Work Text:
Haruse Tsuwamono's earliest memory of his stepfather was shortly after the Scions' return from Ultima Thule. He was a young boy, just shy of three summers, yet he immediately sensed the state his mother was in. Iriko Tsuwamono, the Warrior of Light, had nearly died defending the universe. Haru hadn't understand what that meant at the time, but he knew things very bad.
So bad that her room was swarming with visitors and weird people dressed in white. Whenever Haru could see her, he knew his mother was tired. She always smiled for him, and patted him on the head. But her hair hung in clumps and her eyes no longer shone like this once did. Someone had told him she had lost part of her tail, and she had to rest until it grew back.
There was one particular day he had stopped by and saw how frail she looked. She would grit her teeth, and force a smile for him. Even when he was little, Haru knew she was in a great deal of pain.This hurt the the boy, and he began to cry. His aunt had begun to comfort him, but Haru locked eyes with the other able-bodied adult in the room. They locked eyes, steel grey against sky blue, and Haru shook away his tears.
"Please protect Mama!" He begged the elezen. "Keep people away from her so she can get better! I don't wanna have her get hurt!"
The man seemed stunned but nodded. He had knelt to gently pat him on the shoulder. "Fear not, I will keep her safe."
And kept his word he did. For the weeks until Iriko was released from bedrest, the white-haired man leaned over the door, keeping a careful eye on anyone who dared to enter.
The fact the dragoon took his vow meant everything to Haru, and set a precedent for when he began dating Iriko. The boy had no complaints, and instantly took a liking to him.
This man was none other than former Azure Dragoon, Estinien Varinleau.
In the years that followed, the former Scion would treat Haru as if he were his son. Not that Haru minded. He loved going on adventures with Estinien, the man took him to see many things, such as dragons, wyrms, and some Beast Tribes that Haru’s mother had a positive relationship with. Through this, Haru learned much about the world, far beyond most by the time he reached his fifth name day.
But despite this bond, Haru always longed to know more about his birth father. The details he knew about him were few and far in-between. Between his light blue eyes and strong nose, he was told he greatly resembled his father. They too shared a passionate love for Chocobos and sweets, something Iriko once mentioned in passing. But Haru ached for more, craved it. Yet he didn’t dare ask out of respect for his mother’s feelings. The last thing he wanted to do was make her sad.
It was during Haru’s sixth winter when everything changed. Haru was in his room, reading a book about adventurers when he heard the upstairs door creak open. He ignored it at first out of desperation to finish this chapter.
"Haruse?"
Haru sat up immediately alert at the mention of his full name. Without a second thought, he quickly tossed his book aside. "Mama!" He cried out as he flung himself from his bed to wrap his arms around her waist.
She hugged him back tightly, kissing him on the forehead “Hello, my little bean. What have you been up to today?”
“I’ve been reading this new book about adventurers that Uncle Raha got me!” The boy eagerly reached for his tome, flipping over the book to show her the cover.
“Tales of Derring Do, Volume V...” Iriko read aloud before returning her eyes back to her son. “What kind of stories are in that book?”
“There are all kinds,” he answered as his ears wiggled. “The one I was just reading was about a man who banded together a group of friends to fight off a Calamity.”
“That sounds like it was a very good story,” Iriko spoke with a smile.
The boy narrowed his eyes, noticing what was in his mother’s hands. It was a sack, brown and made of burlap, that had many items inside of it. “What’s in there, Mama?”
“Ah, that,” she began. “I was hoping you could come upstairs and help me with something.”
Haru cocked his head to the side, hoping to hear more. But when his mother didn’t provide additional information, he supposed he might as well entertain her request. So he followed her up the stairs, eager to assist her with whatever this ‘something’ was.
When they reached the kitchen, Haru’s eyes found the kitchen counter with all sorts of food stuffs, wincing when he noticed the jug of milk. He loved his mother dearly, but he feared for his life every time she cooked. "Am I being punished?"
"Heavens no," she laughed. "I was hoping you could help me make a drink."
He scanned over the laid-out ingredients. Milk, heavy cream, sugar, maple syrup, salt, something called cardamom, and lots of chocolate. Haru frowned. "But you and Papa don't like sweets."
"But you do," Iriko replied. "and I am almost certain you will enjoy this."
Haru shrugged, not yet deterred from the task. “Where’s the recipe?”
“Right here,” Iriko pointed to a small leather journal far from any of the other items. The cover was scuffed, and the pages were stained yellow. The book was definitely damaged, but it was clear that whatever was in there was important.
“First we need to bring up the pan to a suitable temperature,” she began as she lit the fire. “Can you handle measuring the ingredients?”
“Okay!” Haru ran to grab his step stool. While he was tall for his age, he still struggled to reach the counter and see everything in full view. He leaned towards the recipe book, glancing over the page. He grabbed the jug of milk, immediately feeling the weight in his tiny hands as he held onto the glass. Iriko quickly walked over, tearing off the lid and placing her hands on either side of the container for Haru to pour into the bowl.
“What is the next ingredient, Haru?”
“The recipe says heavy cream,” he replied as he got a smaller measuring cup. Iriko untwisted the lid to the specified container, and poured it into the cup. Once it was filled to the brim, Haru proceeded to dump it into the bowl.
After the remaining ingredients were put into the bowl, his mother handed him a whisk. While his strokes were clumsy at first, he remained careful to not fling the mixture all over the place.
“So what’s this drink, anyhow?” Haru asked as she poured more ingredients into his bowl.
“It is hot chocolate,” his mother’s smile grew strained, her voice unusually hesitant. “While this is a delicacy from Ishgard, this is the recipe I am most fond of.”
“Ishgard?” He repeated. “Isn’t that where Papa is from?”
“Indeed,” she nodded.
Haru paused, gingerly pulling the whisk away. "Is it really cold there?"
"Very," Iriko replied. "There is snow year-around up there."
"Woah, I wanna go see!" Haru exclaimed.
The Au Ra chuckled uneasily, the same sound she always made when she was uncomfortable. This made the boy freeze up and become unusually quiet. Now that he thought about it, his parents never took him to Ishgard. His family from there always came to visit them in Kugane, never the other way around. Haru loved his parents, he knew that much. And while he adored his mother's side of the family, he always stood out among them. While he had a few ivory scales on his cheeks, instead of horns Haru had pointy Elezen ears. Scales also covered his body, but the patches were smaller, and he very disappointingly didn't have a tail. If he wore a long-sleeved shirt, pants, and a mask, he would easily pass as an Elezen boy.
Haru felt frustration building up inside of him. Why wouldn't they tell him anything?
"We shall see," Iriko said.
He frowned, but nodded. If he waited this long, he could wait a little longer. Haru would learn more about his father and his culture, and if a hot chocolate recipe was the key, then so be it.
Yet Haru's patience would only last a pitiful eight seconds. Before he could think better of it, he blurted out, "If this is a standard drink for Papa's people, then why has he never made it for us?"
His mother’s face fell, and Haru swore she aged another ten years. “Because up until recently, no one had the ability to stomach looking through his belongings to find the recipe.”
“His...?” He trailed off.
"Your father made it best."
Immediately, he knew she wasn’t talking about Estinien. “So this is his recipe?”
She confirmed with a nod. Haru was dumbfounded. He knew there was something more going on, but he didn’t expect this. Haru was visibly taken aback. Finally, his mother was finally providing him an opportunity to learn about his father. While he wanted to ask why she didn’t tell him as they started, her expression said it all. She looked like she did all those times she spoke of her fallen comrades and recounted tragedies from her time as the Warrior of Light. Tired, and appearing much older than her nearly thirty-three summers.
So instead, he wrapped his arms around her middle and squeezed her tight. “So why is it so good?”
“Because he always made it with love,” she spoke quietly.
“Eww,” Haru stuck his tongue out. “That sounds so corny!”
“But it is the truth,” she patted him on the shoulder as she began to chop up the chocolate. “He cared very much for the people around him. So much so that he made it a point that his guests were greeted with fresh-made food and a warm hearth.”
Haru watched the bar of chocolate be slowly reduced to small blocks and splinters. “Even for those passing through?”
“Especially for passerby,” she set down the knife, putting it aside as she reached for the cutting board. “Actually, it was how we met.”
“Really?” He asked.
She took in a deep breath as she let the chopped chocolate spill into the pot. “When I first became an Adventurer, some of my friends had gotten captured by the Garleans. We needed a very special aircraft in order to rescue them, but we had no idea where to find such a ship. So through some tips we had received, we went to Coerthas. Our journey led us to Camp Dragonhead, where we met for the first time and I asked for his assistance.”
“Was he handsome?”
“Extremely,” she replied, a strange cloud covered his mother's eyes. Haru wasn't sure of what it was, but he saw it when Y'shtola spoke of her time in the First, or when Uncle Urianger recounted memories with his friend Moenbryda. Haru didn't quite understand it, but he believed the correct word was 'longing'.
Yet, his ears perked up while he proudly smirked. “Then in that case, when I grow up, I too, will be extremely handsome!”
This managed to make Iriko laugh. “You already are, my love,” she said while pulling him in for a side hug.
Haru couldn’t help but answer her compliment with an even wider smile. “So what else did Other Papa do?”
“Let’s see here...” she trailed off. “Quite a few things, as a matter of fact. In addition to being a commander, he was also a notorious knight. It was his dream since he was a boy to become one, and he received his title before he hit his growth spurt.”
“Halone’s Fury!” Haru exclaimed. “I thought only old people got knighted!”
“Oh no, Haurchefant was seventeen when he fought three grown men to protect Uncle Francel-" Iriko began.
Then her voice faded in her throat. She covered her mouth and turned away, hiding her face from view. Haru flinched at her sudden movements, shrinking back as he watched her. Yet, she moved not a single ilm, her stillness making his heart start thumping. While Haru had seen his mother upset before, he never recalled seeing so to this degree.
“Mama?” He hated the wavering in his voice, and straightened his posture.
“Forgive me, my bean...” she spoke barely above a whisper. "It appears yet an old wound still stings fresh."
"Are you sad?" He asked softly, placing a hand on the small of her back.
"Yes, but I will get through it." her voice sounded tight before she cleared her throat.
Up until this moment, Haru wasn't sure what happened to his birth father. No one shared much aside from he was no longer here. It was only then he realized there was a permanence in it.
Was his father dead? Haru had a vague understanding of what death was. Only recently did Iriko and Estinien have to explain it to him after a classmate's parent had passed. For the following weeks, his classmate remained sad and during class would frequently cry. The same grief his classmate expressed was reflected back by Haru's mother, albeit differently.
Haru bit back the urge to ask more questions. While his curiosity made it almost unbearable, in the end he thought better of it. Haru had no desire to cause his mother further distress.
He was disturbed from his thoughts when he heard his mother breathe in through her nose. "My apologies..." she sighed, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. "I still struggle to grasp the idea that you will never get to know him yourself."
"You really loved him, didn't you?" Haru asked as he hugged his mother. "That's why you're sad, right?"
Iriko nodded. "Everyone adored him. He was a great man, Haru. And if you grow up to be anything like him, then I have succeeded as a mother."
Something wasn't computing right for Haru, and it wasn't because he was getting distracted by the scent of cocoa. "But do you love Papa any less?"
Iriko immediately shook her head. "Not at all."
"Yet you still love Other Papa too?" She nodded, and Haru proceeded to rub his temples. "I don't understand. How is that possible?"
"The relationship I have with him does not compare to what I had with your... Other Papa," she began slowly, pausing thoughtfully. "Not in a bad way, of course. It is just different."
"Different how?"
"You love your toy ships, right?" She asked. Haru nodded. "Is the reason why you love each ship the same?"
He firmly shook his head. "No."
"Then there you have it," Iriko faced her son to kiss him on the forehead. "every person you will love, you shall love them a little differently. And not necessarily in the romantic way."
She carefully placed a hand over his heart. "As long as you feel it here, that is what matters most."
Haru placed his tiny hand over his mother's, feeling the back of her scaley hands against his own. For a second, something began to register in him. Perhaps he understood what she meant, this ability to share love. To spread his abundance with the world, and strive to see man achieve greatness. Maybe that was why his father became a knight. Maybe it was that simple after all--
His thoughts were interrupted by a pot threatening to boil over. Iriko rushed from Haru’s side and scurried back to the stove. Luckily, she made it over in time and managed to not put their hard work to waste.
The boy couldn't help but chortle. For a second, he wondered if this batch would turn out good after all.
He shook his head. Despite everything, he was certain he would.