Chapter 13: Fried Chicken and Lies
Mother knew about the mission.
I could tell the moment I walked in the front door and smelled frying chicken.
It shouldn't have come as a surprise; the village is actually pretty good about that sort of thing, on balance. Missions which are likely to come with some psychological aftershocks are something we can take time with—for now, during peacetime.
There is something to be said for the more frenetic methods of desensitization. For throwing the pre-teens freshly admitted to the ninja force into the thick of it. For giving them no chance to fester or ruminate about the death.
It's the method I would have preferred, to be perfectly honest. I don't like having time to myself to think about… uncomfortable topics.
At any rate, if the ninja in question has a support system already in place, the Mission Office almost always sends a note to give the parents or extended family a heads-up to be extra supportive. It wouldn't do to let the investment the village has made by training us go to waste with a psychological breakdown after our first proper mission.
I was expecting it, though.
Honestly, "investigate" a bandit camp? As if a ninja ever just looked at bandits.
The fried chicken was a rare treat. Not something mother made often, for the smell has a tendency to seep into nearly everything. The bed linens would all need to be changed tomorrow, the house aired out to get rid of the greasy odor. She only put forth the extra effort for special occasions.
Well, I didn't mind anyway. I had the next two days on leave. Helping with the chores would be a chance to be with Mom for a bit longer.
"Hiroki? Is that you?"
"Hey, Mom."
Yuki poked her head out of the kitchen. Her lovely hair was pulled back into a messy bun to keep it from trailing in the food. She wiped her hands off on a kitchen towel and swatted a bit at the flour on her apron before pulling me into a tight hug.
"How's my little ninja?"
I couldn't help the fondly exasperated smile at her words. I was still pretty tiny; she got a free pass for now.
The thought pushed my mind to the future.
The realization hit me that I'll probably never be old enough to tease her back about calling me little while she's alive.
I gasped silently. I pulled her into an even tighter hug, holding back the tears which threatened to slip my control.
Mother has always been almost psychic about my mood, much to my confoundment. To her, my distress was transparent. She started rubbing soothing circles into my back and rocking me slightly back and forth.
"Hey, hey, it's okay sweetie. I know it's scary having to hurt someone. It's okay, Hiroki."
I pulled in a shaking breath, thankful for her misattribution of my distress. She thought I was upset about the mission. She didn't know I was upset about my own mortality.
And hers.
"I know, Mom. I know. I'm okay. It's just... It was so easy. It was so small."
I buried my face in her shoulder.
"And we're all just fragile things, like glass walking around, and one sharp tap is all it takes and... I'd never see you again."
"Oh, sweetie," she murmured, her voice warm and sure. "I'll always be here for you. Even if something happened, I'll always be here for you. Even if you can't see me, I'm still watching over you, and I always will be."
I forced a smile, keeping the glimmer of tears at bay.
But I knew the horrible truth.
I mouthed it silently into her hair as she picked me up and carried me into the kitchen, just like when I was a baby.
No, you won't.
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