day.
She focuses on older paintings and sculptures instead. Depending on the era and the country, they hide a world of symbolisms and meaning. Scraps of classes she listened to while seeping tea bubble to the surface as her gaze rakes over the images. Hoarse voices and the scent of her favorite ink swirl in her head. The infamous pomegranate seems to be Persephone's most faithful companion in most classic depictions of the goddess.
Pomegranates are symbolic of funerary rituals, beliefs, and death. Considering Hades is the lord of the Dead, its presence is rather understandable. The implied meaning that marriage is a sort of funeral is depressing, however.
Ivy appears by the kidnapped goddess often too. Ivy spray, a symbol of clinging memory. Ivy, a poisonous plant.
On an old vase, black lines form a young Persephone, neck craned into a submissive stance as she faces Hades. The god is offering the fruit that will seal their fate. A notable detail is that Persephone, while her entire body is twisted into a meek position, stares squarely at her future husband, meeting his gaze head on.
Hikari saves the image and deposits it on her document. There's something about this picture that ticks her off, something she can't pinpoint yet.
She rubs her eyes gently. The blue light emitted by the screen does not please them. She reads and reads, but the bright screen and information take a moment to be filtered by her brain into something she can understand.
Her mind is a field after a long winter, covered in snow and ice. The weather is warming, the surface is liquefying, but the core remains cold.
The metaphor makes her twitch. Calendar-wise, spring is still far away. Distance-wise, it is all too close.
Hikari sighs. Numbness creeps along her limbs; she slept for weeks, Issei said. Weeks and weeks of pure comatose sleep, lost between reality and nothingness, gorged by medication and loneliness. Before that, Issei said she was awake. Strangely enough, she remembers better the time she was asleep than the moments where she was supposed to be awake.
The smells, in particular, strike her throat at the worst moments. She can barely breathe when Chiasa does the dishes; the acrid chemicals taste that lingers in her mouth reminds her of a tough bed and torment. She waited. She waited and waited and waited in silence and torpor for something-
And Issei came.
The wait has ended. The things that took ahold of her mind as she sank into madness are not gone.
Her baby boy did not get into the details about her sickness and the tumor in her head. She knows her condition was far worse than what he or her mother-in-law acknowledge. She stood on the line between life and death. The memories are foggy, but she can summon them to the surface if she concentrates on them long enough. Doctors slowly talked about the impossibility of surviving. Social workers talked about foster care for her child. Friends talked about funerals.
Her husband spoke of divorce.
And Issei…. Issei rambled about the way the clouds could never truly hide the sun for its light passed through them anyway. He would go on and on about tiny details, funny stories, strange happenings, everything and anything to animate their cold, desolate apartment.
As of now, Issei barely speaks at all. He watches and mumbles. Where is the child who uses to chatter excitedly about anything and everything? He barely explained how, exactly, he used the miraculous tears of a Devil to heal her or how he got the tears to start with.
("I traded with a Devil. I gave him a Glorygold I found in the Forest in exchange for his tears. They can heal anything, like a Phoenix's tears."
Hikari is torn between wanting to know why the little flower is so precious and how the Devil got himself to cry - did her baby had to say mean things or beat up the Devil to help him cry? That would be beyond terrible. She didn't raise her sunshine to be a mean little thing. That Devil will have to answer for his actions if he put Ise in a bad position or forced him to do evil deeds.)
No, her Ise didn't explain much, but he was so, so tired when he told them about what happened while he was all alone. Questions could wait. His well-being couldn't.
In a way, she knows all she needs to know. His thin lips and deep seated eyes spoke for him.
Stress and sadness left a visible mark on his face.
It's around his nose, creating deep lines when he frowns. It's around his eyes, sunk into their sockets, creating an eternal shadow over his soft caramel gaze.
When he doesn't speak, he spends his time biting his lips and staring at her as if a gust of wind could steal her away from his sight.
No, no, she is not that feeble, darling.
She wiggles her toes. They respond accordingly. She wiggles her fingers. They move, which is good, but they are stiff, which is not the best for painting-
Hikari pushes the thought away with a click on her mouse. Another website broadens her horizons on the quality of digital art and the poor writing skills of obscure bloggers. The Internet is wonderful, but it seems a good chunk of the information repeats itself everywhere while details are hard to find and harder to understand.
She knows Persephone is Hades' wife. She knows she was called Kore before her kidnapping/willing departure from the human realm (sources don't agree on what made her leave her mother's side.). Now, it would be beyond perfect if one website could explain in details what her domains of power are and how they manifest in the real world.
The Internet isn't that convenient, even for a desperate mother in need of answers.
She adds another paragraph on the document about Zeus, Persephone's father. King of the gods and enemy of women folks. The goddess' whole family seems to have interesting relationships with humans. Changing their forsaken lovers into trees, turning young girls and sisters into animals and still having relations with them, splitting humans into two because of fear… the list is growing longer every time she clicks on a new link. How homely.
(She closes the laptop and puts it aside before she books one-way flights for Antarctica. There shouldn't be any gods in these parts, neh…?)
Hikari lets her head fall back into the soft leather of the couch.
Her wheelchair winks at her from the other side of the couch.
She wiggles her toes again.
A devilishly tempting idea makes her squirm on the couch until her two feet are flat against the floor, exactly in the right position for her to make her idea a reality.
Her knees move next. They flex normally. No pain. No stiffness.
Her waist bends forwards in a controlled movement.
Her hand reaches for the coffee table.
Back, waist, knees, feet.
Her muscles and bones move accordingly to her will.
Hayashi Hikari is standing upright.
Well, well, well. That's an interesting development.
She smiles. Time to floor her son.
She peers into darkness through the window of the living room. It gives her a prime view on the desolate land her mother-in-law calls a garden. She surveys the dip where the garden beaten path twists down the hill.
A bag lies by her feet. She toys it with her foot and feels familiar weights. Everything is ready.
The Glorygold shines softly as it dances on her lap. Its glow briefly disappears ever so often. Its gentle warmth seeps through its roots into her, soothing the aches that run through her worn-out muscles. Her body is tired, but she is not. She has one more task to achieve tonight. She tugs her coat's zipper to her chin and smiles.
Freedom of movement is such a precious thing.
She relaxes into her seat and awaits their return. Issei will have a pleasant surprise when he comes back. She can already imagine his caramel eyes widening. He will surely make that little face he always pulls when he is flabbergasted. His mouth hands opens and his visage slackens into something purely silly and adorable-
Her ears pick up their voices before her eyes have the time to acclimate themselves to the night.
Chiasa speaks loudly. She always does.
Issei's voice is almost inaudible. Hikari knows he is with his grandmother because the Hyoudou matriarch hasn't developed dementia yet nor does she usually speak to herself.
Hikari leaves her seat with a light jolt of her knees. She moves slowly towards the entrance of the house, dragging the bag along. She would like to walk faster, but her legs weight her down. Her body refuses to advance faster. She can only flirt with an unknown limit, hoping she will not go too far into overdrive.
(Hope is all she has, beside her son, now. Her son didn't have her when he went through Hell. She can do this.)
The Glorygold warms her hand.
Chiasa muffles a cough.
Hikari puts her head against the cold door and listens.
Chiasa clears her throat. It can only be her who makes such a noise sound threatening. A braided beast clears her throat and it is nothing but a growl. "Don't you think bringing these to the brook could wait? It's dark outside."
Hikari agrees with her mother-in-law. "Your mother is probably worried. She will wait for you and go to sleep late. That's no good. We should go tomorrow."
If it wasn't an excuse to make Issei stay home tonight because Chiasa is clearly worried for him, Hikari would feel touched by the older woman's care. Under her stubborn attempt to sound as emotionless as possible, there is a beating heart and it loves the little boy named Issei-
Scratch that. Hikari is touched.
Her son, sadly, doesn't agree with them.
Her boy shuffles from one foot to the other. She hears the heavy jolts of his boots hitting the frozen ground. He sighs. "I will do it quickly. Don't worry."
That's her cue to act.
She turns the doorknob and pushes the door open.
Light floods a long rectangle of darkness and blinds her favorite duo. They blink in tandem.
Hikari smiles cheerily.
"Are we going now?" she pipes up.
Ise, as predicted, just gapes.
A heartbeat later, he grimaces, between awe and worry. "Mom…"
She crosses her arms. "I have everything we need. A shovel, a lamp and a backpack. You forgot yours to get the plants."
Issei closes his mouth with a smack. "I don't think-"
Hikari points at his nose. "I'm not letting my son meet a goddess alone again. You're way past your curfew anyway. I'm coming or there are no more trips tonight for you."
Her son glances at his paternal grandmother. Chiasa glances back.
Her mother-in-law eyes her clothes. Finally, she shrugs. "She is ready. Might as well go together and be done it with it already."
Issei glowers. "Grandma can come with me. You could stay-"
Hikari steps outside. She stuffs the bag in his hands. "You're not going to make your grandma walk all the way down again, Ise."
Chiasa snorts. The direct light from the house made her glower far more menacing than her son's. "Grandma decrees that grandma feels perfectly fine. It's a wonderful weather for a family trip! Let's go."
The wind that chills Hikari to the bone does not exactly compliment Chiasa's comment on the weather, but she is going to gratefully accept that attempt to get going and be done with all the worrying and scuffling to stop her from being a good mother.
Issei stays silent. He clenches his jaw into an unusual expression. Finally, he stuffs the bag she just handed him in his grandmother's hands.
He twirls on his heels and a second later, her Ise is on his knee, his arms outstretched behind his back.
"Hop on," he simply says.
Issei wants to carry me?
Chiasa shifts. "Issei, if you fall, this will not end well for anyone."
He twists his neck and stares at Hikari. A shadow is casted over his face and clenched jaw. It is not casted by his chopped hair or the dim light of stars.
She knows this sight intimately. This shadow lurks and attaches itself to her little boy, leading him to long silences and haunted jostles.
He looks like he has come back home from a war.
"Mom. Please."
Hikari remembers a resolute face and set eyes that never backed down, even when social workers told him he would not be allowed to stay with her for much longer as she drowned in mindlessness. She sighs and allows what she cannot fight.
"Okay," she relents.
She deposits the Glorygold on the threshold of their house gently. Ever so gently, she circles her arms around his neck.
He grasps her legs and smoothly stands. It jolts her into a sitting position, snuggled against a back she doesn't recognize.
A ball of white fluffyness appears then, hopping around Issei's legs happily.
"Good evening, Bunny," her boy greets.
The bunny nuzzles his leg in return.
It's the cutest thing ever and Hikari wants to squeal and squish them both.
The bunny hops to their doorstep. It brushes its curious nose against the Glorygold. It opens its tiny mouth and ivory teeth flash.
"Bunny," a hoarse voice she barely identifies as his chides before the small animal can taste the dancing flower, "can you take the flower without eating it?"
The bunny pauses. It tilts its head at Issei then at the shining, tasty treat that was offered to its hungry eyes. It sneezes. Finally, it clamps its mouth shut with the cutest little regretful grumble.
Issei chuckles and the rumbles it causes course from his body to his mother's. Hikari shifts in his grasp. She switches between watching the teen who bears her son's name and the animal he speaks to so familiarly.
Her evening is already turning magical. She cannot phantom how their meeting with Persephone will be, since it seems magic has taken roots in her life without a moment's notice. How incredibly fantastic.
The fluffy white ball sniffs the flower. Hikari wants to comment on the impossibility of such a tiny thing being able to transport such a beautiful flower without eating it and really, Ise, I'm the one who had a brain tumor and is supposed to be silly, don't steal my role. Of course, the world is full of jokes. One fluid head bump later, the little rabbit stands with the Glorygold balanced between his long ears. It is doing it like a champ.
If someone ever asks Hikari to draw the silliest thing she has ever seen, that would be it. With her face in the background, mouth agape and eyes wide.
Chiasa raises her hands high in the sky. "Hold on, hold on. Why are we bringing the magical and very useful flower too? Please tell me it's not part of the offerings. We're keeping that. We are definitely keeping that."
Issei chuckles again. The uncontrolled movements of his shoulders jostle Hikari, but that's okay. His laughter is a source of joy. "We are keeping it. I just want to ask a question or two about it. The Glorygold doesn't look healthy."
Chiasa pinches her lips.
"She is the goddess of Spring. She might know how to care for it," Issei argues softly.
Chiasa smoothes her expression. "Okay. But if she asks for it, I will tell her she has to pay a hefty price. We are mercenaries in this family, boy."
The smile that adorns that roguish declaration is a bit too charismatic. It's also a bit too devilish. There's a reason Hikari always thought her mother-in-law was a dangerous one. The world is full of wolves in sheep's clothing. And then there's Chiasa, who is clearly a wolf that does not care for appearances.
After the shock leaves -and long after her son has handed her the lamp for she is the lampholdder, bringer of light and snacks, as he put it, and they started their walk down the hill-, she finds some of her rotting common sense in a dark alley of her brain. "Ise, where did you find that rabbit?"
Her magical son stalls over a rather wet patch of lichen. The forest around them is dark and full of shadows her lamp cannot destroy. It is dark and moody and full of monsters. Her boy shrugs and she is back to him and his warmth. "He found me. I think he is a supernatural bunny."
Chiasa, at the front, stops abruptly. She turns sharply on her heels. She is either squinting because the light is too bright or because she is trying to find her grandson's common sense in that big skull of his.
Apparently, she doesn't find what she searched for.
She points with a trembling arm at the animal that waddles its tiny butt in front of them, balancing a flower on its head like it's easy. "You think?"
Issei jostles his mother higher. Hikari props her head on his shoulder, watching the side of his face carefully. She sees the beginning of a weak smile appear on his visage. She feels him breathing in. She knows he has opened his mouth to talk before she hears his voice. "Yes…?"
The wind's scalding gusts slap them. The trees bend and their frozen bark hisses at the sudden movements. Hikari feels attacked.
The matriarch of the Hyoudou family sighs. Her shoulders sag into a movement of pure abandon Hikari has never seen before. She glances at the mother of her grandson and grimaces. "I think Issei inherited Ichika's wits."
Issei pulls a face. Hikari can see him pout from her perch, eyes scanning their surrounding in a familiar gesture. He does that when he searches for a witty comeback.
He probably feels insulted on his grandfather's behalf, she muses. Her father-in-law wasn't exactly the sharpest crayon in the box but neither was he a complete idiot. Her husband, sadly, inherited the bad and none of the good.
"Grandpa always kicked my ass," Hikari reaches for his cheek before he can finish his sentence and pinches it wordlessly. You know the rule, Ise. No bad words.
"Ow, ow, sowwyyyy, I'm sowwy," Issei pitifully whimpers.
Hikari lets go of his dry, cold skin and pats it tenderly. He needs some moisturizer in his life. "Good boy."
Issei sniffs.
Chiasa laughs.
"Grandpa always beat me at go and Risk," he mumbles indignantly.
The blinding light of the flashlight illuminates Chiasa's profile and her sorry expression.
"Yes," she comments slowly. She pats Issei's arm, then Hikari's hand. "I'm sorry; I really do think your boy is like this because of my Ichika."
"I can hear you, grandma," Issei grumbles.
Hikari laughs freely against his nape. "That's okay, I love him anyway."
He twists his neck and glowers at her. "Mom!"
Her laugh echoes in the valley. A warm breeze comes up, climbing the hill as they continue their descend. It caresses her face and reminds her of the smell of rain in summer. She can hear the gurgling stream they spoke off, except it sounds more like a waterfall than a trickle from where they are.
They all slowly fall into silence again. Chiasa takes her spot at the head of their little group, hopping alongside the bunny with her backpack full of plants. Hikari holds the lamp securely, illuminating the valley for their human eyes. Issei jostles her against his back, securely going down one step at the time where his grandmother ran and jumped.
"Shut up, Ddraig," her boy mumbles in the silence they fell into.
Her interest peaks. "Who are you talking to, Ise?"
"The dragon in my Sacred Gear," Issei awkwardly starts. Hikari finds the mythological turn fascinating. "He laughed at me."
"Good." Chiasa barks a laugh.
"That's not very nice," Hikari chimes in. She hides her smile behind her son's shoulder when Chiasa sends her a knowing glance.
Issei cringes. He stops and the mother and son watch as the elder of the group hop from one spot to another down the hill with flexibility neither possesses.
"Grandma, wait for us."
"We're almost at the brook, slowpoke," the elder woman shots back.
Issei grumbles. Nevertheless, Hikari feels he picks up the pace, moving forwards faster.
Stars twinkles over their heads now. She can't see her puffs of white breath anymore. The darkness that envelopes the weak electrical light they have brought along is almost welcoming. The forest isn't as dark and somber anymore. They can see the difference in temperature now in the way the earth is soft, in the way green has overtaken brown and grey, in the way she wants to paint it all to keep it as treasured memory.
She is exploring a whole new world.
Hikari feels… rejuvenated.
Hikari, yet again, is left to own thoughts as they approach the brook wordlessly. Her temperamental mother-in-law is back to munching on her words. Perhaps she recites mantras. Perhaps she is cursing Hikari to a long life of health and wealth, because Chiasa does things a bit backwards, even when she means well. Blessings are outdated. Curses are exactly her style.
Her son's shoulders are wider than she remembered them to be.
Vines moves under her.
Her son is muscled.
She stops fondling his shoulders when he twists his neck towards her. "Mom?"
"It's nothing," she awkwardly murmurs. She can't exactly admit she was testing the flexibility of his muscles and wondering if she could ask him to model for her. A physique so well proportioned should not go to waste. Time to dress up pretty and strike a pose, darlin'.
"We're here," Chiasa calls.
The mother and son duo looks up and indeed, a sparse meadow, stuck between a cliff and a roaring river, lays before their eyes.
Hikari devours the sight. This is where the prologue of her adventures began. This is where her son's pinkie became a claw, long and sharp. This is where he leapt and met two Supernatural beings.
The little bunny waddles its way to the great tree that stands over the brook. The Glorygold dances on its head gently, making it a moving lantern of sort.
Make that three paranormal beings.
The way the Glorygold shines upon the tree that serves as a throne for the urn catches her attention. It is a soaked bridge between the two rapidly eroding banks. A poetic thought makes her rake her gaze over its ragged form, for it is also a bridge between their world and the Supernatural's.
The urn that sits in its twirling roots… looks like an urn. It's just a small grey pot. It contrasts its impossible green surroundings with a tame appearance. How strange that such a little thing is really the source of all that is happening, the cage of a great goddess.
She imagined grander things. The sweet scent of rain washed soil, the gentle breeze, the gurgling river… it thrills her heart.
Issei advances step by step in the meadow. A few feet from the great tree, he bends his knees slowly. She feels something hard and cold through her coat. A second later, her brain registers it as a rock. She lets her hands slide from his neck to her knees. Again, she feels vines move under her fingertips as they slide down against his coat.
"Stand back, okay. Don't come too close until I tell you otherwise."
Chiasa grumbles her acquiescence. She hands him her bag with a slight resistance.
He stares at his mother with his dark, dark eyes. She nods.
Her flashlight illuminates his back as her son leaves her side, bag full of plants and gardening tools hanging on his shoulder. She can see the urn clearly now with her lamp. It is surrounded by flowers that stand still. The light of her lamp casts immense shadows that dance around them, watching their mythical meeting.
Her hand quivers and the light thus flickers when the flowers around Persephone start to move.
Issei stops at the edge of dancing flowers. She can only see how he tilts his head, seemingly listening.
She mimics his movement, intent on hearing whatever Persephone tells her Ise. She will not let him do the talking and thinking alone.
The meadow does not echo with voices.
The river gurgles.
The goddess remains desperately silent and Issei remains desperately away from her.
The only sounds her ears can pick up, beside the obvious sounds coming from the forest and overwhelming her sense, are the brushes and whistling the fluid movements of the balancing flowers produce.
Wait…
Hikari squints. If she focuses- there seems to be a voice in the midst of the noises. The voice flickers in and out of existence and she cannot catch it long enough to hear anything that it murmurs to her baby boy.
Her baby boy's back tenses.
Where is her boy who begged for more candies when they would go buy food together?
The bunny nudges her thigh. The Glorygold's leaves brush her coat. Hikari scratches its fluffy head mindlessly; gaze glued to her big little man. The pain that holds the joints of her fingers as its fortress recedes slowly.
She sighs contently. Issei won't be able to say she couldn't deal with the journey. She will be fine. Her body is almost too fine for it to be normal, but, again, it is not like she knows the specific effects of the tears of a Devil who shares attributes with phoenixes. Issei did inject her with a drop, he said.
Perhaps it is what keeps her from the cold. Perhaps the tumor in her brain really disappeared, disintegrated by something out of their human understanding.
Chiasa finds a seat on another round rock. She sweeps it with her gloves before she sits. "How long do you think it's going to take?"
Hikari flickers her gaze towards her too calm mother-in-law. Her calm has never been a good sign; it was either a sign of mischief or a sign of bad times. Tempests brew in silence, her father used to say. "I don't know"
Chiasa grimaces. "Do you hear anything?"
"I hear nothing," Issei agrees to something aloud then and Hikari feels obligated to finish her sentence on a positive note, "besides what he says."
"Oh. I thought I was going deaf." Chiasa juts her chin forwards. "He has no trouble hearing that goddess, it seems."
She feels something akin to pride swells in her chest. Her boy has always been bright, always telling her stories -he was adamant the parquet told him tales and he was just passing them to her- or understanding things at a ridiculous pace. He understands people, understood what they wanted and how they wanted it since he was a small boy who ran around the neighborhood to help the elderly couples and play with the younger kids who didn't have any playmates. Irina, his only girl friend back then, was the living proof of his understanding of people; he recounted how he had to befriend her so the other children would approve of her blond hair and accented Japanese. Irina repaid his kindness with a loyalty Hikari rarely saw in any other child, especially one who was older than her Issei. She stood by him even when her classmates mocked her for her 'little boyfriend'.
Issei was devastated when she left to go back to her home country.
Hikari wakes from her reverie with the feeling of a foreign object touching her hand. Chiasa gently rights her hand so her flashlight illuminates Issei and Persephone-in-an-urn.
Her son rasps something she can't pierce together.
He kneels and rips the zipper of his bag open. A few shaky shoveling later, a crumpled clipping of a flowering Quince is embraced by the crumbly soil. A Snapdragon meets the hollow hole her boy made a few moments later. He clumsily covers the holes. The clippings stand slanted, dangerously close to the ground.
She wants to call him and give him instructions because, darling, that's not how you do it. The poor plants are going to suffer a short death if they are left this way.
The flowers around the urn move into a dance.
Issei slowly turns. He faces his family and drags his feet out of the wet soil surrounding the goddess and her peculiar companions.
He wipes his muddy hands on his pants and smiles awkawdly. "It's done."
Chiasa snorts. "Koji didn't need to instruct you. They're doing just fine now," she observes.
Hikari tilts her body and follows her mother-in-law's gaze. What she sees takes her breath away. New roots plunge into the soil, greedily moving the quince and the snapdragons closer to the urn.
Issei nods as if it were the most normal thing he had ever seen and not the most awesome thing in the world. "She said it would suffice for now. We will probably need to bring her more later."
He bites his bottom lip and chews it like a toy. It's an old habit he picked up as a boy and never quite let go off. It's an old habit that pierces through all her recommendations and comments to remind him his lips are not food and shouldn't be treated as such when he is troubled. Anxious.
He is directing his worried gaze at her. "Mom- what do you think of her offer?"
"Hmm?" she is sketching the way the Snapdragons almost bow at the urn, small flowers blooming vibrantly.
"You didn't hear her voice?" he points behind him. His chin slackens and he gaps openly.
How strange. That is not a look she recognizes on him. It is not pure surprise he expresses, but some sort of twisted shame. He should be proud of his skills, not ashamed.
Her hand leaves the rabbit's head she massaged till now. She pats her baby boy's hand. "No, I didn't hear a thing."
"Oh." He looks down and again, a strange shadow hovers between him and her. Magic stands between them, distancing them with each movement of the colorful flowers that dance around an urn.
He sighs tiredly. "Do you like plants?"
"That's a strange way to start an explanation, Issei, and you know it. What does Persephone want with Hikari?" Chiasa interjects impatiently.
Issei twists his mouth. "The goddess- Persephone. She wants to bless you too."
Hikari blinks. "What?"
He kneels at her feet. Her gaze finds his and they lock into each other. She feels her eyes dry yet does not break the contact. His dark, dark eyes are drawing her in. "She said you have a strong affinity with life and that you would do a better student than me to learn her craft."
"What is her craft?" she finds herself asking.
Issei breaks their eye contact. He twists his torso and tilts his head towards the dancing flowers. They make waves, never quite crashing unto the earth nor breaking apart from the movement. The Quince is blooming in a shade of red now.
Her not-so-little Issei nods a few times. "Miss Persephone says that she will allow you to understand and grow plants."
Chiasa makes a noise that resembles a laugh, except it is hysterical and high-pitched. "So, basically, Hikari is going to have a very good green thumb?"
She catches the way his eyebrow twitches.
"Yes…" he trails off.
Her little boy has never been a good liar.
He clamps his hands around hers. "You don't need to say yes. Miss Persephone really wanted me to ask you, but you really, really don't need to agree."
Her baby boy, who has seen so, so much, is asking her if she wants to jump into his world. It's a dark world, full of ruthless beings and monsters. It is where her son lives now.
It's terrifying.
But-
Her Issei's hands are warm.
If it's scary for her, she doesn't want to think how horrifying his own adventures and mishaps must have been. She does all the same. It's all she had thought about the entire time, since she woke up with a red-eyed son by her side.
He went through worse. And now, they're doing this together and Issei is not an idiot. She isn't either. A digital document, back home, is already updated in her mind. To survive in this strange wild wide world, they will need everything and some more. With this second chance at life, Hikari wants to live and see her boy live.
She will not be a wall-flower while others suffer and live. She has been one long enough during her marriage.
He is the same as before, nevertheless. That dark, dark world has not changed his soul or his kindness. Pale, worried, trying his best to be supportive and gentle. Just as he was when she sunk into illness and stupor over her crumbling life.
She wiggles a hand out of his grasp and put it atop their joined limbs. She squeezes gently.
Hikari jumps.
"Let's do this." She holds her hand out. Like a gentleman, he helps her to stand up.
They will light that strange world up and if they can't, they will adjust to the darkness. She is not letting her son walks this path alone. She is his mother and he is far from being an adult.
(Even if he were… Hikari would not let him fight his way into this mysterious world where teenagers have to kill to not be killed and Devils exist. Hikari believes in family bonds and love. She believes she would not forgive herself if anything happens to him and all she can show as her efforts was being a burden.)
The light of her lamp, left by Chiasa's side, casts their shadow on the flowers they approach. They look like big, thin monoliths ready to carve their path in the cheerful flower bed. She can barely see the urn in the mess of vegetation that embraces it now.
"What do we have to do?" she whispers softly.
He doesn't answer immediately. His face is shrouded in darkness and she wonders if she looks as terrifying as him.
(She hopes she does.)
"We have to bleed on the urn and- let's start with the bleeding part."
The flowers shiver. So does Hikari, but it is not fear that makes her heart skip beats. Excitement is an odd feeling encountered in strange places, it seems.
He kneels and slowly picks a petal from a pink flower –fuchsia? No, the petals are wrong. Rose? No thorns. Peonies? No, no, no. Her memory cannot name what her boy is playing with and it itches furiously. She should know. She should know this much, goddess involved or not.
He pricks his index with the petal. The flowers slide out of the way, encircling his foot as he steps forward in their bed.
Slowly, he drags his bleeding finger across the urn's surface.
Hikari shivers.
When he backpals with a hop to her side, she doesn't back down. When he pricks her finger for her with the strangely sharp petal –it is not supposed to be sharp, it's supposed to be soft and fragile-, she doesn't question it. When he holds her by the waist to walk into the vegetation surrounding a spring goddess, she doesn't wither. She drags her hand across the warm, smooth surface, letting her blood seeps freely from the minuscule wound Issei made with the most crestfallen face she had ever seen him sport.
Her blood stain mingles with her son's.
"Repeat after me," he whispers. His breath tickles his ears. She mouths along, burning the words he mutters in her mind. "Everytime you meet a Supernatural being and they ask for your name, you need to say this. Otherwise, they can use your name to make you do… unsightly stuff."
The sheer thought that she might meet another Supernatural jolts her heart. She lets out a long, shaky sigh.
"Do you remember everything?"
She nods. She turns towards the urn.
"I do not give you power over my name, I simply present it to you, goddess. My name is Hayashi Hikari and it is not yours."
The urn glows. The flowers dance.
Issei puffs out his chest. She mimics his gesture a heartbeat later. They're human. They're proud. They're fearful and fearless.
Issei starts. "We seek your Blessing, Persephone, goddess of Spring and keeper of souls."
Hikari sees the flowers dance. She hears a voice, distinct and clear, rasps out broken Japanese. "I thus bless you, Hikari Hayashi and Issei Hayashi."
A warm wind envelops her. The world becomes bright, bright, bright.
The voice rumbles in her ears and oh, her flesh quivers. "You, Hayashi Hikari, receive my eyes. May they guide you and teach you the ways of life.
There are no words, no languages, no sounds that can express what Hikari sees.
Each drop of sap that slowly drips or hikes through the columns of the trees glows and diffuses its shine throughout their fibers. Each root that twists and curls under the soil seeks blue clouds and drags them towards them.
The world has never been so colorful. It has never been so mysterious.
"You, Hayashi Issei, receive my hands. May you understand the growth of life, respect it and protect it."
She glances at her son and- she squints. The colors around him seem tame in comparison with the supernova his arms are. The light around him is attracted to his arms, curling and twisting in never-ending patterns across his skin.
Her boy is looking down at his bright sunny hands. She sees a gentle trick of crimson going from his left arm to his entire body, like the developing roots of a tree.
To her disappointment, her own hands do not shine and glow like the rest of the flora surrounding them. She is a frail candle when her son is a sun.
The sour taste of disappointment disappears when Issei offers her a toothy beam. It tells her he is also experiencing beautiful things.
09/03/2020
I'm going to so something a bit different for this note. I think it is time I answer some of your reviews in here (I do send private messages from time to time, but my crazy student life doesn't always allow for it.). Several of you raised the same point and I want to answer them for your enjoyment and mine ;)
Does this really belong in the adventure genre?
Yes. I know the beginning can be considered as a slow, emotional one. That's how I wanted to unravel Issei's story and it is also what felt right. We start with something that is not fun at all; his mother is sick, his dad left and he has visions of things that cannot be real (ahahah). As the story moves forward, the adventure is going to pick up the pace. Actually, a main cast character is going to appear soon and then... the revolution will start. I'm a big fan of the butterfly effect.
What's up with Persephone?
Eeheheheh. I can't answer this.
What about the bow?
Issei used it once in front of your eyes. It is not a Sacred Gear and Issei... stumbled on it during the chapter I so evilly took out of the plot (go check out chapter 8 if you're confused by my comment). As I said before, I do enjoy the butterfly effect. Do not worry, my dears. I will give you something to enjoy with the bow.
Is Issei going to train at some point?
Yes. Next chapter, actually.
Ddraig/Issei/Hikari/Grandma are super nice to read about!
Awwww. My cold little heart that never updates on time is warmed by your reviews, guys. I really, really wanted to nail Ddraig's character. I'm glad y'all like his snark and grumpiness.
Where is my backflip for my review?
My doctor begged me to stop doing so many backflips. It's bad for my health, he said. I don't believe him.
... just kidding. You just have to believe I do a backflip in my heart every time you review, dear readers.
