A/N: This is the longest chapter so far, probably because I can't resist digging into this part of Naoi's life (and because I couldn't cut it in two). Also I love the titular character.
Rival Argentica: So glad you're loving the angst as much as I am! :D That whole ring metaphor bit, oh man, I felt as evil as Rumpelstiltskin and it felt good. It's true, he already has Yuri's locket. When Rumple takes objects, his reasoning depends. Maybe he knows they'll be valuable later, maybe they're payment for his wasted time... or maybe he's a jerk and used the ring as bait to mess with Naoi. All could be true. As for the Hinata/Yui/Shiina situation, never fear, my plans for them are fun but not cruel!
ZainR: Hope this chapter helps you end this week on a high note! Actually, that goes for all of you.
[Chapter 09]: Ayame's Advice
When he came to, things were a bit brighter. And despite the cold washcloth draped across his forehead, the ache in his skull was killing him.
He cracked open one eye, and then the other just a sliver, enough to recognize his own sitting room in his own house. More lights were on than usual, though, which was odd. He didn't even remember coming home. And he certainly didn't remember any of his pillows being this… comforting.
Or warm…
He shifted his head upwards an inch, and that was a big mistake. Groaning in pain, he returned to his original spot, then sighed blissfully when gentle and slender fingers stroked his hair in a steady rhythm.
"Ryou, dear, I think he's awake."
If he wasn't then, he certainly was now. His breath caught in his throat. That voice… it couldn't be. He cautiously opened his eyes again, only to see the same shade of gold glittering down at him.
"Mother?" he asked quietly, then winced at the awful strain on his throat.
She hushed him, leaning and tilting her head down to kiss the top of his hair. Strands of black hair mixed with grey tickled his nose, and he wavered between a smile and a frown. His father was aging her too quickly.
"Yes, Ayato," she said, resuming her maternal ministrations to his hair. "It's me."
His mother. Ayame Naoi. Here in Mizuzaka. How was this even possible?
"What… are you… doing here?" He rubbed his throat, wincing again. There was some swelling, he should have suspected.
"Your friend and I found you unconscious under a bridge," his mother said softly. "You were in bad shape, so we took you back to your house to take care of you."
He shook his head—another bad move. "No… you know that's not what I meant."
She caught his eyes, understanding, and gave him a sad little smile. Of course she knew, she was telling him silently, but now wasn't the time to explain such unpleasant things. Just as he was about to pry, a head of violet hair popped into view in the kitchen pass-through.
"How's he doing, Mrs. Naoi?" Ryou asked, lightly waving a small bottle of wine-red liquid in her hand.
"A little hoarse, dear," said his mother, giving her a little nod.
Returning the nod, Ryou exited the kitchen and meandered over to the couch where she was resting with Ayato in her lap. The younger of the two women knelt down and poured a tiny amount of the red liquid into a spoon, then brought it to his mouth. "Here," she said. "Drink this."
As much as he hated being coddled, Ryou knew what she was doing. He'd learned of her decision to switch to nursing a few months back while trying to wheedle Yuri's address out of her, so he could trust that whatever was in that stuff would help. Obediently, he opened his mouth and accepted the remedy, heaving a grateful sigh after the soothing medicine trickled down his throat.
"Thank you, Ryou," he said, and quietly marveled at his voice's fast improvement. The crackle-and-sandpaper quality had come and gone.
"No problem." She capped the bottle and set it on the coffee table, then turned her attention back to her patient. "Do you think you're well enough to tell us who did this to you?"
Ayato wracked his aching brains for an identity, and found none. "I don't know his name. But suffice it to say, I'll be careful who I try to hypnotize after this."
His mother peered at him questioningly, while Ryou's expression quickly grew stern.
"See that you do!" she said, furrowing her eyebrows and getting back on her feet. "I knew that hypnotism stuff was dangerous."
"Hypnotism?" his mother repeated, still befuddled. "What hypnotism? What are you two talking about?"
"It doesn't matter, because he's going to regulate it from now on," came Ryou's voice from a little ways down the hall. She sounded like she was near the hall closet.
Despite Ryou's attempt to brush the matter off, his mother was still silently asking him a question. Her lips pursed in that way that always got her answers—from her son, at least.
Ayato sighed. "It's just a trick that I learned."
She seemed to accept his answer, or at least recognize that he would say nothing more on the subject.
"Well, it's good that you have a nurse for a friend," she said after a brief silence. She smiled down at him again. "Miss Fujibayashi was a great help to me in locating you."
"How did you?" When her mouth twitched into a hesitant frown and she opened it to say something, he shook his head. "And not later. Tell me now."
She looked away, staring straight at the wall, then slowly continued petting his head. Her caution gave away one thing—she'd done something she'd been conditioned to believe that she shouldn't.
"I've missed you every second of every day, Ayato," she said quietly. "But I understand why you wouldn't tell me where you were going when I said I couldn't go with you—"
"You could've."
She paused to give him a warning look, but he stared defiantly back up at her. Nevertheless, she gave a soft shake of her head and continued.
"He would have gotten it out of me sooner or later, I'm sure. He certainly tried to get it out of the Nakamuras, but you know how they intimidate him." She laughed to herself. "And it's difficult to get ahold of them anyway. Such a busy couple. I always knew where Yuri got her type A personality…"
As painful as it was, Ayato cleared his throat. Painful, but entirely necessary.
Her lips quirked, unamused with him, but she got the message. "I don't know how he did it. Maybe he has connections to the town. Maybe he tracked you down like the bloodhound he is. But I overheard your father—" she paused when he flinched in her lap, then continued unapologetically, "talking to few visitors when they came asking for you, and he told them you were here."
Ayato tensed again. "They told me he only knew the city."
"He does. But that's all I needed to come find you," she said, brushing the bangs out of his eyes. "I will always find you."
The surge of affection he felt for his mother was displaced momentarily by a rush of stern, protective concern. Yes, when people loved one another, they would always find each other. But there were circumstances where you couldn't just dive in headfirst.
"And just how did you get past him?" Ayato ventured, not making any attempt to mask the edge of suspicion in his tone.
"I told him I was visiting 'the family,'" she replied matter-of-factly. "Since he was busy in the workshop and all, and he loathes my side of the family, of course he wouldn't want to come."
She sounded rather pleased with herself, but Ayato opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds before forcing himself into a sitting position. "You lied to him?!"
"No, Ayato," she said, grasping his hands in hers. "You're my family. And don't strain your vocal cords like that."
"He's not going to take it that way!" His throat urged him not to ignore her motherly warning, but he was too alarmed by her gall. Where in the world had this come from? "What if he tries to contact your other family members and you're not there? If he finds out—" His gaze flicked to the bruises on her arms and wrists, which despite his firm grip had not come from his own fingertips.
"He won't," she assured him, although he detected the seeds of doubt in her eyes. "I won't be here long, and like I told you, he's very busy."
"But it was you who compared him to a bloodhound," Ayato muttered, more to himself than to her. "And apparently now he makes it his business to know things that concern me."
The back of her hand ghosted across his forehead, now that the washcloth had fallen to the floor.
"Ayato… don't worry about me." She forced him to meet her solemn stare. "Worry about yourself, or else I have to keep doing it for you." Sighing, she leaned back against the couch with her hands clasped in her lap. "I came to Mizuzaka to see you, Ayato, and I'm glad I did. I'd been searching for you for half an hour when I met your friend Ryou. It felt like fate, until we found that you weren't home."
"But then I remembered Yuri telling me about the bridge and why it was important to her, and I had a feeling you'd be there," said Ryou, returning to the TV room with an armful of pillows and blankets and then setting them down on the empty side of the couch. "We didn't expect to find you passed out underneath it."
Ayato scoffed. "Well, today's just full of surprises, isn't it?"
At this, Ryou noticeably winced, and at the same time, his mother was glancing around the house with an eyebrow raised in confused appraisal.
"I meant to ask, but where is Yuri?" she inquired. "Did something happen to her? Ryou said it was best if I heard it from you."
Well, that'd be Ryou. He glanced at the shy nurse, who was chewing at her lip again as she turned her stare pointedly away from the two of them. Always keeping secrets.
His mother, who'd grown visibly unnerved by his silence, noticed the look and let out a sharp breath.
"She died in childbirth, didn't she?" She turned to give his hands a tighter squeeze. "Oh, Ayato, I warned you when you bought the ring that the girl didn't have proper birthing hips—"
Where on earth had his gentle, mellow mother learned to speak so freely, especially in front of guests? Mortified, Ayato wrenched his hands away and opened his mouth to correct her, but then she mentioned something that brought on even more panic, like a door to his memory slammed open in his still-thudding head. He patted his jacket and pant pockets, but it was fruitless.
The ring. He'd never gotten an identity to the man. The man still had the ring. It might very well be lost to him forever.
"—but of course you told me, 'her hips are just fine—'"
"Mother!" he said, exasperated. At the moment, Yuri's hips were the last thing he wanted to talk or think about. Especially since he had been straddling them on this very couch right before everything changed. Great, now he was thinking about it. "Yuri is alive, and she certainly didn't die in childbirth. If she had, wouldn't I still have a child to show you?"
His mother made a small noise of consideration. "If you were lucky."
Ayato rolled his eyes. "As it is, I never got her pregnant in the first place," he muttered. No child to show for their union, and now no ring either. But that was his doing.
"And it's unlikely you ever will."
Was she attacking her hips or her fertility now? Though of course his mother wouldn't mean any of these things personally, or else she wouldn't have helped him pick out a ring for Yuri shortly before he moved away with her. She wasn't going to be happy with him for already losing both.
"You're right about that," he said at last. "We've been divorced for six months."
He watched her expression fall, and carefully calculated the timing for the bombshell to take effect. In five, four, three, two…
"Divorced?" Slowly, then all at once, blatant disapproval took over her aged features. "Divorced! After all the criticism you gave me about my marriage, you couldn't even last half a decade, that is NOT the hardworking son I know—"
Cringing at her words, he turned away and sank deeper into the couch cushions. Yes, he knew her opinions on divorce. Or else she might not be so stubborn about staying with an abusive pile of trash. It just seemed terrible to be with someone after they've made it clear they don't love you, no matter what you feel for them.
But here his mother was, married to Kimito Naoi and waiting on him hand and foot, while giving him lip for his relationship choices. And even pulling the "who are you and what have you done with Ayato" crap on him. For some reason, that really rubbed him the wrong way.
"Did you turn into an entirely different person in the last four years since I've seen you?" she demanded.
"Of course not!" He was starting to miss the coddling right about now. Perhaps she'd forgotten that her son had been choked and knocked out cold. "That's ridiculous!"
"Well, the Ayato I know was madly, endlessly in love with Yuri Nakamura and wouldn't let anything come between them. Not even his father." The hand she placed on his shoulder was much gentler than her stare. "I can't imagine a bigger obstacle he might've faced. Which makes me wonder… is that Ayato gone?"
Outwardly, he froze, but her words had left him utterly shaken. The bedrock of all he'd believed for the last six months, the bedrock that had withstood quite a few cracks in the last 48 hours or so, was collapsing.
At first, yes, he'd amended that this life had mattered because it had happened. Yuri denying its existence had frustrated him because it wasn't logical. The pictures, the ring, and the locket had existed. Still, he held on to the belief that their time together in this life was too artificial to factor into who they truly were. Almost like a special episode in a series where the characters did something that wouldn't last in canon. Yes, it was a real episode, but it wouldn't be used for continuity, and they'd pick up where they left off.
But if that were true… it would mean that his mother was unintentionally correct—he wasn't the son she knew four years ago. She only knew and gave birth to the son who grew up to fall in love with Yuri. If that version of him was gone, then how could he still love his mother and fear his father the same way for the same things they did? In a life that wasn't supposed to matter to him? What made those feelings still real, while he sorted his feelings for Yuri into the categories "post-memories self" and "pre-memories self"?
He was so tired of feeling like two Ayatos at once, tired of all these confusing thoughts. Tired of the hassle of juggling two lives and an afterlife in his head, and trying to keep himself sane by separating them.
"I don't want to talk about that," he muttered. "Thinking about all of this hurts my head."
His mother and Ryou shared a regretful look.
"That's right," said Ryou. "He did hit the back of his head on a rock. I'm sure the last thing he wants to do is talk or think about his ex-wife!"
He shifted a suspicious glance in her direction. She was fiddling with her fingers, and her smile seemed too nervous and wavering. She was too eager to change the subject, much more eager than he was.
And then it hit him—as hard as that rock but a bit less painful.
"Actually, Ryou," he said, as calmly and pleasantly as possible while his mother propped a pillow behind his head, "may I speak to you alone for a moment?"
The girl continued smiling as she accepted his request, but now her stance was doubly tense, like a doe who felt someone looking down at her through the barrel of a gun. Ayato got to his feet, reminded his mother to make herself at home, then he led Ryou by the wrist to the far end of the hall.
"Tell me, Ryou," he said once they were alone. "Yuri lived with you for quite a while, isn't that right?"
Ryou nodded. "Just until she found a place to live."
"And did you try to entertain her with any magic tricks?" Ayato asked. "I know you're interested in that sort of thing."
"Just fortune-telling." Ryou shrugged modestly. "I tried to cheer her up once by reading her fortune, but she didn't really care to hear about her future."
"I see. Just one more question, then."
Ayato leaned forward with his eyes narrowed, observing her reaction carefully.
"By the time she moved out… did Yuri still know who I was?"
The girl nearly leaped ten feet into the air like a shocked frog. If at all possible, her eyes grew even larger. "Y-yes!" she squeaked.
Whether or not she was telling the truth, she was holding something back from him. Ayato pointed an accusing finger at Yuri's shaken conspirator.
"You knew!" he snarled. "You knew she wouldn't remember me! That's why you were trying to keep me from her!"
"I—I only wanted to protect you both—"
"What did you do?" he demanded, balling up his fists. "Why is she like this?"
Wincing, Ryou hugged herself protectively. "I didn't do this to her, I swear! I don't have that kind of magic!"
"Somebody does!" When his shout left an echo, he sighed and lowered his voice. "I just want to know who did this to her and why." He leaned against the wall, thumping his head against the surface—yet another bad move. He sank down a few inches, his shoulders slumped. What did he do to be the only one forgotten completely?
Ryou closed her eyes and was silent for a minute. Possibly debating whether or not she should tell him something.
"She's under some sort of spell," she said, opening her eyes again. Ayato cast a curious glance at her, silently urging her to go on. "There's this strange man… I can't speak his name, but I know he's associated with a lot of dark magic. I know he's responsible for the spell."
"A spell that makes her specifically forget me?" Ayato frowned. What did this magic guy have against him? "I don't understand…"
Ryou gave him another sad smile.
"That's something you might need to figure out on your own," she said, her hands primly clasped in front of her. "Even I can't fully understand everyone's choices. Not even my own. I just try to read the possibilities of their future."
She was trying to be vague to throw him off the subject, he could tell, but he took the bait. "Probably best not to try to understand their choices anyway," he said, crossing his arms. "There are some people whose choices only make sense to them when they're making them."
Ryou eyed him thoughtfully after that, and he felt a little like one of her fortune-telling cards. He shifted nervously under her stare, until she reached into her pocket and took out something small and golden.
"This was lying next to your hand when we found you." She held it out to him in her open palm, and his breath caught in his throat. "Your pant legs were a little damp, like you'd been looking for it in the river. Did you make a choice that didn't make sense?"
At first his brain registered nothing but the ring in front of him. Gingerly, he picked it up and examined it, newly admiring the beauty of green against purple. He had a feeling Ryou wouldn't judge him for lovingly petting it in relief.
Then he recognized her question, and softly shook his head once he made sense of it. "No… it was nothing like that. Letting it go was an accident. Someone caught it and wouldn't return it to me, even after I tried to hypnotize him." He grazed the golden band, tracing the jewels with his fingers. "I thought I'd lost it for good."
"Your mother said it was Yuri's engagement ring," said Ryou, gazing at it too. Then she looked up and tilted her head at him. "Is it still important to you?"
He nodded, pocketing it. "I want to show it to her, to see if it jogs her memories."
Ryou frowned. "I guess that could possibly be strong enough," she said, "but then again I don't know how his magic works."
"It's worth a shot." He raised his wrist to check his watch. "Now, what time is it? I was going to—"
Nothing there but flesh.
When he glanced back up in confusion, Ryou looked just as puzzled as he was. "Did you or my mother take off my watch for some reason?"
"What watch?"
"The wristwatch I'm always wearing." Scratching his head, Ayato let out a low, frustrated groan. "It's black, engraved... pretty damned expensive?"
"You weren't wearing it when we found you," Ryou said timidly.
"…He returned the engagement ring, but took my watch in exchange for it." Ayato rubbed his temples, feeling the effects of his headache at the realization. "Unbelievable."
Since the divorce, he'd reasoned that there was no reason to hide the watch away with the rest of the Yuri stuff; it may have been an anniversary gift, but it was still a fully practical one. Thus reassured, he'd kept it with him at all times. And now… now some bastard was walking around with his "Ayato—till the end of time—Yuri" watch.
"…It's 22:36, if you still want to know," Ryou supplied, after a heavy silence.
It'd been such a long day. "I'll report it stolen in the morning," he said with a sigh. It was too late at night to drive back to Noroi, heaven help him if he showed up on Yuri's doorstep after midnight shoving pictures and an engagement ring in her face. Besides, by some miracle, his mother was here with him. He turned to Ryou, tired and sheepish but grateful. "Thanks for everything you've done tonight. For bringing my mother to me, and taking care of me too."
"Whatever I can do to help," said Ryou. It was no wonder she was a nurse. "And if you were planning to go back to Noroi, I can make arrangements for your mother to stay with me if she wants to stay in Mizuzaka a little longer."
The offer made Ayato raise an eyebrow. "You'd do that?"
"Sure!" Ryou nodded toward the older woman, who was passing by the other end of the hall to get to the kitchen. "I already suggested it while we were looking for you after we saw you weren't home. I remembered that if my intuition was wrong and you weren't somewhere in Mizuzaka, it was possible you were already in Noroi instead, so I told her she could stay with me for a while if we couldn't find you. We were getting along great, so it would be no problem!"
"You're being rather generous to me after I hypnotized you and your friend," Ayato noted. "Why are you doing all this?"
Ryou mulled over his question in silence, then unclasped her hands and let her arms fall at her sides. "It's what the Yuri with her memories would have wanted," she said in a quiet voice.
Not if he recalled correctly. Not if, according to Ryou, the Yuri who still had her memories was the Yuri who let the phone ring when she saw his name on her caller ID, the same Yuri who ignored him for weeks and moved without even saying goodbye.
No, not her.
"Yuri wouldn't have had anything to do with me," he said under his breath, before pushing past Ryou and striding down the hallway towards the kitchen. He only paused when he heard a phone buzz.
"It's mine," Ryou said when he started to search. She flicked her phone open to read the text. "It's Youhei. I should head out. But give me a call if you need anything. Your mother has my number."
He nodded at her in acknowledgement and in thanks, but said nothing she passed him by. He was on his way to the kitchen again when he felt a snag on his sleeve, and fingers wrapping tightly around his wrist.
"And Naoi?" she said, in a soft but imploring way that caught his attention. "I know this is hard, but… please don't give up on her the way she gave up on you."
With that, she drifted through the TV room to the foyer and closed the door behind her.
Leaving him to dwell on what in the world that could possibly mean.
The next morning, during breakfast, Ayato filled his mother in on his plans for the day, and was immensely relieved to find out that she understood.
"And I appreciate Ryou's offer, but I have to decline," his mother said through sips of hot tea, which earned her a surprised sound and a raised eyebrow from her son. "I told you last night I wouldn't be staying long."
He didn't mean his next words, but they slipped out anyway. "Then what was the point?"
"I merely wanted to see my son after four years," she said calmly, "and so I did. I have no regrets."
"Hmm," he said, though he was sure she knew how to translate it. I hope it stays that way, knowing your husband. But in response she gave him the same defiant, smug stare she'd received from him last night. "Your timing is impeccable by the way."
"I know you're being sarcastic," said his mother, harrumphing a bit into her eggs. "But if I hadn't come when I did, who knows how long you would have been lying underneath that bridge? It's not like Yuri would have come along and woken you up with true love's kiss."
Ayato squinted at her. "Thank you, Mother," he said after a beat.
"There you go with that cold hard sarcasm again." She stabbed determinedly at her eggs with a fork, only barely hiding a smirk. "Must've been what scared her off in the first place."
He heaved a suffering sigh and rested his forehead against his hand.
"I'm sorry, Ayato."
That had to be his mother's trademark phrase, though most of the time it wasn't him it was directed at. Ayato frowned at the thought and brushed it off; thinking of such things always made him regret not insisting she come live in Mizuzaka with him.
"Why do you do this?" he asked.
"Because I love you," she said matter-of-factly. Then her features softened as she stared down into her tea mug. "And because I just don't understand what could have possibly happened to make the two of you fall apart. I can't imagine her ever having an affair."
"No, it wasn't anything like that," Ayato assured her.
"Of course it wasn't," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "That girl was loyal to you. Protective, too. She would never leave your side, let alone for someone else's."
"She moved two hours away from me," he reminded her.
She didn't bat an eye. "Was that before or after you divorced her?" When he clamped his mouth shut and lowered his eyes to his plate, he heard her chuckle knowingly. "That's what I thought."
"What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying…" His mother released a small sigh and scooted her tea mug aside. "Why is it you've wanted me to come live here in Mizuzaka?"
"So you can be as far away from him as possible," Ayato said automatically. "So he doesn't keep hurting you. So he can't ever hurt you again."
His mother tilted her head in a way that implied he could come to his own conclusions. "Exactly."
"Wh—I never—" Ayato sputtered his indignation, flushing what he could only guess was an angry scarlet. "Don't compare me to him! I—"
"—would never put your hands on Yuri like that, I know," she finished for him. "I remember your vow. I'm just saying." She left them in meaningful silence as she paused to glance out the window. "Sometimes a woman just has to protect herself."
He loved his mother dearly, but in this case she couldn't possibly understand the situation as well as she thought. On the other hand, he couldn't really explain it that well himself. The truth was hard to swallow.
"The divorce was mutual," he said after a while, settling on his signature safety line.
"All right, Ayato," she said, rolling her eyes and dabbing at her mouth with a handkerchief. "I'll let you live in your own little bubble."
"Hey…!"
Come noon, they were both ready to go back to where they needed to be (arguably, Ayato would say, in his mother's case). His mother had traveled light, and he had never really unpacked. Unfortunately, he'd left his things in his car, and Ryou had driven him and his mother home in hers last night. Luckily his mother didn't mind the fifteen minute walk. A little exercise never killed anyone, and the weather was still as perfect as it had been since mid-March when the snow left. Save for a few clouds, surprisingly, but Ayato wasn't going to get his hopes up—a comment that made his mother chuckle.
"In some ways, you haven't changed a bit," she said. "That's a comfort."
They arrived at the park shortly to find his car just as he had left it, box and traveling bags still inside, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. Though he really hadn't expected anyone to steal the lovable hunk of junk he called a car, there was still a ring in that box that men like the one last night might want to get their grubby, wrinkled hands on.
"Well then." Ayato opened the door to the passenger seat. "Should I drop you off at the train station?"
"Not yet." Her eyes had trailed a little ways down the path in the opposite direction. "I want to see this walking bridge that Ryou said Yuri was so fond of."
He crinkled his forehead, playing with the idea. Part of him liked any idea that kept his mother in Mizuzaka a second longer, but something else made his insides churn every minute she was here betraying his father just by seeing him.
But he might as well conquer his avoidance of the bridge. He shut the passenger door, locked it, and off they went, side by side.
Next thing he knew, he was sitting on the bench part of the bridge while she was across from him gazing out over the sparkling river. Her dark hair, usually neat in its bun, was getting mussed and loosened by the April wind, but she didn't seem to mind. He liked seeing her this carefree.
"I like this place better this way," she said, a smile fluttering across her face. "In the daytime, on a nice spring day like this. When we're both above it and you're not unconscious."
Ayato laughed. "Yeah, I guess it didn't give you a very good first impression," he said, meanwhile eyeing a few high school students who were heading across in their direction. "But it has its charms."
One of the kids, a lanky redheaded guy in a baseball cap, chimed in as he passed by, "It's totally haunted though."
"Yeah," said the girl walking next to him, tall, thick, and cerulean-haired. "They say if you come here on a cold, stormy night, you can hear a woman sobbing."
Ayato rolled his eyes. "Don't ruin this bridge with ghost stories!" he yelled after them.
"Kids," his mother scoffed.
They enjoyed the scenery together for a little while longer, her breathing in the fresh air while he listened to the birds chirping and the water's steady flow far beneath their feet. There was a spot like this not too far from the Naoi estate, but this place had the advantage of being nowhere near Kimito Naoi.
"People should always ask their sweethearts to marry them here." His mother turned away from the other side of the bridge to beam at him. "If I'd known about this place before, you might have had less of a struggle convincing me to move to Mizuzaka."
His heart leapt in his chest with hope. "Then why don't you?"
She hummed sadly at his eagerness. "I said you'd have less of a struggle. But just like you, I have someone waiting for me elsewhere. Someone I have to return to soon."
"But I'm going to return to Mizuzaka eventually," Ayato pointed out.
"Maybe I will too, someday." She walked over, bent down, and kissed the top of his head. "For now, it's time to go."
They left the bridge and headed to Mizuzaka Station, arriving just a few minutes early for her train's departure. In the front seat of the car, he unbuckled so that he could turn in his seat and embrace her. As he wrapped his arms around his mother's small form, it occurred to him that before this point he hadn't hugged her at all since she'd arrived.
"This is our first hug in four years," he mumbled into the fabric of her shoulder.
"It won't be the last." She cupped his face in her hands. "I know it's not safe to call you…"
"You've got Ryou's phone number. Maybe that wouldn't be too suspicious?"
She smiled, brushing the bangs out of his eyes again. "I'll see what I can get away with." Then, she leaned in and touched her forehead to his. "My brilliant, handsome boy. Do me a favor and see if you can't win Yuri back with that face."
Ayato tried to stifle a groan. It was a face she couldn't even remember. But he wanted to humor her before they were parted again for heaven knows how long.
"I'll see what I can do," he conceded.
"Good." She beamed at him. "I know you've been lonely. I don't want you to be lonely." She patted his cheek, then unbuckled and exited through the passenger door. After she shut it, she motioned for him to roll down the window, and he complied. "Take care, Ayato. I love you."
"I love you too, Mother."
He stayed in the parking lot to watch until she boarded safely. Then he pulled out of the parking lot and headed back in the direction of Noroi.
A/N: Well, he had to get his affectionate side from somewhere. Right? Certainly didn't get it from Kimito. Good thing he has the ring back, in exchange for the anniversary watch though. Hm. I've never known Rumple to wear timepieces.
Another reunion coming up next! You just can't keep Naoi and Yuri away from each other forever.
Preview:
"Fate leads us to the people we're meant to meet."
"If you're done throwing your little hissy fit."
"So you don't… want your memories, then?"
"Wait a minute… it actually worked."
"I just can't believe I noticed Yui and never Shiina!"
"His son? I thought his son was—"
"There's only you."
[Chapter 10]: Back To Business.
