Nights in Barathrum were always heavy. Perhaps it was the trust it really was nighttime, as it’s not as if they could see the sun set. Most people in Barathrum had no idea what the sun even looked like, let alone that it set to mark the day’s ending.
Kumori was not one of these people. Though the irony was not lost on him.
He stood, stooped as usual, in front of Mao’s door, long fingers hesitating at the handle.With a shake of his head, he began grumbling to himself that this was ridiculous. He was merely checking on her.
The door squeaked as he opened it, but he didn’t freeze. Instead he opened the door and looked in at his daughter.
She lay on her bed, her back to him, curled on her side. His eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom, and he felt a smile tug his lips as her face came into view. Stepping carefully into the room, he crossed over to her and paused.
“You look so much like her…” He murmured, his eyes tracing the straightness of her nose, the set of her lips. But she also looked like him, and his stomach knotted as he saw her eyelids twitch.
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She suddenly rolled, her lips twitching into a smile as she sprawled. Her brows then knitted together, and she whined softly in her sleep.
“Mama…”
Kumori stared down at her, frozen in place. His blood struggled to pump through his body, and his lungs forgot how to breathe.
He watched her curl up again, and taking a shuddering breath, he pulled the blanket over her once more. Turning on his heel, he swept out of the room as if chased by the Queen’s hounds.
The door closed with a click behind him, his back pressing into the firm wood as he tried to remember how to breathe. He looked at the ceiling, before closing his eyes to the spinning world.
A terrible idea, the image of his wife rising in unbidding in his mind’s eye. Her smile, the way her dark hair tumbled about her face. Her voice whispered in his ear, calling his name. He could almost hear it clearly.
Too clearly.
His fist connected with the far wall, the stone cracking from the force and he huffed, breathing heavily.
“Father?” The door opened behind him and he looked at Mao, staring at him with wide eyes.
“Go back to bed.” He snapped at her. Turning, he headed down the stairs, realizing he desperately needed a drink.

