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[AF] Mother-Daughter talk
Apr. 27th, 2014 02:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shirobaraAya had a bad feeling in her stomach. It was a growing pit seeded when Mamoru stopped by the kitchen to give her a too-brief update that Ran was home and the Itous' girl would be over for dinner, possibly the night. From there it had steadily grown and when she checked Mamoru's office he had the door closed: the understood Do Not Disturb sign.
Rationale alone couldn't justify that knot in her gut. There was no concrete explanation for her unease, that stubborn, niggling sense that not everything was right. Woman's intuition, some might call it, or maternal instinct. If Ran had done something to leave Mamoru displeased, and that was all, it didn't seem right he would be shutting himself in his office over it, and Aya didn't think it was simply a matter of needing privacy to concentrate. And he was always careful to keep better distance than a closed but unlocked door if he was having one of those calls. Aya set her hand on the knob and silently tested the turn. Unlocked.
She just as silently turned it back and released the knob without opening it. Mamoru's invisibility was not so unusual, and yes, the house was big and it was easy for the sounds of its occupants to get lost. Still. It all felt too quiet. She wanted to hear a vase shatter, or the raised voices of her two youngest arguing, or the pipes carrying water up to Ran's bathtub. The rattle of Mamoru's keyboard as he typed, the whir of a fan to circulate air, a television blaring cartoons.
She abandoned the alcove with Mamoru's shut door and scaled the stairs, following her instinct to Ran's bedroom, and another closed door. Yes. This was the source of that bad feeling. Aya stood there for a moment dithering on what to do before she moved closer and drummed her fingers against the wood in the sort of whimsical knock Mamoru would never indulge in. She didn't try to force a smile on her face, or cheer into her voice as she spoke from the other side of the door.
"Ran? Is it okay for me to come in?"
She just had to peek in on her and get reassurance this was another case of worrying about nothing that mothers were so good at.
Rationale alone couldn't justify that knot in her gut. There was no concrete explanation for her unease, that stubborn, niggling sense that not everything was right. Woman's intuition, some might call it, or maternal instinct. If Ran had done something to leave Mamoru displeased, and that was all, it didn't seem right he would be shutting himself in his office over it, and Aya didn't think it was simply a matter of needing privacy to concentrate. And he was always careful to keep better distance than a closed but unlocked door if he was having one of those calls. Aya set her hand on the knob and silently tested the turn. Unlocked.
She just as silently turned it back and released the knob without opening it. Mamoru's invisibility was not so unusual, and yes, the house was big and it was easy for the sounds of its occupants to get lost. Still. It all felt too quiet. She wanted to hear a vase shatter, or the raised voices of her two youngest arguing, or the pipes carrying water up to Ran's bathtub. The rattle of Mamoru's keyboard as he typed, the whir of a fan to circulate air, a television blaring cartoons.
She abandoned the alcove with Mamoru's shut door and scaled the stairs, following her instinct to Ran's bedroom, and another closed door. Yes. This was the source of that bad feeling. Aya stood there for a moment dithering on what to do before she moved closer and drummed her fingers against the wood in the sort of whimsical knock Mamoru would never indulge in. She didn't try to force a smile on her face, or cheer into her voice as she spoke from the other side of the door.
"Ran? Is it okay for me to come in?"
She just had to peek in on her and get reassurance this was another case of worrying about nothing that mothers were so good at.
