A Reason to Live
"I love you, Mother."
"You're so soft like this."
Hot steam clung to my whole body like a second skin. Delphine's fingers traveled down from the nape of my neck, tracing slowly along my veins.
Goosebumps broke out across me, but I forced my spine straight and held my ground. If I let her bully me here, it would truly be the end of everything.
"There you go again, spouting nonsense."
Don't— I meant to stop her, but—
Chk! Delphine snatched my wrist with a rough grip.
"There's that look again."
Look? What look, on me?
Delphine glared at me, her eyes brimming with resentment. My accusing her of 'talking nonsense' seemed, if anything, to provoke her further.
She thrust her face abruptly up to mine. Her breath was close enough to graze my skin, and it felt searing. Soaked bangs clung flat to her forehead; her mouth smiled, but her eyes were cold—and somehow that made me even more tense.
"What's wrong with you?"
Delphine said nothing. Instead, she twisted the faucet all the way open.
Glug-glug-glug. A torrent of water thundered down, as if to fill the tub to the brim. A sound like a sigh rose somewhere in it, then was swallowed by the roar and vanished.
Before I knew it, the water had climbed to my waist. Delphine was still smiling, but the smile didn't sit easy on her, and a deep unease stirred in my gut.
I tried to shift my posture a little—to turn away from facing her squarely, just slightly to the side.
The hand holding my wrist let go—but this time she seized my shin roughly instead. Even underwater, the pressure of her grip was no joke.
"You always used to sit like this, Mother. Always, while watching me."
What was that supposed to mean? Was she going to control even the way I sat now?
The pressure in her hand mounted, tightening around my shin.
"Let go, Delphine."
I strained to pull my leg free, but she didn't budge an inch.
"You really don't know, do you, Mother? When you collapsed that day—how desperately I held on, terrified I was about to lose you."
I swallowed down the heaviness in my chest and spoke calmly, clinging to my reason as her mother.
"It was my fault I let my guard down that day. I'll admit that. But something is seriously wrong with you right now. Please, come to your senses."
Delphine's eyes narrowed to slits.
"Come to my senses? You're telling me that? Or are you saying it to yourself?"
"I'm saying it to you. Let go of my hand, and lower your voice. You're so worked up right now you're not in your right mind."
"...You say I'm worked up?"
She pulled, and my body was dragged helplessly toward her. Part of it was that I stopped resisting and let myself go. In the end, it was the guilt.
"When you came back barely able to breathe, Mother, I thought the world was truly ending."
"...But I'm alive now, right here in front of you. And I'm watching you closely, aren't I?"
"You always try to swallow everything alone, carry everything alone, Mother. It's a habit of yours. That's why clinging to you like some crazy bitch became a habit of mine too."
"You're not a crazy anything. Don't say things like that."
"Mother..."
I coaxed her in the calmest, gentlest tone I could manage.
"You're not crazy. Why do you reach for such harsh words? Don't use language like that."
"And does what I am right now look normal to you?"
"You're just sulking. You were worried, that's all. I understand all of it, so stop now and calm down."
"Sulking...?"
"Yes. You've had quite enough of it, so you should stop now."
"No."
Delphine refused flat out.
When she leaned in closer, the bathwater sloshed over the edges in every direction.
"You said you'd protect me—and yet you couldn't even protect yourself first."
"I can't be perfect, Delphine. I can't win every single time. Sometimes I fall apart, I get exhausted, I want to set everything down and let it all go."
The truth was, I wanted to do nothing at all. Delphine's eyes sharpened into slits again.
"You told me once before, didn't you, Mother? That in this place, the moment you lose, you surrender your life. You remember, don't you?"
"...I did say that."
When my own words came back at me like that, my throat closed up entirely.
"Do you think this is me worrying about you? Don't flatter yourself. This is just obsession."
"That's right. It is obsession."
Delphine nodded.
"And even this much obsession isn't enough. Because going mad would be far better than losing you, Mother."
"Delphine, don't talk like that!"
"It doesn't matter. Scold me if you want. As long as you stay by my side, Mother, I'll do anything."
Before I could answer, she came pouring toward me like a wave. She stretched out her arms, seized my waist, and yanked me hard against her—wet skin pressing against wet skin, and my breath caught in my throat.
"Don't worry, Mother. I'll be at your side from now on."
She whispered in a low voice.
"I never want to see you hide yourself away again, living as though you were dead. So I'm going to give you a reason to live."
"...A reason to live?"
"Yes. You're going to live for me."
I truly couldn't make sense of it.
Ever since the day I'd crossed death's threshold and come back alive, a fear had surged up from somewhere deep inside me whenever I faced her—but never in my wildest dreams had I imagined I'd be forced to fit the meaning of my life to her.
...She has no idea I wanted to die, does she.
I couldn't tell where things had gone wrong. Should I have pushed myself harder to show her a lively, healthy face? No—I was still a sick woman. A patient forcing up false energy would only look more fraudulent, more pained, wouldn't it?
Delphine gave a thin smile. Droplets glittered at the tips of her damp lashes, catching the light and sliding free with every movement.
"I see everything in your eyes, Mother. You're always frightened, always trying to escape. The moment you see me, you start searching for somewhere to hide. Am I just a nobody in your world now? An absence you've written off entirely?"
"No. Never that."
I shook my head quickly. I could feel my voice trembling a little.
"You are the most precious daughter in my world. Do you have any idea how much I cherish you, how much I hold you close? How could I ever turn my back on you?"
The moment I poured out my heart, a bitter smile spread suddenly across Delphine's lips. She was smiling, yet her eyes didn't soften at all—they only sank darker.
"Of course. You say that because I'm your daughter. Because I'm your daughter..."
My heart dropped with a clatter, and the strength drained from my whole body. It felt as though the floor had given way beneath me. I should have ended things cleanly that day instead. If I had, this child wouldn't have rotted and sickened inside, trembling with anxiety like this.
The fact that I was alive seemed only to swell her suffering, until even my breath wouldn't come. I had to say something—anything—but my mouth wouldn't open.
Just as the silence threatened to stretch on forever, Delphine spoke in a faint voice.
"I wish I'd been your son... That thought keeps coming back to me."
A son? I couldn't grasp what she meant, so I asked.
"Where did that come from, all of a sudden?"
Delphine only gave a bitter smile and didn't answer. Instead, the arm wrapped around my waist pulled me in hard, pressing us tighter together in the water. It seemed I wouldn't get an answer no matter how I pressed, so in the end I kept my mouth shut.
A silence settled over us. Only the soft slosh of the bathwater and the idle patter of falling droplets rang through the room.
After a while, Delphine spoke again.
"The water's gone cold. It's lukewarm now."
Her voice was much quieter, much calmer.
I nodded, dazed.
"...Yeah. Let's get out."
Delphine studied me for a few seconds, then released the arms that had held me. When she rose from the tub first, water trailed down her smooth skin and dripped onto the tiles. She picked up a soft towel and handed it to me, and I took it, half bewildered.
Neither of us said a word. All the strength had left my body; even moving was an effort.
Later, as I sat resting on the edge of the bed in my nightclothes, Delphine—still toweling her hair—came over and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck.
"I love you, Mother."
Her voice was so sincere it was hard to believe this was the same person who had been suffocating me moments before.
Watching her be the first to soften, I felt a pang of guilt that, as her mother, I hadn't been the one to reach out first. Slowly, I opened my arms and held her tight.
"...I love you too."
The air in the room grew noticeably warmer.
Is this what family is? I wanted to believe it was. We clashed and we hurt each other, yet in the end we let go of our resentment and accepted one another—that was the warmth I could feel. We stayed like that for a long time, holding each other.
We stayed tangled together for ages.
Eventually Delphine gently loosened her arms and drew back.
"Tomorrow morning, we're going to see the Water Dragon."
"The Water Dragon?"
At the unexpected proposal, I asked her why. Even with the abruptness of it, Delphine didn't so much as furrow her brow; she answered plainly.
"It's been a long time since we've seen her. So we're going to pay her a visit."
The Water Dragon—the dragon I had once subdued all on my own.