A reclusive deity had found refuge in a quiet clearing deep within a set of woods. The gentle bubbling of a creek could be heard in the distance, the wind rustled the leaves of the trees occasionally; a distinct whump! of a thick tail would sound out every ten minutes or so, right on time with the hermit's next wave of dissatisfaction.
This was the only place of solace that he could find at the moment, as pathetic as that may be. He could not stand to be around his mother, who chattered away incessantly about her disappointment in him having lost a 'one of a kid gal'. Where Mischa had gone, Masahiro could not be certain, but she was no longer at his side and that was enough information for him. When that woman did not nag him, she ignored him in favor of her new mate; not that he blamed her at all, his mother could not focus on more than one entity at a time. Flip the coin over and you had his father, whom he did not feel particularly close to in passing years, who had a new life with his new Angelique. It was odd watching your parents build separate lives of which you were not sure you fit into either.
Masahiro had lost track of his son, presumably having gone wherever the Hell his mother had run off to. Misahira was his remaining shred of sanity, his little darling, but she had long since grown up and began a family of her own. Visitation was not a requirement of being his child but he could silently appreciate that she still chose to do so. His mother expected him to wallow in self pity or go out of his way to find a new lover but Masahiro had little interest in either. All he wanted was peace and quiet, room to breathe and organize his thoughts... perhaps to compartmentalize any disgusting feelings he may have as well.
Fatal Irony