momma's always right

She could see the look of startle behind his silver gaze, past that mask that he wore so well. She was his mother, after all, and while they had never had the best relationship she bore that title with pride. She’d kept him close as a pup as the only survivor of her litter of 8, tucked safely against her side so she could keep her eye on him. At least until he’d been a few months old and deciding for himself (with the commanding of his father) that he was ready to take on the world. Kiyo had always watched him from a distance, a ghost just as he’d thought, but it hadn’t been her choice. She’d cheered him on from the shadows, keeping to the sidelines afraid of a misstep both because of her husband, but also because she was weak. Embarrassingly so, and Hanzo didn’t need that from her. He wouldn’t survive in their world if he had a thin skin, she had been barely making it as was.

The woman watched as he bowed low, her neck reaching forward to press her chin against his crown with the lightest of touches, her gaze soft as she blinked back the rest of her tears. She retracted as he rose, speaking in common tongue and she blinked in confusion. Why wasn’t he speaking in Japanese? Her silver gaze slid to Venom, who stood to the side, momentarily forgotten in their reintroduction and she remembered the news she had just given. “Why don’t we move somewhere warmer,” she suggested, clearing her throat gently at the emotional rasp that caused it to tremble. The expectant mother deserved to be in more comfortable conditions, and Kiyo needed to think on how to explain everything to her son.