Work Text:
“One more thing!”
You sigh, your mother’s anxious doting having filled not only the last few hours, but really the entire week.
“Mama, please. If you add anything else, the boat’s going to sink.”
She clicks her tongue, shaking her head as she returns with a tall cylindrical box, wrapped in shiny ribbons and marked with bold, darkless stripes. She hands it to you with an expectant smile, her eyes shining.
You chuckle and untie the ribbon, reaching into the box to pull out…
“A hat?”
“Yes! You’ll be traveling everywhere, who knows what climates you’ll encounter? Besides, I’d hate to see my starlet’s cheeks burned up!” She teases, pinching your cheek.
You place the pointed hat on your head, and somehow…you feel complete.
“Thank you, Mama.”
Her bottom lip trembles slightly as she pulls you into a tight hug, her arms warm and strong, your hat already knocked a bit askew as she leans in to kiss your cheek.
“My baby. My little star. You’ve grown up so fast… Please, promise me, you’ll stay safe.”
“I promise, Mama.”
“And you’ll make friends.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“And you’ll come back to visit.”
“Mama, I promise I’ll be safe, and I will come back. And when I do, you’ll have no choice but to throw a feast. Okay?”
Her worry tugs at your heart, almost enough to make you stay. Almost. But you know you have to go; you want to. It’s tradition - following the call of the stars, a pilgrimage to find your place among them.