Beard Bedewed

She’d forgotten why she was here. Was it to purchase more thread? No, that wasn’t it. Sayuri didn’t have any new orders to date, not to her knowledge anyway; but who knew if a customer unwittingly slipped through the cracks? There would need to be a better system for her ‘business’, so to say, better than what it was now. Just a bunch of scribbles hastily written down in a notebook, a notepad… a dirty napkin…?

Oh, that’s right… nobody ever wrote down anything. Sayuri had to commit it to memory, which, if now weren’t a prime example of it, wasn’t best practice. She had struggled so much in the Academy, what with heavy textbooks and endless pages of words, this should have come as no surprise. It probably also served as a reference point that she would likely forget once she went back home anyway.

With a light sigh, Sayuri actually started wondering to where she had wandered. It was a part of town she’d never stumbled across before and probably for the good of it too—“Shinpei territory” but the Minamoto matriarch didn’t know that just yet. She would find out soon though.

Nobody knew her here. They only stared, stared because of that fiery red mane of hers, something that provoked receded reaction from Sayuri. Each time, the woman would smile awkwardly with a bow of the head, laugh a little, and then shuffle away as quickly as she could. It was almost something extraordinary, the difference with which Sayuri acted in the presence of family and without. There was no confidence but given the right set of circumstances, foolhardiness could be coaxed to the surface.

One set of those ‘right circumstances’ was happening now actually. The nerve of some men, she thought. Was that anyway to court a woman?! Oh, she’d give him a piece of her mind—so mired in the spike of anger that she didn’t stop to realise this voice, that this particular voice should have been very familiar to her.

“Excuse me!” She shrieked in mid-turn. “But I’m happily married, thank you very much—”

Then a long and awkward silence and a sufficiently blank stare. No words. There were simply no words; as son looked to mother; as mother stared back toward son.

Sayuri could have reacted in a number of ways.

She could have scolded him: Is that really how you charm all of your girlfriends off their feet?!

She could have coyly played along, dragged him back home, and scolded him there: Why sure, won’t you join me for a drink when I tell you go to your room?!

Or even expressed disappointment: Did I really raise you to be like this?!

But no, none of those reactions would have sufficed. Instead, Sayuri flushed a light pink, followed by a hollow and nervous laugh. Nervous around even her own son but history dictated a distance that she didn’t foresee closing and that’s what separated them.

“Sh-Shinpei!” She stuttered. “How about some sake? Or have your tastes grown more refined, maybe some wine instead?” Sayuri smiled. It was an uncomfortable smile. Did she really just offer her own son any alcoholic beverage of his choosing?

Yes, she did.

“Or rather… I’m… I’m sure you have your own appointments to attend to. Don’t let me keep you.” A sigh, crestfallen, but Sayuri knew better than to push Shinpei more than he wanted to be pushed. The pull would be too much for her heart to bear again.

Nothing that he was looking for in a woman, much less a mother and he'd not been home in a while; she didn't want him to stay away. 

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Word count: 614

GP: 12

Total: 614 / 12

She was still reeling from embarrassment, the way pink still clung to brim of her cheeks. Calm down, she tried to tell herself. It was almost like a meeting of strangers—or rather, acquaintances, the type you ran into and always promised to catch up with over coffee but never did. Like that person you would take the roundabout way to avoid because small talk was uncomfortable and you never knew whether to greet one another in the streets or in a bookstore or a restaurant. It was that type of awkwardness, the inability to express sentiment, and to some degree, the desire to more easily just turn away.

Part of her wanted to give up, to send her son along his way, happy to have even seen him. That was the burden Sayuri had to bear as a parent, to always love no matter what, even if Shinpei hated her. And she wasn’t like Junpei in the way he had simply accepted the status quo between parent and son. Even if part of her realised that the effort was hopeless, Sayuri never gave up anyway.

Just in case, just for that moment when Shinpei might need her, that he would always know she would be there for him. Just for that moment, even if he turned away the very next second.

She never really knew why Shinpei began to drift away. She’d pressed him for answers in the past but that only made the boy withdraw even more, to the point where communication became near impossible. Today would be no different. They’d talk about superficial topics like the weather, things that didn’t involve expressing any sort of invasion of privacy.

After all, Sayuri was surprised that Shinpei accepted her offer at all. It was simply a practised effort by now, all other times he would have said no.

“E-eh?” A blank expression, surprise in her voice; part of her delighted; part of her nervous and yet another part, always sad because they would never move past this wall in the way.

The act of his reluctantly sighing, it was already proof enough that he’d rather be anywhere than here with her. So silently Sayuri obliged, no questions asked, trying to cherish the precious few moments that she would spend with her son. Treading carefully behind him, asking only generic questions, trying not to provoke him by perceived invasion.

“So… how have you been these days?” 

- - - - -

Word count: 406

GP: 8

Total: 1020 / 20 

Was she always this predictable? Had he seen her in this way from the start? There was never any sense of control with Shinpei, at least on her side. She couldn’t see, didn’t know what really set him off, and it was almost painful, the awkward strain between mother and son.

Silently, Sayuri sighed, walking behind Shinpei, stroking down her red hair in nervous habit. Talkative as she usually was, Sayuri didn’t want to clutter up the path that was already so closed off. Was it better to express herself in as few words as possible? But that neither made things right nor wrong. It confused her. Sayuri never knew how to act around Shinpei. Perhaps the answer was simple: act like his mother but wasn’t that one of the very reasons that he resented her so much? Because she was his parent. She didn’t just know.

Mentally at a loss, the redhead decided to simply smiled back, gently answering, “Same as always. Thank you for asking…” She trailed off. That was all she needed to say. Shinpei didn’t really want to know how his mother was these days. He never did. She’d try to make this situation as painless as possible for him, for the both of them.

And the stares, the stares were the worst, countered only by the hushed whispers behind closed doors. Well, not really. Sayuri could hear them too, the things that they said, the way they didn’t really seem like mother and son—more like strangers if anything, as if they didn’t know each other at all.

Amidst the tension of growing gossip and discomfort, though, was a surprising question from Shinpei—certainly not intended as genuine curiosity though. All the same, it made Sayuri laugh, just a small giggle to herself, contained and short, but the smile was real this time. Looking away as she shook her head, Sayuri remarked, “Just more like your father, I suppose, but I don’t think I’d change anything.” She meant it too; though Sayuri might have wished for more, if Shinpei was happy this way, then she would let it be.

As they rounded the corner, the redhead peeked inside Shinpei’s choice of location, almost tip-toeing inside with a small nod to the patrons and servers there. The pair was quickly ushered to a table of two but Sayuri knew that felt too private. Suggesting instead that they both sit at the bar, Sayuri motioned for just a glass of water for herself. “This is on me! Don’t be shy.” A small smile that soon fell off her lips. “Or if you’d like just a glass of water too. We don’t have to make this long…” 

There was just no right way for them to be. 

- - - - -

Word count: 459

GP: 9

Total: 1479 / 29

She inwardly balked at herself. Sayuri must have been getting predicable if even Shinpei was able to lightly joke around her. Certainly, they were both ‘fine' on the surface but hadn’t they really just become so good at telling lies? Because parents always told their children lies, little, white lies until they were old enough to know better; that Santa Claus existed somewhere in the North Pole or that the Tooth Fairy came to give you money in exchange for your fallen baby teeth at night. These were just the ‘little, white lies’ that parents told to try and protect their children but at what point did you stop lying?

At what point did children stop needing your protection? And really, the question that Sayuri desperately wanted to ask was at point did they go wrong, did she go wrong with Shinpei and Ayame? She’d never stop blaming herself, never would probably.

But just like that, Shinpei reminded her why children stayed your children even when they grew older. “Shin-Shinpei, be careful or you’re going to hurt yourself!” The admonishment slipped out before she could retract the words. Old habits were hard to break, it seemed. Her eyebrows creased with worry in her eyes but it would have pushing too much to go any further. Quietly, Sayuri straightened her back, clearing her throat with an apology, “I apologise for that. You’re a grown man now. I’m sure you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself.”

Awkwardly, Sayuri soon found her feet dangling from the bar stool, the petite woman almost resembling a child herself with her tiny frame unable to reach the ground. It was more than a little embarrassing and why the matriarch always hoped she was juuuust a little bit bigger.

She laughed to herself quietly, a little bit in disbelief and a little bit in humour. You shouldn’t be cheap, she wanted to say to Shinpei but this time, the redhead was much more in control with restraining unnecessary comments.

The bartender slid a cup of rice wine next to her glass of water, its aroma making Sayuri smile a little. Simple, but tasteful. She liked it. She swirled the cup around lightly, glancing over to her second-born son, mulling over his questions for a moment. “Oh, you know, Yui’s as rowdy as ever. She’s off doing whatever feels right to her. Seems like that’s just how all my children were born to be like.”

Sayuri gave a half-smile to Shinpei before silence quickly enraptured the distance between them. Now there was a question she thought he’d never ask. She would have be careful in her response. The longer the silence lasted, the more awkward it would get.

“Your father is… busy nowadays. I don’t see him at home as often anymore. He… hasn’t had much time to work on his carpentry lately.” Then inward panic, did that make it sound like Junpei had deserted her? It was clearly untrue, but sometimes the heart heard only what it wanted to hear. 

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Word count: 505

GP: 10

Total: 1984 / 39

She wished it could stay like this, occasionally meeting up with Shinpei over a drink or lunch, perhaps. Sayuri didn’t necessarily want to check up on her son. Mostly, she just wanted to make sure that he was alive. There was no telling when Shinpei would tick off just the wrong man by picking up his girlfriend or wife in a some dark hotel room. Seireitei was filled with more red tape than it liked to admit. Though a family prominent in Soul Society, the Minamoto weren’t Nobles, and that made them just that: just a family. She was sure they could have covered it up somehow.

But were things so bad between Shinpei and the family that Sayuri wished for even these uncomfortable meetings every once in a while? Probably—actually, she was deluding herself by thinking that. Yes, things were that bad between them and if the relationship between mother and son seemed strained, then sister and brother was nonexistent, father and son was even worse, and brother and brother was the worst. That’s how bad things had gotten.

How did it end up this way?

Sayuri couldn’t remember the last time Shinpei had treated her like a mother instead of a stranger. It had to have been when Ayame was still alive, when the twins were still young, before they receded into one another. Ayame would come running to her, tears streaming down her face, stuttering something incoherently about her brother. Shinpei would straggle behind, eventually showing up at the house covered bruises and scratches. The only thing he’d say was “They were mean to Ayame so I had to beat them up” before Sayuri would patch up his injuries like she always used to do.

Once upon a time, they still needed her then. Then the twins only needed each other and then Shinpei didn’t know what he needed anymore after Ayame was gone.

With a slight look of melancholy in her eyes, the matriarch quietly sipped some of her rice wine before setting down the cup lightly. Shinpei’s cup quickly followed suit but instead with a loud banging sound over the counter. Sayuri, startled and lost within thought, nearly fell from her barstool.

Words that she instantly regret. She should have never spoken the truth about Junpei. She should have known it would come to this. She should have known Shinpei’s reaction and all in all, Sayuri should have known better but now it was too late.

What to do now? She had a number of options but none of them seemed right. Lightly scold him for speaking about Shun like that. Simply gloss over his reaction and talk about something else. Or actually try to talk to her son about it.

Where were you when I needed my son, even if you didn’t need me anymore?

Smiling sadly at Shinpei, Sayuri simply whispered, “Nobody’s really around at the house nowadays, to be honest so it’s a little bit lonely for me…”

And suddenly, her family seemed just a little more broken than she wanted to admit. 

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Word count: 512

GP: 10

Total: 2496 / 49