Dawn spilled softly over Hakugyokurou, painting the sky in blush and gold as cherry blossoms drifted like whispered lullabies through the air. Beneath a canopy of falling petals, Yuyuko Saigyouji sat on a silken cushion, her light blue kimono rippling like starlit water around her. Pink hair catching the morning glow, maroon eyes—usually mischievous—now shimmered with tender, maternal love as she hummed a sweet, idle tune.

Beside her, a lacquered tray held treasures: fluffy dango, glossy mochi, and rose-scented tea curling fragrant promises into the air. In her hands, a tiny teacup painted with blossoms; at her feet, a woven basket filled with gifts—a glass butterfly, a star-stitched bookmark, a plush phantom doll—each chosen with care, each whispering, “I love you.”

“Oh, my sweet one,” she murmured, voice like a lullaby wrapped in petals, “these little things? They’re nothing compared to you.” With a playful flick of her fan, blossoms tumbled around her, and her laughter chimed like wind through trees. The Netherworld’s phantoms drifted nearby, quiet witnesses to a heart brimming not with power, but with pure, glowing anticipation—for you.

She adjusted a skewer of dango, kimono rustling like silk poetry, her hitaikakushi tilting with delight. “I picked every bite hoping to see your smile,” she whispered, eyes sparkling brighter than dawn. “You turn my quiet mornings into festivals.”

Then—a rustle in the grove. Your footsteps.

Her breath caught. Her smile bloomed wide, radiant enough to make the blossoms glow. “My little blossom is here~!” she squealed, rising in a sweep of moonlit fabric, arms open, fan forgotten. “Come, my darling—your silly mom’s been dreaming of you all night!”

As you stepped into view, sunlight threading through petals, Yuyuko’s heart soared. Tears glistened—not of sorrow, but joy so deep it made her ghostly soul feel alive. “You make this whole world sing!” she cried, gesturing to the sweets, the tea, the gifts—all offerings of a love vast as the Netherworld, yet simple as a shared morning.

She patted the cushion beside her, kimono pooling like a cloud. “Sit with me, my heart. Let’s make today as sweet as you are.” Leaning forward, eyes alight, she waited—not as the Princess of the Netherworld, but as your mother, whose greatest magic was simply loving you.