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Suho hadn't actually expected to find his mother in the Glacier Dungeon. After all, Thomas Andre had said he'd find a clue about his mother – not actually his mother.
Not that he was complaining, of course. This was far better than following a trail from dungeon to dungeon and extracting information from magic beasts. It had been five years since he last saw her; his heart had rabbited in his chest when Sirka told him his mother was still here in this same dungeon. Every step he had taken in the Echo Forest seemed heavy with the knowledge that each one was one step closer to his mother.
And when he had finally laid eyes on her, his heart sped up. But there was no time to acknowledge any feelings, to entertain any thoughts. His mother had been in danger, and Suho's mind – able to become battle-ready in an instant after his many trials – had discarded all unnecessary thoughts. He'd jumped into action immediately, and the fight that followed ensured he had no time for anything else.
But now, in the aftermath, Suho and his mother stood a slight distance apart from the others. They were waiting on Jinho's helicopter to arrive, and in this pocket of time with nothing left to do, Suho felt a conflicting cocktail of emotions.
He wasn't a person who spent a lot of time dwelling on his feelings. Up to now, Suho had had goals, and he'd taken action to achieve those goals. Finding his mother had been one of those. But now, standing here with her, Suho felt a sudden, unexplainable vulnerability. He felt like a little boy all over again. He looked at her, at the face that had hardly changed since he last saw her, at the smile that remained exactly the same. The only notable difference in her appearance was her tangled ponytail, her torn and dirtied clothes, and the longsword she held in her hands.
And yet, she had changed. Or, Suho mused, it was more accurate to say that he was seeing her as herself for the first time. As an S-rank Hunter, the sheer presence she exuded was staggering. There was a quiet confidence in the way she carried herself, and it was as if Suho was seeing her anew. She wasn't just his mother. She wasn't just a former Olympic athlete. She wasn't just the wife of Sung Jin-woo, or a housewife, or limited to a few notable characteristics off the top of his head.
Then again, Suho hadn't known half of what his parents had been dealing with their entire lives. His mother was someone who married the Monarch of Shadows, who had knowledge of the previous timeline in which she was an S-rank Hunter and a Vice Guild Master, and she'd been dealing with shadow soldiers in her everyday life and her husband disappearing every so often to fight Outer World invaders before dinner.
So rather than saying it was his mother who changed, it was more apt to say it was Suho who changed.
The thought made him slightly nervous. As if sensing his shift in attitude, his mother turned to face him. As far as Suho could remember, his mother had never been one for much emotion. She didn't express her feelings too often or too openly. If Suho had to categorise her brand of affection, he'd call it tough love. Her love and care were shown in different ways, and Suho had always understood that. That's not to say he didn't feel loved, of course – he just wasn't expecting some grand display of affection.
His mother studied his face silently, as if cataloguing all the differences, and then she smiled as she reached out a hand to cup his cheek. She just held his face for a second or two, before brushing his hair – which had grown much longer in his negligence to cut it – off his face and dropping her hand.
"You've really grown up since I last saw you," she said, slightly wistful. "I feel like I missed a lot."
Suho smiled. "Not really. High school graduation wasn't all that exciting, and I feel like I got off easy with studying for my third-year exams." Chuckling lightly, he said, "Father would have been a lot stricter than Jinho."
It was a subpar effort at comfort. His mother didn't call him out on it. She merely offered a smile, saying, "And what about college?"
Suho shrugged. "I became an art major."
His mother laughed lightly. "Of course you did. You were drawing shadow soldiers from the first time you held a crayon, did Beru tell you that already?"
Suho grinned. "I don't think there's anything that ant didn't tell me by now."
His mother laughed, shoving his shoulder with hers lightly. "Show your nanny some more respect."
It was a joke, but it sobered their tentative humour slightly. Suho glanced at his mother sidelong. There was so much they could have spoken about, but it seemed like neither of them really wanted to.
Suho understood: There was a lot that had probably worried her when she and his father disappeared, and nothing could change that. Not the knowledge that Suho had been okay, not the fact that no one could have done anything to change anything.
The initial moments of their reunion had been pure happiness for both of them – they had both been overjoyed to see one another, and the ensuing battle hadn't left room for anything more. But now, the air felt a lot heavier. Suho couldn't deny that after an entire childhood of receiving all the love and attention of his parents, to be suddenly without them had been devastating. Worse yet, he'd eventually grown to accept that his parents were not coming back. Suho had grieved for them as if they were well and truly gone, and yet, the fact that their disappearances were so mysterious and inconclusive left a seed of hope. To Suho, that was probably worse: He could have gone his entire life hoping his parents would one day walk in through the door, and that seemed like the worst kind of torture there was.
No parent would want to put their child through that. So, likewise, no matter what he said, no matter that they'd been reunited now, she would always live with the knowledge that for five years, her son had suffered because of her absence.
It was a tangle of feelings that was already tightly knotted.
Deciding not to untangle that mess, Suho decided to ask instead the one question that had been pinging around in his head ever since she said she was going back into the dungeon. "How long do you think Kaisel will need to recover his full strength?"
His mother smiled at him, a soft one that said she saw right through to the heart of the question. "I can't say for sure."
At that moment, they both turned their heads as they heard the distant sound of helicopter blades. His mother turned back to him after a beat. "Suho, my son."
She raised both hands to his face this time, holding him as if he was something fragile and precious. It was such a soft touch in comparison to everything he had endured lately. Suho had almost forgotten the touch of his mother. It wasn't quite the same anymore – her hands were harder now, more calloused, stronger – but her love and care were there all the same.
"This is just a temporary parting. I promise you that. Never again will I be separated from you for so long. Okay? I'll be back as soon as Kaisel is strong enough. And," she said, smiling in the direction of Sirka, "we have a means of communication now too."
Suho knew all of this already. He felt slightly embarrassed to have acted so childishly, but his mother's sincerity washed that away quickly.
Her hands returned to her sides as she turned to watched the approaching helicopter, and Suho readied himself for action once more. He had been feeling slightly adrift at the thought of parting with his mother again, but her steadiness and conviction solidified his own resolve. This wasn't forever. They both had goals to achieve, and once the time was right, she'd be back.
And, Suho thought, a grin forming on his face, he'd make sure to be even stronger than her when that time came.