Work Text:
"No, you don't understand."
"Then explain it to me, Nari... you never make sense to me, not when it comes to the topic of your mother." It was unsettling to Tighnari, hearing both the General Mahamatra and his dumbass boyfriend mixed into one. The sharp edge of a commanding officer, blended so imperfectly with the soft concern and mild frustration of a geek with a bleeding heart.
"I love my mother," he said, turning around to face his desk, various specimens lay atop it. He couldn't focus enough on them to properly identify each one. "She gave me life, raised me, taught me so much and provided for me." He grabbed a quill nearby, just toying with it.
Cyno remained silent throughout it all, hands crossed as he squeezed his upper arms in a self-soothing habit. He watched Tighnari's back, an uncomfortable sensation climbing up his spine as he stopped himself from fully falling into his work persona. This wasn't an interrogation, he just needed to wait it out.
Tighnari huffed, the ink spilling lightly on his fingertips in carelessness, his gloves discarded long ago. "How can I hate her when she gave me everything? Yet how can I not when she kept it under lock and key?"
"What are you talking about? What's with the riddles?" Cyno wanted to reach out, grasp his boyfriend's shoulders and give him all of the comfort he possibly could. But like an invisible wall, he was rooted into place, his limbs disobeying his thoughts.
A spark of annoying came across Tighnari's features. "I'm not trying to- ugh..." his ears drooped, his face morphing into a sad frown. "I don't know how to explain it to you otherwise. There's no... simple way to explain how I feel towards that woman."
"Nari..."
"She gave her life for me. She had me young, straight out of the Akademiya. But I don't think she wanted me." He stared at the black liquid coating his fingers, both itching to get it off of himself, and being too tired to move his body to grab the bottle of water sitting right there, in front of him. "I watched her play with other children. So gentle, so playful, so motherly...
And then I watched her be nothing but a strict mentor to me."
Cyno immediately wanted to say that he understands, that he gets it. But in reality, he wasn't really sure of what he understood and what he didn't. His memories of his childhood were fuzzy at best, and completely misleading at worst. "Your perception of her never changed?" He felt his mouth getting dry.
"No. Well- my understanding of my perception of her changed, but what I saw her as never did, if that makes any sense at all." He licked his lips, subconsciously reaching for the magnifying glass on his back. "She kept knocking down my self-esteem, any good I tried to do I got reprimanded for, any attention I wanted from her ended up in yelling, any minor mistake was met with such rage that... honestly, I felt like she would have rather had anyone other than me as a son."
"She was wrong." The General Mahamatra voice rang out strong, tinges of Hermanubis in his tone. "Don't you see yourself? What you achieved? How far you've gotten?"
The magnifying glass was a gift from Tighnari's mother, one he carries along with him dearly. After all, it's how it all started; his love for botany and research. But there was something so bittersweet about it, a painful reminder of who his mother could have been.
"Come on, Nari..." back to Cyno, his Cyno. "You have to know just how great you are. Look at Collei, who grew up under your wing, look at all of the forest rangers who depend on you and sing you endless praises... look at me, relaxed, in your presence."
"She loved everyone else so much more."
"She was this... angel to everyone around. Always helpful, always the one giving advice, always a caretaker, always a blessing from Celestia." He bit his lip, the wobble almost embarrassing, despite the fact that he was facing away from Cyno. "...What's so wrong with me?"
Not even a second passed, and Cyno's arms wrapped around Tighnari's shoulders, pulling him back into his chest. Tighnari flinched, "Ah, no-" his hands raising up to grasp the other's, but before he could even think, Cyno let go, taking a step back.
Tighnari wasn't sure what the reason was; the fact that someone actually heard him, and listened to his request, keeping comfortably close, and yet away. Or the fact that he got so overwhelmed with that damn woman's confusing emotions She loves me, she hates me, I finally made her happy, she's yelling again, she told me good job, she's criticising everything about me but Tighnari sobbed.
He collapsed onto the floor of his hut, the magnifying glass clattering on the ground beside him. It was embarrassing, it was wrong, what was he doing? He was supposed to have it together, he was supposed to be the one who had it all figured out and helped others. Instead, they all watched, seemingly perfect, every single one of them; as he struggled, silently. What kind of leader-
"Hey-" Cyno said above him, shifting his feet while completely unsure of himself. Usually, Tighnari would poke some fun at him, but now, he wasn't sure if to call for him, or to push him away. Cyno crouched down, hesitantly reaching a hand out to grasp Tighnari's chin, tilting it upwards to make eye-contact. "There's nothing wrong with you."
Tighnari shook his head. "I tried-" he hiccuped. "Every day I tried! Academics, sports, her interests..." he wrapped his arms around his torso. "She never seemed to care for how much work I put in! She was always unhappy! I don't- I don't know anymore!" He gasped, furiously wiping his tears away as Cyno tried to clumsily keep him from accidentally hurting himself.
"Who cares about her?" Hermanubis. "Look at yourself, how far you've made it on your own" General Mahamatra. "And just how many people you helped, and made happy." TCG obsessed Cyno.
"I'm not enough-"
"Nari..." Cyno shook his shoulders, slightly snapping him out of it. "You are everything," he said with such ease and conviction, as if it was really that easy.
Tighnari pulled away, and Cyno let him. He wouldn't be able to tell just how much time passed as they both sat there, unmoving, on the floor. Tighanri sniffled occasionally, wiping his tears as he kept his eyes away from Cyno, hoping he'd leave him alone to wallow in his misery, but unable to ask for it, his gaze instead fixated on the gift his mother gave him.
The magnifying glass lay there, its lens stained in ink.