章節 9: Mother's Love
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Samui and Mabui offered to help, but Miori waved them off. "Thank you, girls, but Ryo and I have got this," she replied, her gaze on Ryomaru affectionate.
Once the final dish was set on the table, a delectable array of colors and aromas that made both Samui and Mabui's mouths water, they all settled down for dinner. Ryomaru sat between Samui and Mabui, his ice-blue eyes twinkling with excitement. His small hands reached for the chopsticks, and his determination to handle them properly was endearing.
The conversation flowed as effortlessly as it had earlier, filled with laughter and tales. As the evening progressed, it became increasingly apparent to both Samui and Mabui that the warmth and love in Miori's household far surpassed the opulence of the Raikage's mansion.
"So, Ryomaru," Mabui began, her silver eyes twinkling. "Have you started learning ninjutsu yet?"
Ryomaru's eyes lit up at her question. "Yes! Mom's been teaching me," he declared proudly.
Miori's gaze softened as she watched her son. The love in her eyes was so profound that it felt almost tangible. She was acutely aware of every move Ryomaru made, every word he spoke. The sight of him enthusiastically talking about his early training filled her with a sweet mixture of joy and melancholy.
"That's great, Ryo," Samui chimed in, smiling encouragingly at the boy. "It's good to start young."
Ryomaru nodded, taking a sip from his cup. His gaze flickered to Miori, his eyes wide with adoration. "Mom's the best teacher!"
The room was filled with a gentle silence, one filled with warmth and appreciation. The sincerity of Ryomaru's words and the evident affection in his gaze stirred something within both kunoichi. They found themselves looking at Miori with newfound respect.
"Ryomaru, you should try some of this fish," Miori suggested, gently diverting the attention from herself. She served a piece of fish onto Ryomaru's plate, her eyes never leaving him.
"Thank you, Mom," Ryomaru said, his words punctuated by a soft yawn.
Samui and Mabui both watched as Miori tenderly ruffled Ryomaru's hair, her every move radiating an almost worshipful love for her son. It was beautiful and moving, and they found themselves touched by the sight.
Time seemed to slow as they continued to chat and share stories. Ryomaru was visibly tired but made a valiant effort to stay awake, his drooping eyelids giving him away. Eventually, he fell asleep, resting his head on Samui's lap. The older kunoichi looked down in surprise, her gaze meeting Miori's.
"Let him be," Miori said softly, her gaze on Ryomaru filled with fondness. She seemed to be in no rush to move him, instead content to let him rest.
Samui gazed down at the sleeping boy on her lap, a tiny smile playing at the corners of her lips. His cheeks, flushed from the warmth and satisfaction of a good meal, twitched ever so slightly as he dreamed. The innocence that rested within the gentle rhythm of his breathing tugged at a part of her heart she had not known existed. An inexplicable, yet potent feeling stirred within her as she watched him sleep.
It was a feeling akin to a mother's love, she realized, a protective instinct that made her want to shield this little soul from any harm the world could bring. She was startled by the intensity of the emotion, but there was also a sense of warmth, of fulfillment that she had never experienced before.
A soft sigh slipped from Ryomaru, breaking her from her thoughts. His fingers twitched slightly against her leg, and she could not resist the urge to brush his silver hair back gently. It was an intimate gesture, one she never thought she would be capable of. But here, with Ryomaru sleeping on her lap, everything felt right.
Their time at dinner had ended, laughter fading into the soft hum of the night. The golden light from the lanterns around the room bathed Miori's home in a warm glow, casting long shadows on the floor.
Mabui and Samui rose from the table, thanking Miori for her hospitality. The woman merely smiled, her silver eyes twinkling with warmth and kindness. "You're always welcome here," she assured them, her gaze flitting to Ryomaru's sleeping form.
Gracefully, Miori moved towards Samui and knelt down, her hands reaching for Ryomaru. Samui's heart skipped a beat as Miori delicately lifted her son from her lap, cradling him in her arms. There was a profound sense of tenderness in her movements, a quiet reverence that spoke volumes of her love for him.
Samui watched as Ryomaru stirred slightly, nestling closer to his mother. His hand reached out, fingers curling around a lock of Miori's silver hair, pulling it close. His actions were met with a gentle chuckle from Miori, her hand caressing his back as she whispered a soft lullaby under her breath.
Bidding their goodbyes, Samui and Mabui left the house, the image of Miori holding Ryomaru, a silhouette against the warm light of the room, etched into their minds.
As the door closed behind the departing kunoichi, Miori turned her gaze back to Ryomaru. She sat down on the plush couch, her son securely tucked against her chest. His breathing was even, a soft puff of air escaping his lips every few seconds.
She ran her fingers through his hair, tracing the curve of his scalp, and marvelled at how incredibly small he still was. She would lose herself in these moments, in the rise and fall of his chest, the tiny grasp of his fingers, and the quiet assurance that he was hers. Her eyes softened, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she leaned down, planting a feather-light kiss on his forehead.
"I love you, Ryomaru," she murmured, her voice a barely audible whisper in the silence of the room. Her heart clenched, brimming with a love so intense that it threatened to spill over.
She loved him fiercely, almost to the point of worship. He was her life, her joy, her heart. He was her little dragon, her Ryomaru. She wanted to protect him, to shield him from the harsh reality of the world they lived in. She wanted to give him a life filled with love, laughter, and the freedom to be whoever he wanted to be.
She wanted to teach him about the world, about the strength of kindness and the power of compassion. She wanted him to know that it was okay to make mistakes, that it was okay to fail. She wanted him to understand that the most important thing was to get back up, to keep going, to never lose faith in himself.
As she gazed at Ryomaru's sleeping face, Miori made a promise to herself. A promise that she would do everything in her power to give her son the life he deserved. A promise that she would guide him, support him, love him unconditionally, no matter what life threw at them.
She closed her eyes, her heart overflowing with the warmth of her love for her son. The room was silent, save for the soft rhythm of Ryomaru's breathing and the distant hum of the night outside.
Miori rocked gently back and forth, holding Ryomaru close, humming the lullaby she had sung countless times before. Her voice was soft, comforting, a familiar melody that seemed to soothe not only Ryomaru, but also her own soul.
It was these quiet moments, these private displays of a mother's love, that painted the most genuine picture of Miori. Beneath her strength, her resilience, there was a profound love and a tenderness that was reserved only for her son.
This was her most treasured role, her most sacred duty: to love and care for her little boy. And she did so with a passion and dedication that was both inspiring and humbling.
Miori gazed down at Ryomaru one last time before she rose from the couch, carrying him to his room. She tucked him into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. She brushed a stray lock of hair from his face, planting a soft kiss on his forehead.
"Goodnight, my little dragon," she whispered, her voice filled with love and tenderness. She watched him for a moment longer before she turned off the light and left the room, the soft click of the door echoing through the silent house.
And as she walked down the hallway, back towards the warmth of the living room, Miori couldn't help but smile. There was a sense of fulfillment, of contentment, that washed over her. She knew, in her heart of hearts, that she would do anything for her son. For her Ryomaru. And that was a promise she intended to keep.
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