Sanari is a horrible mother.
A horrible parent in general truly.
Just like her own mother, the old bitch died a long time ago, but those last few years, she's been thinking about her more than usual.
She doesn't really miss her. But she can agree on one single thing she said.
'That boy is trouble I tell ya!'
Ah, how right she was, this boy father is a piece of shit, just like her mother was, and this boy and girl combined to perpetuate the tradition of being horrible parents.
The cycle never ends.
It can't, and if she needs to suffer through a bit of temporary pain to correct her mistakes by putting a wide smile on her baby boy face, well, she deserves it.
That's what she deserves for wanting to kill her son.
The door closes behind her with a soft click, the softest she can mutter, keeping the little fortune she managed to gather in the street close to her chest, she pushes the purse between her breasts before tiptoeing toward her room and looking inside.
One breath.
Two breaths.
Three breaths.
She relaxes when the owner of the house is proven not to be here, quickly, she pulls her annoying heels off and send them flying somewhere -who knows where?- and digging the purse back she opens it with fast shaky fingers, still wet from when she grabbed each of the coins.
Did she missed one? Should she go back and search again? Get on her hands and knees and crawl around to make sure she gets every single piece?
Maybe?
But she's pretty sure she got everything already.
For now though? Count.
She opens the purse, ignore her meager earning of today that got her nothing but a bruised wrist and a choked neck -Youta doesn't pay very well- and go directly to the meat and potatoes.
One coin, to get some food and beg for forgiveness after she sets up his son as a prostitute.
Two coins, not enough for nebe to avoid looking half-dead when he starts working after she dies.
Three coins, it's getting better, and now she's starting to think that pedophiles are weird people, so looking weaker may be better for nebe transitional career.
Life as a prostitute is bad, but it's not THAT bad. She just needs to...teach him some things, and make sure he can survive in the future without being under a man like youta for too long.
She's a horrible mother truly.
Her time is running out, and she only have a single guess on how to save her baby boy. Dignity is for nobles. Dignity is for people like her father in law who's an even bigger piece of shit than her own mother.
He'll grow strong, he'll grow big, and he'll grow out of his past. He's just...a bit weird and needs some time.
That's all.
Or maybe that's not all.
Maybe she should have done something else.
She should have killed Nebe a year ago.
When trouble started to brew up. She should have gave up, kill him to spare him the suffering that his life will be, spare him the suffering that his life already his.
'Special'. No parents worth their salt. In the middle of a war.
How is she supposed to give him an opportunity to grow up if he just dies?
He needs to survive.
Somehow.
Her? She won't, not for long no.
So she'll beg for forgiveness in advance and prepare him to survive this harsh world in...her ways.
Would killing him now be better?
Should she tiptoes in his room. Take a knife. A deep breath, apologize, and take him out in one swift movement? No pain? No need for her weird little kid, her weird little dumb boy who speaks like the weirdest of kids, with distinguished words and an accent that she hopes will die down when he grows up. Her weird little kid that doesn't cry, shakes like he's possesed at random moments of the day, and stare right into your soul with eyes that aren't fully there. Her weird little kid with weird eyes that are apparently normal, says the grandfather, but really, anything coming from his foul mouth cannot be trusted.
Maybe it could have two years ago.
Maybe it could have if she killed her son right there, went on her knees, and begged her father in law for a chance, for some money, for him to talk some sense in his son and tell him to stop looking at Nebe like he's a worse version of him.
Unfortunately, this chance is gone, just like any support system she ever had.
At least, she stills have the chance to find some money on the ground.
Thanks you lady luck, thanks you, thanks you, please bless my baby boy with healing and a smoother life than hers, just a bit smoother, a tiny bit.
As she pulls out another ryo on the tabl-! The door bursts open as the man she once loved stumble in, one hand with a key, the other with a bottle, all added with a look of confusion at the key.
She didn't lock the door.
And now he's looking up at her.
A slow tremor runs through her spine, ending in her knees, making them weak and limp as if she was an abused and conditioned dog.
Which truly? She is. She's probably worse than one.
"Huh? Coming from getting pounded again bitch?"
"Could you pleas-!"
The door slams into it's hinges "COULD YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
He looks at her. She looks at him. He takes a sip.
"Sorry"
"Better, cheaters aren't in the FUCKING habit of talking back!" With two big exageratted steps, he closes the distance to her until he's right beside her, and takes the purse out of her hand.
"Ohhhh, what cock did you sucked for this?"
"I-" her hands fumble forward, fingers trailing over the leather of her purse before it's pulled back
"Oh oh oh, what are you doing here?"
"Th-!"
"That's yours?" He looks at the purse, throw it up, almost make it fall but manages to catch it before taking another swig "Alright, it is."
"Really?" She closes up the distance, her hands growing closer, a small bloom of hope she knows shouldn't allow grows.
"What's this then?" His drink spills on the ground as he gestures around the room as a whole, she'll need to clean that up later.
"...you-!"
"MY house!" Like some kind of gorilla trying to prove dominance his fist impacts his chest "so, this?" The purse dangle between his fingers, foul breath wafting over her face as he leans closer "Mine"
She doesn't answer. Instead she keeps her right hand with three of the coins tight in her fist. Not much compared to what she found, but still something.
Doesn't matter much though, it's like with Youta, strong people get the lion share.
"Yes, yeah. Sure, that's your-!" Her head snaps backward, she goes down but manages to grab the side of the table before falling. Her legs tangle beneath her, folding like some kind of origami as she scratch the wood like a cat for support.
"Thinks I'm dumb, fuckin whore" His bloody knuckles pass beside her face to take the money that was hiding in her fist, now on the ground.
Ah, that was loud, this will wake up Nebe.
Well, I guess this prepares him for his future life, prostitutes are treated rough around here.
Without any more words. Her husband turns away to go in his room. Their room.
Right there, blond hair curtaining her face, in a mess because of the whiplash, ass on the ground and nails digging on the table above her, her head just under the flat top, Sanari has only one thought.
She doesn't deserve to be a mother.