When You Find It (Yaoi,LGBT,BL+18) ©

Chapter 12- Memories of the Past

The greenish forest made its way into the darkness with every step she took, sliding over it the white tabi she was wearing. She had left the small house where they slept so carried away by worry that she had left hers zōri behind, heading him way without them. The child, in hers arms, noticed how this took her toll on her every time hers face twisted as carelessly stepped on the small stones on the path that she was not able to avoid.

A/N

(Tabi from Japanese 足袋, are traditional Japanese socks widely worn with kimonos and generally white in color.

The zōri from the Japanese 草履 are flat Japanese sandals made of rice straw or other materials such as cloth, wood, rubber, among others.)

He hated it.

He hated himself.

He hated seeing her like this constantly because of him, for one reason or another. But she knew it. She knew very well what that sad look and the grimace on his mouth meant, however, she never blamed him. Instead, she kissed his forehead once again. And later his head, on those hairs that over the years had begun to get lighter and lighter, giving rise to shiny blonde hair that made her grimace with disgust.

She dispersed the bad thoughts that seeing it had produced in her with the wide sleeve of her white kimono, as if she could take them away, make them disappear. And although the reason was unknown to that little child, he felt comforted and warm, lying on his mother's chest, surrounded and protected by the arms of the only person he had ever known, and the only beautiful voice that his ears had heard listened.

The woman accelerated her steps little by little, impatient to reach the small traditional Japanese-style house in which they slept. It was old, worn out. It could assure that it was built many more years ago than the poor woman of about twenty-eight and the child of about six could add up between the two of them. Many of the wooden planks, both on the exterior walls and on the floors, had been eaten away for some time by the humidity with which the intense springs and summers of that country hit them year after year. The tatami inside had become more damaged and rough with each passing year and the leaks increased in number and density with the sudden, abundant and incessant rains that constantly shook the population.

The place where they slept was a disaster and an imminent danger, but it was his house, the place where he was born and had lived the few years of life he had.

Alone.

At the entrance, on the strings of wooden planks that surrounded the house on the foundation and supported by the large wooden beams, which raised the house and helped reduce humidity, she carefully released the child.

"Yuki," she knelt in front of him, delicately holding her hands. "You can't leave like this, without saying a word, do you know how much mom has worried?"

He could see clearly in front of him, hers face covered mostly by fear, not anger. Framing hers dark brown eyes are pretty, straight black eyebrows over light, pale skin. Moved by regret, he grabbed a jet-black lock of hers.

It was smooth, dark and long that, along with hers eyes, had made him wonder on many occasions why the woman he called "mom" didn't look anything like him. He was completely unaware of how other people must look, but between the two of them, the differences were more than noticeable, and the more he grew, the more he could see. The questions increased in number in his head when he looked at her, but he never will get around to letting her know. Only once, in an innocent and careless comment, did he bring his doubts to light. He didn't get any response beyond emphasizing that she was his mother, the person who had given birth to him six years ago and, furthermore, she had been angry with him for long hours.