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Shiki has always known there were people who hated his mother and that, by extension, some of that hatred has trickled down to him.
It’s evident in the sneers, the snubs, the whispers that follow in his wake.
“Didn’t you know? He’s her child.”
The first time he mentions this to his mother, she goes very, very still. Her face tightens and he wonders if she’s angry.
But instead, she pushes the hair away from his face, cupping her hand to his cheek, before she pulls away from him, expression pained.
“Akito…” His father has heard everything.
She doesn’t say anything, just shuts herself off in her room, leaving Shiki to wonder if he did anything wrong.
His father doesn’t shed any light on the situation. “She just gets like that sometimes,” he says cheerfully, patting Shiki on the head, but his face doesn’t match his voice. “You didn’t do anything.”
But his eyes are dark when he looks down the hall and Shiki wonders.
Did he do something after all?
/
She gets angry sometimes- not at him, never at him.
Most of the time, she looks at him as though she’s afraid she might break him if she speaks too loudly.
She leaves the house sometimes and she’s gone for hours.
It’s when she comes back that Shiki sees the anger on her face.
He knows these are the times to keep quiet, which is something he’s become very good at. These are the times where he retreats to his little corner of the house and waits.
He tries his best to keep himself occupied during these times, but his heart races too quickly for him to settle down and so he sits on his hands, biting his lip, and waiting for things to go back to normal.
He catches snippets of their conversations, pieces of a puzzle he can’t put together.
“... never change.”
“No matter what I do, it's all just…”
He doesn’t know what they’re talking about, but something about his mom on these days scares him.
“ She was there.”
Whenever she is mentioned, a chill he rarely hears creeps into his mother’s tone and things get weird between his parents.
Shiki hugs his knees to his chest.
/
Shiki likes the time he spends with Mom the most.
She’s so busy all the time, trying to make everyone happy, that these moments together are rare.
He sits in her lap and rests his head against her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart.
Her fingers card through his hair.
Shiki’s fingers are wrapped in her blouse, desperate to hold onto this time with her.
They don’t speak often. There’s never much to say.
“You both are so quiet.” Dad sighs regretfully, letting his arms drape over the back of the chair he’s lounging in.
“You talk enough for the three of us, Shigure.” His mother is irritated now, Shiki notes uncomfortably.
He shifts, not wanting to see them fight, but doesn’t leave his mother’s lap.
This sort of thing is common between them.
His father flaps a hand carelessly in the air. “My, my, but if I didn’t talk, the atmosphere would be insufferably boring. I’m languishing away.” He eyes Shiki, expression thoughtful. “Maybe we could let him play outside…?”
Mom’s arms around him tighten. “No…” There’s a tightly coiled energy in her mannerisms that Shiki doesn’t understand and it sets him on edge. All he knows is that something has his mother uneasy and that frightens him.
“It’s only the front yard. Do you really think…?”
Shiki doesn’t know what they’re talking about. He doesn’t find out either because a glare from Mom makes Dad shut his mouth.
/
There are voices outside.
Loud ones.
Angry ones.
Shiki doesn’t recognize most of them, but among them, he hears his mother.
“Mom…” He slides the shoji door open and peeks out carefully, keeping himself hidden.
His mother has her back to him- she’s gesturing angrily at the tall, slender woman who stands before her.
He’s never seen this woman before, but he wonders if she’s somehow the she that his parents have referenced.
There’s an air of menace about her, her features twisted in anger.
They aren’t the only two gathered out front in the courtyard, but they’re the only two Shiki has eyes on.
“You took him from me!”
A pit has opened up in his stomach.
He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t understand this- why are they here and what do they want?
The woman’s hand slips into her obi.
“Mom!” He can’t stay where he is any longer. He bursts from his hiding place behind the shoji and runs towards her.
“Shiki…!” His mother half-turns- the alarm in her voice makes him falter.
The woman withdraws her hand and he sees a glint of metal flashing in the sun.
It all happens in an instant.
The woman lunges forward with a snarl.
“No!” Mom throws her arm out, stepping defensively between the two of them.
She cries out, pained, and then Shiki collides with her, throwing his arms around her leg.
He presses his face against her. “Mom!”
It all devolves into chaos after that.
The woman tries to come at them again, but other people have come, attracted by the noise.
They latch onto her arms and drag her back, but not before Shiki sees her face.
She looks like Mom.
They’re all so loud.
The woman is screaming at them, words that don’t make any sense to Shiki. Her face is scrunched up, twisted with so much hatred she looks almost inhuman.
Somewhere in the middle of it, Mom scoops him up, pressing him to her chest.
He doesn’t want to see the bad woman anymore and he clings to Mom, gripping the front of her kimono tightly.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She repeats it, over and over, cradling him, her hand cupping his neck, as she carries him, as fast as she can, into the house.
Shiki buries his face in her neck. “Mom…” he sobs. “Mom!”
She drops into a chair.
There’s blood on her arm. He didn’t realize she’d been cut.
“Mom, your arm,” he whispers, horrified.
“It’s okay.” She only holds him tighter. “It’s okay.”
He doesn’t know how long they sit there, her arms around him.
“What’s going on?” Dad steps in, voice cheerful.
He catches sight of them both, tear-stained and bloody, and his expression changes.
“What happened?”
“Shigure,” Mom cries, rising to her feet.
Shiki slides to the ground, but keeps hold of her kimono, sticking to her side.
Mom turns to Dad, tearful and angry. She clutches at his sleeves. “We can’t… That woman… She tried to kill him.”
Dad takes her by the arms. For once, he’s serious. “You need to slow down,” he tells her.
“Don’t… Don’t tell me to slow down!” She waves her arm wildly. “She would have hurt him!”
Shiki hiccups, hiding his face from Dad’s scrutinizing stare.
“Akito, your arm…”
Mom reaches defensively to cover her arm. “I told you…”
“And I heard you,” he says gently. “But we need to look at that at least.”
“But Shiki…”
He steers her into the bathroom, Shiki trailing behind them. “Did she hurt him?”
“No, but she…”
“Then let’s take care of this, alright?”
She sits down on the toilet and lets Dad roll her sleeve up.
Shiki falters when he sees the blood, but Dad speaks before he can panic. “It isn’t deep, but there’s a lot of blood.”
Mom hisses when he dabs disinfectant onto the wound.
Dad sets the cotton ball down. “It wouldn’t hurt to let Hatori look at this.”
“No,” Mom says, a little too quickly. “I’m fine.”
“Akito…”
“Let it go, Shigure.” Mom’s not quite looking at Dad anymore.
Shiki tumbles forward, throwing his arms around her. Mom softens immediately, fingers sinking into his hair and stroking his head.
Dad sighs. “At least he’s alright.”