She takes his hands in hers, shifting them so (finally) he's not practically sitting in her lap, and looks into his eyes intently. "No. Kubo, that was not your fault. I could have been more aware. He could've made sure that she was dead." She cannot let her little boy feel like it's his fault. She can't. "You are still a child now, and you were then. It should not have ever been your responsibility to look out for us. Certainly not then."

It has been, she knows. It was for most of his life, his responsibility to look after her. But she's been here hours and has felt as much herself as she had when she'd become Monkey, and spirits willing she will not have to put that responsibility on him ever again.

"What we had in that moment," she says, even as tears well in her eyes unbidden, "was more than we ever expected to have. It was not what I wanted, but... we had him, Kubo. If only for a moment, our family was truly together again, and I never thought to even dream of that happening while we were alive."

She'll grieve. She won't put the responsibility of carrying that grief on Kubo. She doesn't need him to carry that for her.