At first, when Emerie had met Mayumi and her family, she had thought she was a cold mother to them. She hadn’t held them, and only let them walk over her when Faunus was nearby.
It was only partway through today, after she and Emerie had spoken and grown a little closer, that Mayumi’s affection with them changed. She held them, spoke to them even though they would never be able to understand, and even openly snuggled with them.
It was totally different to the already hard and abrasive personality Emerie could see she had.
It eventually dawned on her that Mayumi had been distant with them due to Ingram and Emerie’s presence, keeping her precious children with the parent that could protect them best: Faunus. Before today, they’d still been strangers. They had been threats to their family.
She’d given up her precious time with them for their safety.
Emerie watched as Faunus moved away from Mayumi. He only made it about three steps before her head perked up.
“Hey!” she whined. “Give them back!”
The chuckle that rumbled out of Faunus was dark, mischievous, and evil as he bolted with the child he’d stolen. Mayumi chased him with a spoon dripping with yellow, oily sauce.
“You’ve had them for most of the day,” she continued.
Emerie didn’t catch Faunus’ chuckling response; it was dim and inaudible to her ears.
I can’t do this anymore today. Faunus obviously wanted to be himself with his bride and family, teasing and picking on her every chance he got if he wasn’t lazing around somewhere.
It was killing her.
As quietly as she could, hoping not to be noticed, Emerie slipped off the chair. She threw her hand out to Ingram when he went to rise.
“Please, please, just stay there. I just need some air.”
“Emerie,” he rasped, his skull following her direction as she headed for the exit. She couldn’t bear looking at him to see if his orbs had changed colour.
She didn’t know if anyone else noticed she’d left, but she really hoped they didn’t. She needed air. She needed a few minutes of clean, fresh air that wasn’t stifled by their happiness, love, and affection.
Just five minutes to be in the cold, by herself, like she’d been for most of her damn life.
Instead of heading to the tent, something that didn’t belong to her, she walked just beyond the open clearing and to the fringe of forest. She sat next to a tree. With her arms wrapped around the tops of her knees, she just breathed and tried to push out all the horrible, terrible emotions she didn’t want inside her.
She felt petty, spiteful, and jealous all wrapped up into one aching being, and more than anything, she wanted to shed those sentiments. She hated that she felt this way; they didn’t deserve it.
When tears began to well in her eyes, she glared at herself while thinking, Stop it. Stop it. Stop it! With a shaking hand, she wiped at her cheek with the heel of her palm.
A twig cracking from the direction of the house made anger flare in her chest.
“Ingram, I said to sta–” Her words died when she saw a woman with long black hair approaching her. “Oh. Um.” She wiped at her cheeks to remove the few tears that had fallen, ashamed of them, before giving her a smile. “Hey, Mayumi. You didn’t have to come out.”
“Sorry,” Mayumi muttered. “I know it must be hard–”
Emerie’s features twisted into a cringe. “Please stop. I don’t want you to feel bad for something that has nothing to do with you. I am happy for you and your family.”
“I know.” She bent down and placed her hand on Emerie’s shoulder. “But that still doesn’t stop how it must make you feel. I understand, but Faunus doesn’t, so he isn’t being very considerate of you.”
Emerie was quick to slap her hand away and rise to her feet.
“I don’t want anyone changing their fucking lives for me or being considerate. The fact you feel like you have to come out here and apologise to me makes me feel worse, like I’m a damn villain for feeling this way. So please, just leave me alone.”
Mayumi sighed as she slid a hand over the top of her hair, before brushing it down the long length of her ponytail.
“I didn’t tell you how I was discharged from the guild.”
“Let me guess,” Emerie sneered. “They found out you lied about going through with it.”
“Yeah, pretty much.” She rubbed at her cheek. “Like I told you, my father was a really high-ranking Elder. He was able to have it fabricated that I’d done it, but I got caught out on a mission. I chose to do that, knowing I could not only be discharged but imprisoned because I didn’t want to have my future taken away from me. I wanted the choice.”
Emerie wished her voice didn’t sound so angry and shaken, when she said, “Well, I made a choice, and now I have to live with it.”
She clenched and unclenched her hands, hoping to squeeze the defensive stiffness out. It was futile, and it only made her realise just how clammy her hands were from anxiety.
“What I’m trying to say is that I get it,” Mayumi offered. “I get why you’re upset, and I wanted you to know that you are welcome to be within my home and just be how you feel. You don’t have to hide it. I can’t change my life, and you can’t change how you feel, but there is no point in you trying to exclude yourself from us when all it will do is make you feel more alone.”
“You don’t get it, okay?” Emerie gritted her teeth to keep her eyes from tearing – she refused to cry in front of someone she barely knew. “It’s not just you, or your family, or the fact I chose to have my uterus removed so I could climb higher through the guild. I chose to go through with the hysterectomy because I had a goal, and because I doubted I’d live long enough or even find someone to make a family with.”
Mayumi folded her arms with her feet parted in an offensive stance Emerie had seen far too often in life. Guarded. “Then explain it to me so I understand?”
Emerie couldn’t help averting her gaze, wanting to look anywhere but at the same woman who suddenly felt three times her size. How could someone tower over her from so many inches below?
“I don’t want to,” she grumbled.
If she let it all out, said it all, Emerie wondered how she was supposed to stuff it all back inside and hide it. She wondered how she was supposed to ignore it.
Mayumi snorted a laugh. “Coward.”
“Excuse me?” Emerie gasped, turning to her.
“I’m not the kind of person to be gentle with another. I have a very low tolerance for human beings in general, which is why I’m with a Duskwalker in the first place. So, Emerie, I’m not going to hold back the truth from you, just as I wouldn’t for anyone else.” Then she raised her arm to shrug, her chin lifting. “You’re so afraid of your own damn feelings that you can’t even talk about them. If that isn’t cowardice, then I don’t know what is.”
Emerie knew what she was doing. She’d asked nicely, and Emerie had rejected it. Now, Mayumi was trying a different tactic to get her to open up, and to her dismay, it worked.