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Mito squints under the assault of the morning sun as it filters through the window. It hurts her eyes, but at least it’s sunny. It’s rained every day this week, dark clouds twisting and dripping like wrung-out laundry.
There was a thunderstorm last night, loud and mighty, and instead of hiding his face in her chest and trembling all night long, Gon begged Mito to bring him outside to watch. They sat on the porch with Grandma, rocking back and forth in their wicker chairs, as lightning flashed across the horizon. Mito held Gon in her lap, arms around his waist, and taught him how to count the miles between their little home and the electricity shocking the distant hills. Gon seemed to like the lightning, even if the thunder made him jump. He said it was like a flashlight in the dark.
Mito kissed his head, and told him that he was her flashlight. She felt lost in this world before she brought him home, wandering without purpose. Grandma told her that it was just because she’s young. Maybe that’s true. Or maybe she was just waiting for her destiny to show up.
Her destiny cooed, cried, and wriggled in his blanket, and when she picked him up and held him close, it all became clear. This was what she was meant to do.
She finally opens her eyes and they adjust to the light. Gon squirms in her arms, still fast asleep, cheek pressed to her heart. Smiling, Mito gives him a squeeze and drops a kiss onto his soft hair. She’s woken up like this every morning for the past four years, and now she doesn’t remember what it’s like to be alone.
Gon opens one eye, and then the other. A wide, sleepy grin stretches across his face as he gazes up at her. “Hi, Aunt Mito!” he calls in a small, sleepy voice. He rubs his eye with his little fist and yawns.
“Good morning, Gon!” Mito sits up and pulls him into her lap. “And happy birthday!” She presses her cheek to his and takes a breath. She tries to ground herself in this moment, to remind herself that this is real, but sometimes it’s just…surreal. This is her baby. She’s eighteen, and she has a baby, and she wouldn’t change it for anything. Then, she turns her face and kisses him all over his fat little cheeks until he giggles and squirms.
“Aunt Mito!” He kicks his little feet, his giggle becoming a delighted little squeal as Mito blows a raspberry onto his cheek. Finally, she lets up. “That’s silly,” he announces, before climbing onto his knees. He puts his hands on her face and leans forward, pressing his lips to her cheek. He tries to blow a raspberry, but his mouth is too small, and it’s more of a wet sputter than anything else.
Mito lifts him up, up, up into her arms and climbs out of bed, holding Gon close to her hip. “You’re silly,” she counters as she shuffles into her slippers, “Now let’s get you some breakfast, hm? We should make something special, shouldn’t we?”
Gon nods with a hum. “Cake!” he demands, laughing and lifting his arms into the air.
“Cake?!” Mito shakes her head. “For breakfast?! You’re sillier than I thought!” She carries him down the stairs, taking his hand when he tries to lean out of her arms to grab the bannister. He’s such an adventurous little boy, always exploring and getting himself into all kinds of mischief. As soon as he learned to walk, it became very clear that he was going to need extra supervision. “Don’t you think we should save the cake for later? So you can have it with your presents?”
“Presents?!” His brown eyes, soft and sweet, go wide and his little mouth falls open. “For me?!”
They reach the bottom of the stairs and Mito sets Gon on the floor, but still keeps his tiny hand in hers. “Of course they’re for you! You always get presents on your birthday!”
Grandma is already up, sitting in the kitchen with her morning tea. Gon lets go of Mito’s hand and scurries her way, bouncing excitedly until she allows him to climb into her lap.
“Hi, Grandma Abe!” He swings his feet and gives her a big smile before leaning forward to kiss her wrinkled cheek.
Abe ruffles a hand through his hair and grins. “Happy birthday, little one! Do you feel any different?” she asks, clearly quizzing him, “Do you feel older? Taller? Wiser?”
Thoughtfully, Gon tilts his head. “Hmm…nope!”
“Grandma, don’t tease him,” Mito tuts fondly as she opens the fridge. She sifts through it for ingredients that she won’t need for the cake, and pulls out a loaf of bread and a jar of preserves. “How does toast and jam sound?”
“GOOD!” Gon yells happily, “Aunt Mito, you’re the best cook ever!”
She laughs as she cuts the bread into slices. “I doubt that, but thank you, Gon.” She turns her head and shoots a playful glance at her grandmother. “I learned from the best—ow!” The tip of the knife pokes her in the thumb and she tears her hand away, inspecting it for any blood. Thankfully, there isn’t any, but Gon still scurries over worriedly.
“Are you bleeding, Aunt Mito?” he asks as he tugs on her sleeve, trying to get her to bring her hand down. She gives him her hand and wiggles her thumb.
“Nope! It was just a little poke.”
Gon takes her hand and sticks out his thumb.“Chuu!” He kisses the tips of their thumbs together, laughing. “See? All better!”
Mito gives his cheek a pinch. “Thank you, Gon! It doesn’t even hurt now!”
He lingers by her as she makes the toast, occasionally tugging on the hem of her nightgown to get her attention. He asks her where bread comes from, and where jam comes from, and why strawberries are red. She doesn’t always have an answer to his questions, especially when he asks her so many, but she tries her best. After spreading some jam onto the toast, she kneels down and gives him a pat on the head.
“Why don’t you go sit down with Grandma, and I’ll bring you your toast, okay?” she offers, dropping a kiss onto his forehead. He smiles at her, and something in her heart begins to overflow. I love you, she thinks as she watches him waddle across the kitchen and climb into his chair, I love you more than anything.
Sometimes she feels guilty when she looks at him—like she’s denying him a relationship with his father by raising him, but Ging made his choice. Ging gave him up. Ging chose to not be a part of Gon’s life, and Mito plans to try her damnedest to make sure Gon never feels like he’s missing out. She’s going to give this kid so much goddamn love that he’s never going to need to wonder what could’ve been.
“Cover your eyes,” she tells him as she pulls a box of candles from the cabinet. She turns to look over her shoulder and sees him with his eyes squeezed shut. “Cover them, Gon. No peeking!” Mito laughs when Gon brings his chubby little hands up to his eyes. “Very good.” She sticks a candle into Gon’s toast and lights it with a match. She turns around and steps carefully towards the table, hand cupped around the flame to protect it.
Abe nods and clears her throat.
“Happy birthday to you,” the two of them sing as Mito carries the plate over. Gon gasps happily and wiggles in his seat, “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Gon!” Mito sets the plate down in front of him and kisses his cheek. “Happy birthday to you!”
Gon opens his eyes and gives them a smile so big that it takes up half his face. “Yay! Thank you!”
“Blow out your candle, dear boy,” Grandma reminds him.
Mito sets a hand on his chest to keep him from leaning too close to the flame. “And make a wish!” Gon sucks in a deep breath, filling up his cheeks with air. Then, with a whoosh, he forces it out towards the candle. The light flickers, but roars back to life. “It’s okay! Try again!” He takes a bigger breath this time, and manages to blow out the candles. Mito claps and praises him, and gives him a faceful of kisses. “Good job!”
“What did you wish for?” Abe asks as she lifts her teacup back towards her face.
Gon crosses his arm. “Not telling!” he announces with a huff, “Then it won’t come true.”
“I made a wish for you too,” Mito replies as she plucks the candle out of the toast, “But I won’t tell you what it is either.”
I wished that you’ll always be happy. I wish that you’ll always feel loved.
Even if she says what it means, she knows it’ll still come true.