heartstrings, semi eita

i

man, that woman was strong.
(damn little lady. you sure can put it away!)

"jeez, ma," you chuckled, sliding your headphones down to your neck and holding your hand out to her. "let me help you out."

"thanks, my love," she grunted, handing you a couple of bags.

you let her into the apartment before following her into the kitchen, where you both dropped off the grocery bags. without wasting any time, your mom began loading the fridge.

you raised an eyebrow, noticing that she bought a lot more than usual. "what's the occasion?" you asked, leaning against the counter and crossing your arm as you watched her stop everything she was doing.

she set the brown bag down and slowly turned your way, habitually adopting the same stance you were in. it wasn't the usual, 'why you asking me questions? i'm grown' kind of stance but more like 'i'm about to tell you something that you won't like,' and you could tell from the moment she didn't jokingly chide you for being in her business.

"i knew i couldn't put it past you to notice," your mom chuckled flatly, almost as if she was speaking to herself. she knew her daughter was too smart for that.

brows dipping into your forehead with concern, you shifted uncomfortably at the lack of vigor in her tone. "ma?"

"baby, there's something that i haven't told you," she said after a long pause.

"what is it?"

"before i say anything, i know i should've told you sooner and i know this will be a huge change. i've just been so busy lately and i haven't had to time to pay you the proper attention—the attention you deserve—"

"come on, i know this," you assured her, a hand squeezing her shoulder. she was right, though. you haven't gotten many chances to speak to your mom lately because she was so busy with work and bills and trying to put food on the table. of course, you could never blame her for wanting to take care of you, so you put in just as much effort when it came to supporting her; whatever way she needed. "but mom," you started, speaking softly. "to help you or to do what you need me to do, you have to tell me what's going on."

she nodded, you heard her let out a breath, and it made your heart ache the way you saw her panic. you knew you could sometimes respond to things extremely, but you had never and would never want to make your mom feel as though she couldn't tell you something in fear of your reaction.

"do you remember my friend hotaru?" she asked. "hotaru semi?"

after a few seconds of thinking, you remembered and nodded. it was hard not to remember hotaru not because of her lively nature—the reason why her and your mom were such good friends in the first place—and not because your mom dragged you to every outing with her back when you guys lived in japan, but because of her son.

oh, her son.

"i remember," you nodded again, trying to hide your cringe. "what about her?"

"it's not about her, but about her son." that was when your weight began to shift to your dominant leg, your head tilted to the side, and you began to fidget with the ring on your finger. "he got an opportunity to intern at oxford university through this music program. here in london."