Hiraya's smile trembled. She took Griffin's hand from her face and covered it with kisses, cursing this fragile body she now inhabited–this new, softer vessel that couldn't conceal pain the way her old one had.
Unlike her former self, trained to take damage without a trace, this body carried every bruise like a shameful secret.
"Don't worry about that," she soothed, "Mommy already handled him."
"So... it's a him?" Griffin's eyes darkened with something ancient and terrifying. A glint, so fierce and cold, it made Hiraya shudder.
"Baby…" she breathed, flashing Steve a silent order. Instantly, he raised the partition, leaving mother and son in complete privacy.
"What's his name, Mummy?" Griffin asked, fists curling at his sides, lips pressed into a thin line. "Tell me who hurt you."
"Easy, little ancestor," Hiraya whispered, brushing her hand over his clenched fingers, trying to smooth away the storm. "You don't need to handle this. Mommy already did."
