Chapter 3: The artist
Ryota's gaze fell upon his mother, and a genuine sense of appreciation welled up within him. He couldn't help but notice the graceful lines that adorned her face, the way her eyes sparkled with a mixture of wisdom and tenderness. She was a picture of beauty, and he felt compelled to let her know.
"Mom," he said, his voice filled with genuine affection, "I want you to know how stunning you are. Your smile lights up a room, and your eyes hold a warmth and kindness that radiate from within."
He continued, his voice filled with admiration, "Your smile, it lights up any room you walk into. It's infectious, and it brings warmth to everyone around you. And your eyes, they hold so much depth and love. They're like windows to your soul, reflecting the kindness and strength that reside within you."
Ryota's words seemed to catch his mother off guard. She blinked, momentarily taken aback by his heartfelt compliment. It was as if she hadn't expected such words of appreciation from her own child.
Ryota's gaze settled on his mother, appreciating her beauty with heartfelt sincerity. As he expressed his admiration, he noticed a hint of embarrassment and surprise wash over her face, momentarily taking her aback.
His mother's cheeks flushed, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She seemed slightly embarrassed by the attention, unaccustomed to being the focus of such compliments.
"You carry yourself with grace and elegance," Ryota continued, his voice gentle but firm, determined to make his appreciation known. "You have a beauty that goes beyond physical appearances. It's the strength and love that you exude, the sacrifices you make for our family."
His mother's eyes shimmered with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, her hands fidgeting slightly as she absorbed his words. It was clear that she was not accustomed to hearing such heartfelt compliments, making the moment all the more significant.
"Your beauty shines through in the way you care for us, in your unwavering support and love," Ryota added, his voice softening with warmth. "You are the backbone of our family, and your strength and dedication inspire me every day."
His mother's gaze met his, her expression a delicate mix of bashfulness and appreciation. She seemed deeply touched by his words, her embarrassment slowly transforming into a quiet pride.
"And let's not forget about your grace and elegance," Ryota continued, his voice filled with genuine awe. "You carry yourself with such poise, and your presence is captivating. You have this natural beauty that radiates from within, making you truly captivating in every way."
As the words flowed from Ryota's lips, he could see a mixture of surprise and joy flicker across his mother's face. It was a rare moment of vulnerability and connection, as he expressed his genuine appreciation for her.
"You deserve to know how beautiful you are, Mom," he concluded, a soft smile gracing his own lips. "Inside and out, you are a remarkable woman, and I'm grateful every day to have you as my mother."
Ryota's small frame nestled securely in his mother's arms, her warm embrace offering a sense of comfort and safety. She held him close, her touch gentle yet firm, as they shared a tender moment of connection.
Ryota moved his right hand and placed in her mother's chest and begins to move towards her right bra and somehow he mangaged to uncover her right breast with his both hands.....and uncovered the nipple....Ryota moved his head forward so he could drink his mother's milk
Ryota's mischievous act caught his mother off guard, and she couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh. Her amusement mingled with a touch of exasperation as she shook her head, playfully scolding him.
"Oh, Ryota," she chuckled, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "You always find a way to keep me on my toes, don't you?"
She watched as Ryota's mischievous grin widened, his eyes sparkling with innocent mischief. Her laughter subsided, and a warm smile replaced her initial surprise.
"But you know, my little troublemaker," she continued, her voice affectionate yet firm, "there are some things that we just can't do. Drinking mommy's milk is one of them."
Ryota looked up at his mother with wide, innocent eyes and a hopeful smile playing on his lips. His little hands reached out, gently tugging at her shirt.
"Mommy, can I have some of your milk, please?" he asked, his voice filled with innocence and curiosity.
His mother's heart melted at the sight of his earnest request. She knelt down to his level, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear.
"Oh, my sweet Ryota," she said, her voice soft and tender. "I understand why you'd want that, but you're all grown up now. Mommy's milk is for when you were a baby, to help you grow big and strong."
Ryota's face fell slightly, disappointment evident in his expression. He sighed but quickly perked up with a determined look in his eyes.
"But Mommy," he replied, his voice filled with determination, "I want to be big and strong like Daddy. Can't I have just a little bit?"
His mother couldn't help but smile at his persistence. She knew how much he admired his father and longed to follow in his footsteps. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek.
"Sweetheart, you're already growing up so fast," she said, her voice filled with love. "But right now, there are other foods that will help you grow and give you the energy you need. We can have a special treat together, something delicious that will make you feel strong and happy."
Ryota was nestled comfortably in his mother's arms, his eyes half-closed and his tiny fingers wrapped around one of her fingers. The room was dimly lit, the atmosphere quiet and serene.
After some time
In the dimness of the room, Ryota's gaze was fixated on a mobile above his crib, the tiny shapes casting soft, moving shadows on the walls. His mother watched, fascinated, as her unusual baby seemed lost in deep contemplation.
"Dependency," Ryota began, his voice devoid of any emotional bias, sounding as though he was reading out an encyclopedia entry. "When an individual becomes reliant on another, either emotionally or physically, it creates an imbalance. The one who's depended upon has power."
His mother adjusted the blanket around him, looking at him with a mix of wonder and amusement.
"Gaslighting," Ryota continued, "is a tactic where the manipulator causes the victim to doubt their own perception, memory, or reality. Consistent doubt leads to confusion, further enhancing the manipulator's control."
The mobile continued its slow dance, the soft lullaby music playing in the background contrasting starkly with Ryota's factual tone.
"Withholding," he stated, "involves deliberately denying affection, information, or resources. When practiced systematically, it creates an atmosphere of scarcity. The victim becomes more eager, trying harder to please the manipulator in hopes of obtaining what's withheld."
His mother gently caressed his cheek. "You speak as if you're reading from a textbook, my little one."
"Ultimatums," Ryota didn't waver, "are about providing limited choices, forcing the individual to make decisions often beneficial to the manipulator."
His mother sighed, "Alright, my little professor, time to rest those brain cells."
Reputation threats," Ryota quickly added before she could interrupt, "involve compromising an individual's social standing. It's a powerful tool, especially in tightly-knit communities where one's status is paramount."
She gently rocked him, "Enough for tonight. Sleep now."
But even as Ryota's eyes began to drift shut, his mother knew her child was unlike any other, and she pondered on the strange, objective wisdom he seemed to possess.
Ryota lay in his crib, the shadows of the mobile playing on his face. Even though he seemed at peace, his thoughts were racing.
"Why doesn't she see it?" he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible. "I've made it so obvious."
He clenched his small fists, frustrated by his mother's obliviousness. "Every technique, every method, applied flawlessly. She should be leaning on me, looking to me for every decision. But instead, she just finds my behavior amusing."
He sighed, thinking of how he deliberately acted more mature than a baby should, wanting to shift the balance of their relationship.
"It's a matter of perception," he mused. "She still sees a baby, even when I sound like a grown-up. But I won't give up. I'll keep pushing, keep playing my cards until she starts to rely on my insight. Then the tables will turn."
His eyes darted to the door, ensuring she wasn't there to hear his confession. The irony wasn't lost on Ryota – a baby wanting his mother to be dependent on him, instead of the natural order of things. But Ryota was never one for convention.
"She laughs, she coos, she dismisses," he continued, feeling the weight of his plan. "But one day, she'll listen. She'll start questioning her decisions, comparing them to my 'wisdom'. And that's when I'll truly have her."
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