when yahiro was young, he wanted all sorts of things, like a common child his age, whose satisfaction came from material gifts.

this lasted only until he was eight.

by the time he had had his ninth birthday under the same scorched roof of his house, he had stopped wanting anything, and when he refused to open his mouth when his mother asked him for something he wished to have for that day, mayuri left the living room with a slight worry nagging at her, and a stinging ache she continues to this day to push to the back of her mind.

she had failed to fulfill her role as a dependable parent.

what brought her to tears later that evening was the set of sharp words yahiro muttered before going to sleep.

『mom, i just want to grow up already.』

mayuri anzai clutched at her chest as tears fell.