He crawled eagerly after me, his aura resonating with meaning as I bent down to meet him, picking him up and cradling him.
"Aren't you perfect?" I cooed, tickling his cheeks as he responded with an adorable gurgle. His cheeks were slightly flushed with faded pink. With his large golden eyes and tussled black wisps of hair, he looked like a true Yamashita. I sighed and gazed out the window, in the hopes of seeing my long-gone sister. Her contagious laugh echoed through my mind, bringing tears to my eyes.
Hiro gently lifted a hand to my face and took my attention from the slowly falling cherry blossoms. He stared at me, and before I realised what was happening, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked halfway over my shoulder and saw those familiar golden eyes. My eyes.
"Hello, Jiang."
"Ling?" I feel more tears stream down my face and I reach out one hand, my other balancing my son. "Is that you?" When my hand reached for hers, and nearly touched her arm, she stepped back. I frowned, that should've been my first hint. But I was still grieving.
Ling looked at Hiro, her eyebrows raising in amusement. "A child huh? So much for all that bravado of keeping the Tsuan name." Her gaze stayed steadily on Hiro, and I saw a flash of something. Anguish, pain, regret. It was too quick for me to fully grasp it.
I smiled sadly and watched my slowly forming fist as I relished the moment, the feeling of imagining her hand in mine once again. All those childhood memories rushed over me as I remembered her small fingers squeeze mine.
I'll never leave your side…
I sniffed loudly and watched Ling, it was then I noticed it, the faint mist around her. Like an apparition. Almost as if…I stiffened and looked directly at the closed doorway.
"Hiro, stop this," I said, my other hand tightened around his small, fragile body. He didn't respond. Not even a small cry for attention. I didn't look at him.
"Jiang, I've missed you so, remember all those sunny days in the creek? And remember the cat we raised and looked after together—?"
"Hirokazu!" I cried, my grip so tight I could feel his bones, bird bones. Still no noise. I closed my eyes, my sister's apparition still talking. Reminding me I lost her long ago.
I refused to look at my child as I placed him on the floor. He then let out a cry of protest. I ignored it, he hadn't stopped my sister from her rally of memories yet. She followed me as I sat down in the corner. I brought my knees up to my face, cradling myself as if I was the child. Not Hiro.
I stayed like that until my husband, Ryuu, found us. And that was four hours later.
By then, Hiro was screaming.
☽☀︎☾
"Hiro, if you don't eat the rice with the beans then this meal will be for naught." Ryuu began again, trying to force his son to eat another mouthful, another bite of the feast prepared by the Chef.
"But it tastes bad!" Hiro protested, throwing his fists up in frustration. He couldn't understand why we were making him eat what he didn't enjoy. It takes the fun out of it. I smiled to myself and remembered the days when I devised a plan to kill all the broccoli in the kitchen. Little did I know, they were technically already dead. Separated from their life-giving soil.
"Hiro," I said, looking away from my empty plate and half-steaming cup of tea. He looked at me, his gaze full of confusion. "You must eat, otherwise the Chef will only serve beans," I said, so calmly in a silly matter like this that I impressed myself.
Hiro blinked and looked from his mother to his father. "You sure?" He asked, picking up his chopsticks warily, eyeing the averagely small sum of beans in his porcelain bowl.
"You bet we're sure." Ryuu looked back at me, approval and admiration in his gaze. "Your mother and I have had more than enough experience with the Chef."
I blinked, suddenly holding my tongue. Even though correcting him would've meant nothing. It was the gentleness in his eyes and the smile on the corner of his mouth that stopped me. It didn't matter if Ryuu was from Mint Tokyo, that he was the son of a mere merchant who had no importance but trading life and tips. It was Ryuu's rank as Chief Commander of the Pongo Unit that had given the council the means to say yes to our marriage. Otherwise, I believed that I would've been married to a nobleman's son from Mint, Fuji Sugimoto.
"Thanks for warning me, Mama!" Hiro said happily, shovelling beans and rice grains into his mouth. His nose crinkled with disgust, but he chewed and swallowed in the short time of a minute.
Ryuu leant back in his seat next to me and sighed, watching Hiro drink his tea and smile now and then at us. I smiled back and then tossed my attention back to Ryuu. He saw this and watched carefully. I threw him my mind, the question that was emanating in my head. He grimaced and gripped my hand under the table, his long fingers wrapping around mine.
"Lin, watch Hiro for us." He said over his shoulder, the maid bowed and took her place by the door we exited.
He pulled me through doorways and down halls until we reached our sleeping chambers. He pushed me gently onto the bed and lay down next to me. I snuggled into his side, burying my face in the crook of his elbow.
"What's on your mind?" He asked, stroking my head affectionately, I could hear his smile. I looked up and caught his gaze with mine.
"I just noted that you didn't tell your son that you weren't from here," I said, tearing my gaze away and watching the shutters tap gently against the window sill. The moonlight seeping through the wooden panels, the scene perfectly normal, like every night.
"Ah yes, I nearly corrected myself with that." He said, his stroking slowing down considerably. His breath became shallow as he thought of a way to explain.
"Why didn't you?" I pressed on, wanting answers. He needed to have a good reason to lie. I rarely did so.
"Because," He paused, thinking the question over. "Our son is probably never going to leave these walls. He would be in too much danger unless guards were always by his side, and even then he would see how much his people hate him." The sadness and paternal tone in his voice allowed me to relax, just the tiniest amount.
"He's never going to have any friends at this rate, he will probably never even see the rice fields unless the citizens of Baî see sense, that he's just a little boy. Nothing is going to change. It will only get worse."
I sighed and pulled my gaze away from the window, the moonlight sifting softly through the panels and onto the floorboards, creating a spill of shadows and silver.
"You still haven't told me why you lied," I said, looking at him meaningfully. He sighed, just as I did, and stopped stroking my hair, sitting up and placing his feet on the floor again. His back was hunched with the truth of his words.
"I don't want him to know of the outside world unless his situation gets any better, he shouldn't know of things he will never see. Otherwise, that's just unfair, it would be torture. He will grow up not knowing until someone inevitably points it out, and when that time comes, he should be able to fend for himself."
I lower my gaze, my vision becoming blurred and misty as I realise what he meant. My son, my clueless, innocent, powerless son wasn't allowed to know of the treasures of the outside world. In the fear of the harshness of reality baring down. I think about when he'll find out what he is depicted as and why. "I understand," I said quietly.
"Good." He nodded and looked back at me, his posture stiffening at the sight of me, then relaxing as he crawled back onto the bed and wrapped me tightly into his embrace.
"He is strong-willed like his mother—he'll survive this world—I'm sure."
I smiled into his shirt. "And he's also observant like his father," I mumbled.
Ryuu smiled and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "See? Our son is more than ready for when the time comes." He murmured into my hair.