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So much for not being angry. So much for being calm and rational. Hasn't even a full ten minutes since we've reunited and already I was on the brink of a full-on temper tantrum.

It's not uncommon for your typical family reunion to start with some hugs and kisses on both sides. It is, however, uncommon to be seeing red at the mere sight of a loved one. 

The last time I even laid eyes on her, I remembered I was bidding her a tearful farewell from her bedside, stroking a frail, pale hand… assuring her that I'll be just fine living on my own.

Then I remembered I was outside, waving goodbye at her from the bedroom window, I remembered how gaunt she looked, how her eyes were a blink away from fading into unconsciousness. Still, somehow she managed to smile back at me and wave a hand back.

Mom was like a haven for all sorts of illnesses. It's like every other day, my sister and I would wake up in the morning just to be greeted by the sound of coughing and sneezing. The worst was always hearing her struggle to breathe, having to hear a painful muffled wheeze from behind her bedroom door does not a happy ten-year-old make.

It's not as if I can just go barging into her room either. Every time my sister or I even tried to, Dad would always be there peeking through the gap in the doorway like a vigilant bulldog on eternal guard duty. 

His standard response was that he didn't want us catching whatever new illness she's being plagued by this time, and the rare few exceptions when did get to pay some bedside visits, the entire room would be shrouded in darkness, you had to also keep an eye out for crumpled tissue balls scattered on the floor, the wrinkling sound of blister packets would also be quite a commonplace ambiance there.

We just sorta accepted that Mom would always be under the weather for like half of the month, every month. And it wasn't even as if she was stricken down with some terminal disease - no, mom wasn't terminal. She was just always very, very ill.

Always pale-skinned, always tired, always with hands so delicate and frail. That's how it was back then… and that's how it is now as well. Her left hand, still so pale, still so frail, clutched the collar-end of her dress. Those jet-black eyes lingered a gaze that looked to have never seen a day's rest in quite so long.

I know that stare, that unhealthy color of her skin. She was sick… again.

The moment I laid my eyes on her, I already knew. I just… couldn't find it in me to care that much. Maybe in time, I will care, maybe I'll feel like absolute shit about it looking back… but for now, just damn it all.

My screams didn't care about that now. 

"You've any idea what I've gone through because you chose to keep me in the dark?!" 

No one dared to interrupt, nobody even wanted to speak. To me I didn't care about anyone, I didn't see anyone. All I saw was her, my mother… and I couldn't turn away.

"Because you lied, all the things I had to struggle with? And when I did find out the truth, when I finally learned what you and dad really were, what the hell did you do? You still kept me in the dark, still had me go through all sorts of shit. Now look where we are - look at what's happened, look at the world! Do you even know what the hell is going on?!'

She spoke out. "Yes, I do. That's why I'm here now. I wanted to - "

"Too late!" I shouted again. "Too little, too goddamn late. You can't just swoop in like this and think I'm just going to be okay with it - do I look like I'm okay with it?"

"I know… I know, dear," Mom's tone stayed gentle, always so soft-spoken. "See, your dad and I, we… we didn't want you or your sister to be a part of this."

"I've been a part of this ever since I was born!" I said, then for some reason, chuckled, smiled… I almost could feel the contempt in the curl of my lips. "Did you know I'm a Speaker? I hear it's pretty rare. Y'know how I found out? Y'know what it took for me to find that out?!"

"A Speaker…" Mom raised a hand to her lips, her voice breathless. "Oh my…"

It was sick, it was twisted… I didn't know why I was feeling so satisfied seeing the horrified look on her face. I hate that this was my catharsis, I hate that it felt so good.

"So you didn't know," I remarked, scoffing still with that ugly sneer. "Or wait, maybe you did know, maybe you're just lying that you didn't. Maybe you being shock is just another lie too."

The shake of the head, soft eyes that pleaded to the contrary. "It isn't."

"How would I know?" I snapped again. "By trusting you? Believing you? Can I? Should I? After everything?"

These aren't the questions I wanted to ask, these weren't the things I wanted to say. So why was I saying them? Why were there so many? I wanted to stay composed, I wanted to keep to the logical.

She hid from me, yes. She lied to me, yes she did. But there was a good reason for it, wasn't there? You had to have good reason. There had to be - our ordinary life had to mean something, didn't it? Didn't it, Mom?

Why else did you look so guilty, why else would there be distraught? You'd only be showing that if you actually cared - and I knew that you did. That's the one thing I was certain that wasn't a lie.

I already knew this, it was a conclusion I've arrived at long, long ago. I just didn't care about any of that now. It was hard to listen to the rational, when you had all this resentment teeming inside you for God knows how long now.

Thought I could keep it in, try to hide it in a straight face - but I wasn't as good a liar as she, it seems. After all, she was the one that taught me to be honest… and this was me now being honest.

"I love you," I said, the first words in a while that didn't strain my voice, spoken in a low whisper. "But right now, I just hate you."

That was it. I said my piece, everything I wanted to say has been said, and I wanted to hear nothing more. I didn't care, I didn't want to care - I stopped, screw everything, all the things I wanted to know, I lost all the drive to ever know them.

Keep your secrets. Keep your everything. If you don't want me to know, then I won't know. Exactly as you wanted. I'm gone. I'm done. I'm leaving.

I walked away… or I tried to anyway, anger kind of drifted the throbbing in my leg out of my head, as a result, my first step nearly stumbled me to the ground. 

Luckily, I caught myself before I did, but there was some present that had thought otherwise. Ash was by my side again in the blink of an eye, arms midway reaching for me. So was Irene, though not as fast… and also not as close.

There were another pair of arms that reached for me -  slender hands that darted into sight as I raised my head up. Frail, delicate fingers… Mom slowly retracted them. 

See that, my angry irritation self? She does care.

Apparently, I still didn't.

I continued on, limping, brushing past her all the way till I reached the foot of the stairs. Amanda was a frozen statue in the corner of my eyes - she was essentially that girl caught in the middle of an argument between her friend and her friend's mom. I can sympathize with her position… wanted to apologize silently, but I think the glare on my face would have conveyed something else entirely.

Hand on the handle, I trudged upwards, pain be damned… I just wanted out and I wanted out quick. I heard a patter feet somewhere from behind, Mom again probably… and I snapped again.

"Don't follow me."

That was that. The footsteps stop.

I reached the second-floor hallway as fast as a limped leg would get me, from there I didn't stop till I reached the doorway of my bedroom. I gripped the handle tight, swinging it violently enough that it threatened to break loose from its socket.

Stumbled again, taking steps unbalanced into the open doorway. 

Adalia tossed herself to the side, a muffled moan escaping from closed lips.

Nearly forgot someone took temporary residency on my bed. Was counting on stuffing myself in a pillow, and never leaving it for an indefinite amount of time. Can't really do that with a Matriarch sleeping soundly on your mattress, can you?

There goes my only way to cope.

Seeing her there felt like I was back downstairs. In a way, aside from Amanda, everyone so far had connections to my Mother. 

Ria had met her at some time in her long life.

Irene knew her as the evil Goddess that ruled over everything. 

Ash served her gaming counterpart… or would have come to serve her. I don't know… it's a bit finicky there.

Jay, the grief-stricken Magus, knew my mother as the sole reason everything he knew has fallen to ruins. 

And as for Adalia and Amelia… well, I guess they did play hide and seek with her ever so often.

All this, so many things worth questioning. They all took a backseat to my outrage. It wasn't unproductive one bit.

But what do I care? She evidently wanted me to not, so I won't.

I took a seat at the foot of the bed, the one place Adalia hadn't yet to occupy, and I just sat and stared… eventually, I just stopped thinking.

I'm so damn tired.

Suddenly, the door clicked shut. I don't remember swinging it close. 

Thought I said don't follow me…

I looked up, hands balled into fits, breath heaving for a shout, only to be met by the glow of emerald eyes, the sway of long white hair breezing from the wind of an open window.

"Ash…"

Silently, she unclasped the door handle and after bowing once, simply stood there in place.

Her I didn't mind so much. Anybody else, and I think I'd have ignored them… but with Ash, it was just different. Talking to her felt so easy to do nowadays. 

"Shouldn't have yelled, should I?" I said, sighing. "I know. I should have handled that better."

"It's understandable," She responded back.

I shook my head. "Doesn't make it right."

"No, it doesn't," She shook her head too. "But it doesn't make it wrong either."

"I got angry."

"And rightfully so," Ash said. "A betrayal of trust breeds resentment aplenty, and I can only imagine how long you've kept that feeling abated. I do not think of you as cruel nor heartless for it. After all, if you hadn't shouted, if you've never angered… then I can only assume that you've never cared."

I looked back up at her to see that she was looking back at me, underneath those gentle eyes, just as kind, was a faint smile.

"And I know you care," She continued. "Immensely, you do. And there's no doubt that she does too."

Sitting here, my eyes tilting up at her, couldn't help but notice the role reversal that was happening here. Suddenly I was the one down in the dumps, and she was the helping hand to pulling me out of it.

The comforter has become the comfort-ee, oh how the tables have turned. Can't say I particularly dislike it.

Though I couldn't quite form myself a smile as of yet, I still appreciated it all the same.

"Thanks, Ash…"

She bowed her again, and having said her piece, continued to remain standing where she stood - which was quite an awkward thing to see her do. 

Usually, imparting words of wisdom would then be followed by said wisdom-giver leaving the room so that the wisdom-givee could be alone to think on the profoundness and meaning of what was just uttered.

Yeah, usually that'd be the case with anyone else.

I forgot she wasn't anyone else.

"So, uh… what are you doing?"

Ash straightened herself, craning her head high and responding rather blankly. "Standing guard."

Ah, okay… I think I kinda understand. 

"Still worried about me, are you?"

She stuck with that blank expression, that same excuse. "Standing guard."

Okay then, standing guard it is.

Thanks, Ash...