For all her power, for all of her lust for death and pain and fear, Sadako was sometimes the same scared, young girl that had been thrown down a well in the sixties. Impulsively she set her tea aside and moved into his arms, granting herself the same hug he'd envisioned. Her eyes were wet, and she buried her head in his neck, trying to wipe her eyes on his shirt so he wouldn't see or feel that she was crying. She hated appearing weak, but it was a situation that called for it. Besides, if she couldn't cry in front of her sometimes-son, who could she cry in front of?
The fact that Teja had no fear of death warmed her heart, if only because she knew that part of that recklessness could be attributed to the fact that she would resurrect him if anything should happen. Not going to lose you too, not ever, I'll make everyone suffer if that happens Her thoughts were quickly flying tangles of sorrow that would likely end up giving Teja a headache.
Eventually the sobs she hadn't realized she was making stopped shaking her shoulders, and she whimpered weakly against Teja's chest. Her black hair covered her face like a curtain, her tea forgotten.