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Both description and story have been provided by my client! They like to stay anonymous for now (: enjoy!

A Cheeky Stroll

    Damn it, where are they?! Mikasa thought, rummaging through her underwear drawer. The old, wooden cabinet had been emptied out, leaving nothing but oak boards to be seen.

    “Mikasa? Are you ready?” She heard her mother’s voice coming from down the stairs, and she cursed slightly.

    “I need a minute!” She called back, rifling through every other compartment, hoping to find anything that might have been misplaced with her pants and shirts. After said minute passed, she opened the door of her room. “Mom, have you seen my underwear?!”

    “Oh, sorry sweetie, they’re all being washed right now. I was cleaning your furniture, and a lot of sawdust was on them.” Mikasa groaned, silently cursing the old drawer for its treason. She heard her calling again. “Do you need any underwear? I could lend you one of mine if you don’t have any. I think my size is a little bit bigger than yours, but–”

    “That’s fine, mom! I’m sure I can find something!” She closed her door again, leaning her back against it and closing her eyes. She took one deep breath and mentally prepared herself for the daunting task ahead of her. She opened one of her closet doors, looking at her purses handing from its inner side. She picked up the one at the top, a simple, black, refined leather purse, rummaging through its contents. Finally, she unearthed an elegant black box, wrapped around elegantly with a silky red bow. The color of her cheeks were matching her scarf when she looked at it, and they grew even redder when she opened it and pulled the content out from inside.

    Made of a fine, comfortable cotton she had commissioned to be the same color as her scarf was what looked like a crimson and gold eyepatch. Delicately, she picked up one of the strings with two fingers, holding it up as she set the box down on her bed. Using her second hand to hold it properly, Mikasa was face-to-face with her brand new g-string. The shape of the panty alone wouldn’t have ignited such an apprehensive reaction from her. After all, practically all her undergarments consisted of thongs, g-strings and everything in between. It was the back of it that had Mikasa hesitating. It was supposed to be a surprise, she thought mellowly.

    Where the crimson g-string consisted of a frontal triangle just big enough to properly cover her womanhood, the back consisted of three strings that met in a t-shape. But where they met, the cotton ended, leaving the article to be held together by a thin golden chain, provocatively shining as the light grazed it. In great bold letters of the same golden material, the word “EREN’S” hung from the chain. Mikasa bit her lower lip. Her six month anniversary with Eren was coming up, and she thought the item in her hands would serve as a… creative gift to celebrate their relationship. Well, he’ll have a chance to react to it once he sees it. Eren wouldn’t mind me using this for an emergency.

    “Mikasa? Sweetie, are you sure you don’t want mine? I didn’t think–”

    “It’s fine, mom, I found one! I’ll be down in five!” She called, immediately stripping out of her pajamas and stepping into the leg holes. Pulling it up, she shivered at the familiar feeling of the string wedging itself snuggly between her cheeks. The chain’s colder than I thought it’d be. The cotton will be fine, I just hope I don’t have to feel the gold the whole time. Looking at herself in front of a standing mirror, she turned around, meticulously ensuring the letters were hanging the right way. She remained hypnotized, her mind attempting to pull her into fantasies of Eren finding her wearing it, of his lust overcoming him and overpowering her the way he knew she loved. She shook her head quickly, blushing away the image as she searched for clothes to don over her racy lingerie.

    She pulled out a long-sleeve, lilac top that left her midriff exposed. Hurriedly putting it on, she was relieved when she turned around and confirmed the material was just thick enough to properly cover her nipples. Still, it was fresh enough for the late spring weather, picking out a pair of white short-shorts to combine the look with. They rode up enough to give her a slight wedgie, but at least it covered her bottom entirely. The same couldn’t be said for her lower-back tattoo, the three swords in the shape of an ‘A’ of her Azumabito family clan symbol, positioned just above where her buttcrack began. I’m never doing drunk dares with Ymir again, she thought tiredly. Remembering the hangover alone the day after she woke up with her surprising new ‘gift’ was enough to give her a headache.

    Going to the bottommost cabinets where she kept her footwear, she furrowed her brows as she pulled a long pair of false boots. It’s been a while since I last wore these, and we’re going to be walking for a while. These’ll do just fine. She put one on and then the other, crossing threads across the front of the thigh-high boots exposing much of her leg. At the bottom, her skin felt free, opening up into thong sandals that left her light on her feet. She’d gone to a Halloween party as some ancient warrior, a modern take on a gladiator, but found the bottommost part of the outfit to be surprisingly comfortable. To finish the look off, she wrapped her lifelong partner around her neck. Woven in thick crimson threads, Mikasa took a good whiff of the familiar comfort her scarf offered.

    In front of the mirror again, she did a twirl, inspecting herself from every angle and judging the outfit. I need to get back into the gym. Despite her intrusive thoughts, Mikasa Ackerman was far more athletic than the majority of women her age. For that matter, she was more in shape than most women period. Still, moving back to her mom’s place for a few months, she allowed herself to take the opportunity to relax and “let herself go” a little. But for a woman like her, “letting herself go” essentially meant that her sixpack was well defined as opposed to completely popping out. Her arms still looked like they belonged in an action figure, if not a little smoother, and the same could be said for her thick legs. Her breasts had stopped growing a few years back, on the generous size without being ridiculously big, and her already plump butt had broadened with her training. Relaxing had just made it peachier.

    Now content and ready, she walked briskly out her door, shouting down the stairs, “Coming!”

    Once she was there, she was met with her mother’s back to her, calmly washing some dishes. Silky black hair ran down just below her swan-like neck, shining with any respectable light. Half a head shorter than Mikasa, Sumiko Azumabito would often be described to look like a matron goddess. What Mikasa had for an athletic yet naturally gifted body, her mother was curvier in every aspect. Though Sumiko usually preferred thick, woolly sweaters to wear until summer stripped it away, the tops she wore rarely ever hid their noteworthy size. Her mother’s were bigger, their second growth had come with the joys of maternity. With her back turned and a stained-white colored sweater that almost reached her skirt, one could be fooled.

    Her skirt, just a few shades away from black, was opposite in color and material to the top. Stopping just above her knees, as light as a summer dress and flowing with every little move she made, it accentuated the magnitude of a moon she called her behind. Often her skirts and dresses would hug her form, giving any passerby a memorable present. Sometimes she wouldn’t even notice the wedgie she’d sport, fully outlining the deep curve of her buttocks. At worst, Sumiko would sport the slightest belly that would only show if she sat down and leaned forwards, as the rest of the fat she’d gain go directly to the lower half of her body. The thickness of her bottom extended to her shapely legs, which clad in mauve-colored waraji sandals, left nothing to the imagination. It took Mikasa years of maturing to stop trying to understand how the woman was so clueless about her provocative body, and how she would often accidentally entice others.

    “I’m ready, mom. We can go whenever you want.” Mikasa said calmly, to which Sumiko turned halfway back with a smile.

    “Just a moment! You were taking so long I thought it’d be best if I got these chores out of the way. Once I finish the last one, we can go.” She replied, her naturally tranquil tone failing to hide her happiness and excitement. She turned around and scrubbed the last plate vigorously. Mikasa’s sigh devolved into giggles, looking elsewhere as her mom’s intense scrubbing made her bum wobble left and right, left and right. She finished, cleaning the soap off her hands and leaving the plate to dry elsewhere. She turned around beaming. “Done! Let’s go.”

    “Let’s go.” Mikasa nodded, her smile matching her mother’s. With that, the two walked out of their house, a large, beautiful cottage of several floors. In a few weeks, we should be able to use the pool. Maybe I can invite the girls here. But a brisk wind snapped her back to the present, the two walking through their neighborhood and towards the exit right by one of the more beautiful parks in the city.

    “I like your clothes, sweetie. If I’d known you were going to pick that shirt, I would have brought a sweater to match it.” Sumiko offered, eyeing Mikasa’s clothes appreciatively. Reflectively, Mikasa raised her scarf to hide her blush. It was a rushed job to hide my boyfriend’s present. Another might have missed it, but Sumiko knew her daughter’s mannerisms too well to overlook the telltale signs of her daughter’s chagrin. She chuckled innocently, “Was it something I said?”

    “It’s nothing important, mom.” Mikasa answered a little too quickly, and she knew too well she couldn’t hide her defensiveness. When Sumiko raised a teasing eyebrow, Mikasa looked away. Another giggle followed, interrupted by a strong gust that had Mikasa’s scarf dancing back like a boat’s flag through a stormy sail. She blinked and stopped, wrapping it more tightly around her neck. “Damn.”

    Sumiko continued walking, the wind giving Mikasa an eyeful of her mother’s scantily clad behind. She’d gotten more of a view of Sumiko’s pair of pale, twin moons than she’d like, rippling with each step she took. The only irregularity in her otherwise creamy skin being the Azumabito clan tattoo in the dead center of her right cheek. That’s one story I’d rather not know. Is she even wearing underwear?! Mortified at the pedestrians getting an eyeful, she whisper-shouted, “Mom, pull your skirt down!”

    “Oh?” She turned around, not even slightly bothered by the state of her skirt. Huffing, she grabbed the bottom of the skirt, pulling down firmly until her knees were covered. Mikasa rubbed the bridge of her nose. …So she is wearing underwear. Now that her rear was properly covered, she was ineffectual to the whale-tail she was sporting. A hot pink, multi-strapped g-string connecting at two silver rings in the back, one above the other. The bottommost ring seemed to be struggling, nearly swallowed by Sumiko’s glutes, just where the top of the skirt reached. She patted her butt down, ensuring it was in place. “That’s better. Sorry, sweetie.”

    “I… yeah mom, you’ve got it.” Mikasa sighed in defeat, resigning herself to walking next to Sumiko so she wouldn’t be flashed the whole way. In a shamelessly ironic turn, the last of the winds faded, but Sumiko didn’t take it as a cue to cover her thong. You’ve done this before. It’s been forever since we’ve done this. Just ignore… that, and enjoy the day. As the awkwardness dissolved into a comfortable silence, Mikasa probed, “So… mom. How are you? Are you doing anything new?”

    “I am, actually.” Her mother smiled at her, thanking her as Mikasa opened the fence for her to walk through. As her daughter caught up, Sumiko continued, “I was actually looking to date again. Who knows? Maybe I’ll find myself someone worth staying with.”

    “You’re dating?” Mikasa asked, doing her best to hide the shock in her voice. Even though she’d always loved her mother and few were the times when they were not on the same page, Mikasa had been daddy’s little girl throughout her whole childhood. Perhaps she might have even grown up a daddy’s little girl, if fate had been kinder. Henry Ackerman had been handsome, strong, and noble in every aspect of his life. It was only fitting he’d die nobly too.

    Mikasa had been fifteen when their home had been invaded by home intruders, but Henry summoned some monstrous strength and killed all five, but not before they took him down with him. His sacrifice was what allowed authorities to discover and shut down a slave ring, so even in death, he was marked a hero. Only once did Sumiko date someone regularly after her widowing, to a terse, tense Ian Dietrich. Lean, tall and handsome, but a bad temper, and a hefty baggage of PTSD from his time in the military. Between Sumiko’s traumas and his, it ended in a terrible breakup after half a year of dating.

    At seventeen, Mikasa had selfishly resented her mother for trying to replace her father and silently cheered when their relationship finally ended. Only now at nineteen did she realize how hard it had been on the both of them, and felt terrible to celebrate the damage it had done to the two. Dietrich was also a hero according to his subordinates, comrades and superiors. He just wasn’t a good fit for mom. And yet now that her mother opened up to her, Mikasa was ashamed to feel familiarly egotistic over it. “…That’s great, mom! What… what made you choose to go out again now?”

    “Maybe it’s the season.” She shrugged, extending a hand to touch the flowers blooming eagerly with the light of the day. “Maybe it’s my body telling me I should be meeting people. While I can’t say for sure, I do believe that I’m ready for it.”

    “That’s great, mom.” Mikasa offered, but Sumiko was too keen to not notice the lack of emotion behind her daughter’s words. Her smile became a little downtrodden as she looked to the horizon. Mikasa took her hand, holding it tightly in her own, looking her in the eyes. “I’m happy for you.”

    “Thank you, Mikasa.” She responded tenderly, keeping Mikasa’s hand in her own. She turned to the floor, noticing something tickling her ankles. “Oh, would you look at that?”

    “Look at what?” Mikasa asked, gaze following her mother’s hand as she pointed down. Squatting, she saw a mantis preying on a locust, greedily eating away at his dinner. Flashbacks came to her of her childhood, smiling fondly as she remembered observing nature with her parents. It dropped in a moment when she heard her mother’s voice.

    “Sweetie, your underwear is showing. Why does it say Erehs?” Sumiko asked ingenuously, brows furrowed. Faster than lightning, Mikasa’s hand was covering the exposed upper end of her bum, her ears and cheeks matching her scarf. Damn it, I forgot to do the squat test. She stood up immediately, wordlessly staring at her mother as surprise changed her expression. “Oh! It’s your boyfriend’s name that’s on it. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but isn’t that a bit much?”

    “Isn’t flashing your ass to the entire neighborhood a bit much?! Your thong’s even raunchier than mine! Is that how you’re going to look for a new boyfriend?!” Mikasa yelled, shame warping into anger. Her mother took a step back, hurt darkening the shine in her eyes. Mikasa’s frown immediately mirrored Sumiko’s when she realized what she’d said. God, I’m such a bitch. What is wrong with me?! She took two quick steps towards her and closed the distance. Grabbing Sumiko’s hands in her, she kissed the back of each. “I’m so sorry, mom. That was rude and uncalled for, and I didn’t mean that at all.”

    “Mikasa, it’s alright.” Sumiko pulled her hands, wrapping her in a loving hug, rubbing her back and giving her a peck on the cheek. Running her hand through Mikasa’s hair, just long enough to cover most of her neck, she crooned. “I know it isn’t easy, and there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t miss your father. It doesn’t feel like four years, but I know he would have wanted us to be happy. I wanted us to take this stroll in the first place because we haven’t walked here since he died. He’d be mortified to know that his sacrifice would hold us back from living our lives in any way.”

    “You’re right... you’re right.” Mikasa nodded, pulling back to see Sumiko’s face again. “And I meant it when I said it before. I’m happy for you.”

    “I know, sweetie.” Sumiko said, placing a hand on Mikasa’s cheek. Almost in a commanding tone, she smirked and asserted, “I love you!”

    “I love you too, mom.” Mikasa smiled, and the two giggled. As they resumed their walk, Mikasa couldn’t help but notice their journey had done solid work at lowering her mom’s skirt, flashing just enough cheek to get nearly a full view of her tattoo. “Sorry, but aren’t you going to pull your skirt up?”

    “Frankly sweetie, I’m only wearing a skirt for your sake.” Sumiko answered, one of her fingers trailing the back of her g-string, pulling it and letting it snap back. “Where I grew up, it was normal to walk the fields in just a fundoshi and sandals. I’m rather happy with my body, I don’t think I have anything to hide.”

    “Alright, alright.” Mikasa relented, choosing to forgive her mother’s brazenness for the day. As the sun began to make its descent, the pair reached an old table in front of the park’s river, all too close the old wooden bridge she’d loved running across as a child. Turning and making sure no one else was there, she undid the button of her short-shorts, allowing them to slide down ever further than her mother’s. When Sumiko saw and gave her a surprised look, Mikasa shrugged. “I’m happy with my body, too.”

    The two laughed, sitting on the bench and reminiscing the days of old. At the end of the day, Mikasa wouldn’t have her mother any other way. Toward the end of the day, as the sun began to set and the two stood up to walk back, Sumiko’s gaze dropped and her eyes squinted. “Sweetie, has the mole on your butt grown? You should get it checked out.”

    “Mom!”

Description

Both description and story have been provided by my client! They like to stay anonymous for now (: enjoy!

A Cheeky Stroll

    Damn it, where are they?! Mikasa thought, rummaging through her underwear drawer. The old, wooden cabinet had been emptied out, leaving nothing but oak boards to be seen.

    “Mikasa? Are you ready?” She heard her mother’s voice coming from down the stairs, and she cursed slightly.

    “I need a minute!” She called back, rifling through every other compartment, hoping to find anything that might have been misplaced with her pants and shirts. After said minute passed, she opened the door of her room. “Mom, have you seen my underwear?!”

    “Oh, sorry sweetie, they’re all being washed right now. I was cleaning your furniture, and a lot of sawdust was on them.” Mikasa groaned, silently cursing the old drawer for its treason. She heard her calling again. “Do you need any underwear? I could lend you one of mine if you don’t have any. I think my size is a little bit bigger than yours, but–”

    “That’s fine, mom! I’m sure I can find something!” She closed her door again, leaning her back against it and closing her eyes. She took one deep breath and mentally prepared herself for the daunting task ahead of her. She opened one of her closet doors, looking at her purses handing from its inner side. She picked up the one at the top, a simple, black, refined leather purse, rummaging through its contents. Finally, she unearthed an elegant black box, wrapped around elegantly with a silky red bow. The color of her cheeks were matching her scarf when she looked at it, and they grew even redder when she opened it and pulled the content out from inside.

    Made of a fine, comfortable cotton she had commissioned to be the same color as her scarf was what looked like a crimson and gold eyepatch. Delicately, she picked up one of the strings with two fingers, holding it up as she set the box down on her bed. Using her second hand to hold it properly, Mikasa was face-to-face with her brand new g-string. The shape of the panty alone wouldn’t have ignited such an apprehensive reaction from her. After all, practically all her undergarments consisted of thongs, g-strings and everything in between. It was the back of it that had Mikasa hesitating. It was supposed to be a surprise, she thought mellowly.

    Where the crimson g-string consisted of a frontal triangle just big enough to properly cover her womanhood, the back consisted of three strings that met in a t-shape. But where they met, the cotton ended, leaving the article to be held together by a thin golden chain, provocatively shining as the light grazed it. In great bold letters of the same golden material, the word “EREN’S” hung from the chain. Mikasa bit her lower lip. Her six month anniversary with Eren was coming up, and she thought the item in her hands would serve as a… creative gift to celebrate their relationship. Well, he’ll have a chance to react to it once he sees it. Eren wouldn’t mind me using this for an emergency.

    “Mikasa? Sweetie, are you sure you don’t want mine? I didn’t think–”

    “It’s fine, mom, I found one! I’ll be down in five!” She called, immediately stripping out of her pajamas and stepping into the leg holes. Pulling it up, she shivered at the familiar feeling of the string wedging itself snuggly between her cheeks. The chain’s colder than I thought it’d be. The cotton will be fine, I just hope I don’t have to feel the gold the whole time. Looking at herself in front of a standing mirror, she turned around, meticulously ensuring the letters were hanging the right way. She remained hypnotized, her mind attempting to pull her into fantasies of Eren finding her wearing it, of his lust overcoming him and overpowering her the way he knew she loved. She shook her head quickly, blushing away the image as she searched for clothes to don over her racy lingerie.

    She pulled out a long-sleeve, lilac top that left her midriff exposed. Hurriedly putting it on, she was relieved when she turned around and confirmed the material was just thick enough to properly cover her nipples. Still, it was fresh enough for the late spring weather, picking out a pair of white short-shorts to combine the look with. They rode up enough to give her a slight wedgie, but at least it covered her bottom entirely. The same couldn’t be said for her lower-back tattoo, the three swords in the shape of an ‘A’ of her Azumabito family clan symbol, positioned just above where her buttcrack began. I’m never doing drunk dares with Ymir again, she thought tiredly. Remembering the hangover alone the day after she woke up with her surprising new ‘gift’ was enough to give her a headache.

    Going to the bottommost cabinets where she kept her footwear, she furrowed her brows as she pulled a long pair of false boots. It’s been a while since I last wore these, and we’re going to be walking for a while. These’ll do just fine. She put one on and then the other, crossing threads across the front of the thigh-high boots exposing much of her leg. At the bottom, her skin felt free, opening up into thong sandals that left her light on her feet. She’d gone to a Halloween party as some ancient warrior, a modern take on a gladiator, but found the bottommost part of the outfit to be surprisingly comfortable. To finish the look off, she wrapped her lifelong partner around her neck. Woven in thick crimson threads, Mikasa took a good whiff of the familiar comfort her scarf offered.

    In front of the mirror again, she did a twirl, inspecting herself from every angle and judging the outfit. I need to get back into the gym. Despite her intrusive thoughts, Mikasa Ackerman was far more athletic than the majority of women her age. For that matter, she was more in shape than most women period. Still, moving back to her mom’s place for a few months, she allowed herself to take the opportunity to relax and “let herself go” a little. But for a woman like her, “letting herself go” essentially meant that her sixpack was well defined as opposed to completely popping out. Her arms still looked like they belonged in an action figure, if not a little smoother, and the same could be said for her thick legs. Her breasts had stopped growing a few years back, on the generous size without being ridiculously big, and her already plump butt had broadened with her training. Relaxing had just made it peachier.

    Now content and ready, she walked briskly out her door, shouting down the stairs, “Coming!”

    Once she was there, she was met with her mother’s back to her, calmly washing some dishes. Silky black hair ran down just below her swan-like neck, shining with any respectable light. Half a head shorter than Mikasa, Sumiko Azumabito would often be described to look like a matron goddess. What Mikasa had for an athletic yet naturally gifted body, her mother was curvier in every aspect. Though Sumiko usually preferred thick, woolly sweaters to wear until summer stripped it away, the tops she wore rarely ever hid their noteworthy size. Her mother’s were bigger, their second growth had come with the joys of maternity. With her back turned and a stained-white colored sweater that almost reached her skirt, one could be fooled.

    Her skirt, just a few shades away from black, was opposite in color and material to the top. Stopping just above her knees, as light as a summer dress and flowing with every little move she made, it accentuated the magnitude of a moon she called her behind. Often her skirts and dresses would hug her form, giving any passerby a memorable present. Sometimes she wouldn’t even notice the wedgie she’d sport, fully outlining the deep curve of her buttocks. At worst, Sumiko would sport the slightest belly that would only show if she sat down and leaned forwards, as the rest of the fat she’d gain go directly to the lower half of her body. The thickness of her bottom extended to her shapely legs, which clad in mauve-colored waraji sandals, left nothing to the imagination. It took Mikasa years of maturing to stop trying to understand how the woman was so clueless about her provocative body, and how she would often accidentally entice others.

    “I’m ready, mom. We can go whenever you want.” Mikasa said calmly, to which Sumiko turned halfway back with a smile.

    “Just a moment! You were taking so long I thought it’d be best if I got these chores out of the way. Once I finish the last one, we can go.” She replied, her naturally tranquil tone failing to hide her happiness and excitement. She turned around and scrubbed the last plate vigorously. Mikasa’s sigh devolved into giggles, looking elsewhere as her mom’s intense scrubbing made her bum wobble left and right, left and right. She finished, cleaning the soap off her hands and leaving the plate to dry elsewhere. She turned around beaming. “Done! Let’s go.”

    “Let’s go.” Mikasa nodded, her smile matching her mother’s. With that, the two walked out of their house, a large, beautiful cottage of several floors. In a few weeks, we should be able to use the pool. Maybe I can invite the girls here. But a brisk wind snapped her back to the present, the two walking through their neighborhood and towards the exit right by one of the more beautiful parks in the city.

    “I like your clothes, sweetie. If I’d known you were going to pick that shirt, I would have brought a sweater to match it.” Sumiko offered, eyeing Mikasa’s clothes appreciatively. Reflectively, Mikasa raised her scarf to hide her blush. It was a rushed job to hide my boyfriend’s present. Another might have missed it, but Sumiko knew her daughter’s mannerisms too well to overlook the telltale signs of her daughter’s chagrin. She chuckled innocently, “Was it something I said?”

    “It’s nothing important, mom.” Mikasa answered a little too quickly, and she knew too well she couldn’t hide her defensiveness. When Sumiko raised a teasing eyebrow, Mikasa looked away. Another giggle followed, interrupted by a strong gust that had Mikasa’s scarf dancing back like a boat’s flag through a stormy sail. She blinked and stopped, wrapping it more tightly around her neck. “Damn.”

    Sumiko continued walking, the wind giving Mikasa an eyeful of her mother’s scantily clad behind. She’d gotten more of a view of Sumiko’s pair of pale, twin moons than she’d like, rippling with each step she took. The only irregularity in her otherwise creamy skin being the Azumabito clan tattoo in the dead center of her right cheek. That’s one story I’d rather not know. Is she even wearing underwear?! Mortified at the pedestrians getting an eyeful, she whisper-shouted, “Mom, pull your skirt down!”

    “Oh?” She turned around, not even slightly bothered by the state of her skirt. Huffing, she grabbed the bottom of the skirt, pulling down firmly until her knees were covered. Mikasa rubbed the bridge of her nose. …So she is wearing underwear. Now that her rear was properly covered, she was ineffectual to the whale-tail she was sporting. A hot pink, multi-strapped g-string connecting at two silver rings in the back, one above the other. The bottommost ring seemed to be struggling, nearly swallowed by Sumiko’s glutes, just where the top of the skirt reached. She patted her butt down, ensuring it was in place. “That’s better. Sorry, sweetie.”

    “I… yeah mom, you’ve got it.” Mikasa sighed in defeat, resigning herself to walking next to Sumiko so she wouldn’t be flashed the whole way. In a shamelessly ironic turn, the last of the winds faded, but Sumiko didn’t take it as a cue to cover her thong. You’ve done this before. It’s been forever since we’ve done this. Just ignore… that, and enjoy the day. As the awkwardness dissolved into a comfortable silence, Mikasa probed, “So… mom. How are you? Are you doing anything new?”

    “I am, actually.” Her mother smiled at her, thanking her as Mikasa opened the fence for her to walk through. As her daughter caught up, Sumiko continued, “I was actually looking to date again. Who knows? Maybe I’ll find myself someone worth staying with.”

    “You’re dating?” Mikasa asked, doing her best to hide the shock in her voice. Even though she’d always loved her mother and few were the times when they were not on the same page, Mikasa had been daddy’s little girl throughout her whole childhood. Perhaps she might have even grown up a daddy’s little girl, if fate had been kinder. Henry Ackerman had been handsome, strong, and noble in every aspect of his life. It was only fitting he’d die nobly too.

    Mikasa had been fifteen when their home had been invaded by home intruders, but Henry summoned some monstrous strength and killed all five, but not before they took him down with him. His sacrifice was what allowed authorities to discover and shut down a slave ring, so even in death, he was marked a hero. Only once did Sumiko date someone regularly after her widowing, to a terse, tense Ian Dietrich. Lean, tall and handsome, but a bad temper, and a hefty baggage of PTSD from his time in the military. Between Sumiko’s traumas and his, it ended in a terrible breakup after half a year of dating.

    At seventeen, Mikasa had selfishly resented her mother for trying to replace her father and silently cheered when their relationship finally ended. Only now at nineteen did she realize how hard it had been on the both of them, and felt terrible to celebrate the damage it had done to the two. Dietrich was also a hero according to his subordinates, comrades and superiors. He just wasn’t a good fit for mom. And yet now that her mother opened up to her, Mikasa was ashamed to feel familiarly egotistic over it. “…That’s great, mom! What… what made you choose to go out again now?”

    “Maybe it’s the season.” She shrugged, extending a hand to touch the flowers blooming eagerly with the light of the day. “Maybe it’s my body telling me I should be meeting people. While I can’t say for sure, I do believe that I’m ready for it.”

    “That’s great, mom.” Mikasa offered, but Sumiko was too keen to not notice the lack of emotion behind her daughter’s words. Her smile became a little downtrodden as she looked to the horizon. Mikasa took her hand, holding it tightly in her own, looking her in the eyes. “I’m happy for you.”

    “Thank you, Mikasa.” She responded tenderly, keeping Mikasa’s hand in her own. She turned to the floor, noticing something tickling her ankles. “Oh, would you look at that?”

    “Look at what?” Mikasa asked, gaze following her mother’s hand as she pointed down. Squatting, she saw a mantis preying on a locust, greedily eating away at his dinner. Flashbacks came to her of her childhood, smiling fondly as she remembered observing nature with her parents. It dropped in a moment when she heard her mother’s voice.

    “Sweetie, your underwear is showing. Why does it say Erehs?” Sumiko asked ingenuously, brows furrowed. Faster than lightning, Mikasa’s hand was covering the exposed upper end of her bum, her ears and cheeks matching her scarf. Damn it, I forgot to do the squat test. She stood up immediately, wordlessly staring at her mother as surprise changed her expression. “Oh! It’s your boyfriend’s name that’s on it. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but isn’t that a bit much?”

    “Isn’t flashing your ass to the entire neighborhood a bit much?! Your thong’s even raunchier than mine! Is that how you’re going to look for a new boyfriend?!” Mikasa yelled, shame warping into anger. Her mother took a step back, hurt darkening the shine in her eyes. Mikasa’s frown immediately mirrored Sumiko’s when she realized what she’d said. God, I’m such a bitch. What is wrong with me?! She took two quick steps towards her and closed the distance. Grabbing Sumiko’s hands in her, she kissed the back of each. “I’m so sorry, mom. That was rude and uncalled for, and I didn’t mean that at all.”

    “Mikasa, it’s alright.” Sumiko pulled her hands, wrapping her in a loving hug, rubbing her back and giving her a peck on the cheek. Running her hand through Mikasa’s hair, just long enough to cover most of her neck, she crooned. “I know it isn’t easy, and there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t miss your father. It doesn’t feel like four years, but I know he would have wanted us to be happy. I wanted us to take this stroll in the first place because we haven’t walked here since he died. He’d be mortified to know that his sacrifice would hold us back from living our lives in any way.”

    “You’re right... you’re right.” Mikasa nodded, pulling back to see Sumiko’s face again. “And I meant it when I said it before. I’m happy for you.”

    “I know, sweetie.” Sumiko said, placing a hand on Mikasa’s cheek. Almost in a commanding tone, she smirked and asserted, “I love you!”

    “I love you too, mom.” Mikasa smiled, and the two giggled. As they resumed their walk, Mikasa couldn’t help but notice their journey had done solid work at lowering her mom’s skirt, flashing just enough cheek to get nearly a full view of her tattoo. “Sorry, but aren’t you going to pull your skirt up?”

    “Frankly sweetie, I’m only wearing a skirt for your sake.” Sumiko answered, one of her fingers trailing the back of her g-string, pulling it and letting it snap back. “Where I grew up, it was normal to walk the fields in just a fundoshi and sandals. I’m rather happy with my body, I don’t think I have anything to hide.”

    “Alright, alright.” Mikasa relented, choosing to forgive her mother’s brazenness for the day. As the sun began to make its descent, the pair reached an old table in front of the park’s river, all too close the old wooden bridge she’d loved running across as a child. Turning and making sure no one else was there, she undid the button of her short-shorts, allowing them to slide down ever further than her mother’s. When Sumiko saw and gave her a surprised look, Mikasa shrugged. “I’m happy with my body, too.”

    The two laughed, sitting on the bench and reminiscing the days of old. At the end of the day, Mikasa wouldn’t have her mother any other way. Toward the end of the day, as the sun began to set and the two stood up to walk back, Sumiko’s gaze dropped and her eyes squinted. “Sweetie, has the mole on your butt grown? You should get it checked out.”

    “Mom!”