Chishiya x Reader Oneshots

Dear Mother

This one was commissioned by ​wondroushine. How Chishiya would take care of a reader who has lost someone very dear to them. Thank you for letting me write this ~

•♦•♦•

The special connection between a mother and a child is a tale as old as time. It is unbound by age or language, not even limited to the human race. Not for nothing have people always claimed that blood is thicker than water, and the love and hate that a family feels for each other can hardly be replaced by anything else.

In your past, you have not always felt love for your mother. Whenever she scolded you, irked you, or told you to stop, forbidding things that were fun and saying 'when you're grown up, you'll understand', you sometimes wished for someone else to replace her. But even back in those years you couldn't deny that whenever things got serious, she'd have your back. No matter what you did, your mother was there – to hold your hand and give you the support you needed.

Her presence was self-evident, not to be questioned, and she would always be there no matter what because while friends changed, family remained forever. That was until the day you stood at her grave, watching how her casket slowly disappeared in the earth. On that day, you realized that no matter how thick blood was, it could be just as evanescent as water.

And yet you couldn't understand it at first, couldn't grasp the emptiness that suddenly filled your life. Your mother was gone, but her ghost was still there – in her clothes, her furniture, pictures on the wall, her toothbrush in the bathroom. All those tiny things that hadn't left when your mother died, remnants of the life she had led, memories that you couldn't just throw away because it hurt too much to see them gone.

You knew that those trinkets didn't do you well. They were like wraiths, lingering over you, haunting you at night and preventing the sunlight to reach you at day. They were shadows that you couldn't see yourself, but others did. Most of them Chishiya, since he knew you best besides the mother that was now gone forever.

It was a week after your mother's funeral that a knock on the door made you raise your head from the lethargy you'd been in, and soon after, you heard soft footsteps approaching the couch you sat on. There was no need for you to look up; you would always recognize the shuffle of clothes and the hinted strawberry scent.

"I didn't let you in", you muttered as you snuggled back into your blanket, red and swollen eyes half-closed because they felt so heavy from crying.

A white hoodie was placed down on the armrest next to your head, and the footsteps walked off into the kitchen. However you could still hear Chishiya's voice, as casual as if this wasn't a time to mourn: "You should find a better place for your spare key."

You huffed, not even questioning why the blonde switched on the water kettle. "That knock was unnecessary, then."

"I'm not rude", he explained in between the clanking of mugs.

"You're not? Never? Give me paper and a pen and I'll make a list..."

Feeling exhausted, you quickly grew tired of talking. Truth was that you didn't want to see anyone at all. This was your time to grieve, and visitors were only interrupting that process. The only person you wanted to enter the room now was your mom, but it was the only person on earth who would never, ever walk through these halls again.

A mug was placed on the table in front of you, and you half-heartedly noticed its steaming content through blurred sight. You didn't want to drink anything now, no matter what it was. Ever since the day of the funeral, you hadn't been thirsty – you hadn't felt anything at all except sorrow. Oh, it wasn't fair that life took such an important person from you. If only there had been a chance to say proper goodbyes, or to make up for all the arguments and bickering of all those years.