Chapter Text
The child in his arms was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Her silver hair was already beginning to curl, and he chuckled as her small hand waved up above her head, brilliant red eyes twinkling in the fading light of the moon as she clutched at his hair. “Now, now,” he said softly. “It’s time to say goodbye.”
A soft hand, one that had caressed him many times, rested on the child’s forehead, and he looked into the brown eyes of Mikoto. He’d disguised her, of course. Making her resemble a Hoshidan would allow her to blend into the culture easier, giving her a better chance of finding a new family, a new life. And though it hurt so much to stare into eyes that were once golden, now brown, he knew that it would be better this way.
“I wish it didn’t have to come to this,” she said softly, her voice trembling.
“As do I,” he murmured.
“She… She deserves a father.” Mikoto’s voice was anguished, and again the guilt over his decision spiked in his gut, making his eyes prick.
“She will have one, in Hoshido,” he promised. “A brave father, a strong father.”
“But not you,” Mikoto whispered.
And that was the pain of it: he could not be the man that raised his own daughter. Of course he would watch over her, as long as he continued to exist. Of course, he would do anything for her: protect her, prepare her path for her, die for her. But to be the man that helped her to walk? To be the man that smiled as she said “Papa” for the first time? To be the man that she could come to when she was crying or afraid or simply having a bad day?
He wanted that more than anything. But he’d learned long ago that to be human was to want that which was impossible to have. And this was the road he’d taken. He could not abandon it now.
“You won’t tell her?” he asked once more.
“I promised, didn’t I?” Mikoto said, and though her eyes were wet, her voice was light, jovial. As if this wasn’t the last time they would ever see each other. As if she was simply taking their child for a walk, and she would return in a few moments. “And do I break my promises?”
Despite the pain in his heart, he smiled. “Never,” he replied softly.
She swallowed thickly, then leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I will always love you,” she murmured. “Without end.”
“And I you,” he murmured back. He stared down at the infant in her arms, then kissed her forehead. “Goodbye,” he whispered.
The child suddenly began to squirm, as if realizing that they would not meet again for many, many years. “Shh,” Mikoto murmured, but soft cries began to pass their baby’s lips, a sound that tore at his heart.
“You are the ocean’s grey waves,” he sang softly, stroking the child’s head. “Destined to seek life beyond the shore, just out of reach…”
And as he sang the words he’d thought up so long ago, her beautiful crimson eyes drifted closed and her body stilled. Mikoto stared at him, then kissed his cheek one final time and strode down the trail, her white Hoshidan robes nearly glowing in the darkness.
His tears began to fall, but he quickly wiped them away so that he could see his wife and daughter leaving clearly. He burned the sight of her retreating form into his memory. It would most likely be the last time he would ever see his family with sane eyes.
Perhaps that was the most terrifying thing of all: he knew that his daughter would meet him again, someday. But he would be so insane, so full of hatred and despair and pride that he would be unable to recognize her truly as family. To him, cursed with the madness of his race, she would only be a thorn in his side, a pawn to use, or an insect to crush.
That was why he had to send her and Mikoto away. So she could be raised safely. So she could be trained with the sword. So someday, when the time was right, she would return to their broken kingdom, to the place where all of this had began.
And his sweet darling Corrin would kill him and finally release his soul.
He finally turned away once Mikoto was out of sight, inhaling deeply to still his trembling hands. There was so much to do and so little time. So many things had to be done before everything faded, before his insane half caught up to him and hunted for his blood with his undead servants. He knew that his very existence was a mistake, a freak accident. And while his time with Mikoto and Corrin had been so wonderful, it had also been so very short. He doubted he had much more left.
"Yet, the waters ever change, flowing like time. The path is yours to climb."
Forgive me, Corrin. That song was the only inheritance I could give you.
Anankos prayed it would be enough.