Work Text:
Hiroko's foot hits the ground, then back up, down-up-down-up-down-up. It's a comforting mantra, and one she desperately needs right now.
"Only six out of sixteen survived... I don't know about your son..."
No.
No, Yasuhiro is alive. He has to be. She won't accept anything else.
She twirls the strings of her jacket around her fingers, not sure what she's expecting. The survivors are coming here soon, and she doesn't know what she'll do if Yasuhiro isn't one of them.
And in the distance-
"Mom!"
And they're hugging, and Yasuhiro's sobbing, and she's so damn relieved that she can barely breathe, because they're together and alive, and in this world, that's enough.