Authoress.

It is like he never existed. Only when she sees silver fish swim by her toes, too afraid to nudge her with platinum scales, does she really feel he was once hers. The tiny fish swim from her, falling into the cloud of a creamy wave and floating away. Just like her son did. Her eyes peer into the distance, but the fish has gone somewhere else and all she can see are ordinary blue ones, playing at the bottom of the swell. If only she, too, could catch the cloud to find what lies beyond the sandy earth. If only she could gather him in her arms again and bundle him to her heart. Beat, beat, it would go. He would nudge her gently away, ruffle his beautiful hair–the loveliest silver there ever was–and kiss her cheek or forehead. For now, the little blue fish kissing her toes will have to be enough. It is all she has until she sees the little silver fish emerge from the waves again.

Riku, she says and begins to write away.