Ahaha, I'm finally back! I thought that maybe I should write a little one-shot... you know, just to get back into my writing mood. Vacations can be tiring, too.

Featuring Young!Issun. -legasp-

Disclaimer: I do not own Okami.

Two little feet struggled to hop over the masses of scrolls and empty bottles, occasionally having to grip onto a nearby table or anything else that he could reach. Once he reached the very middle of the room, the young Poncle couldn't help but admire the various paintings that were scattered all over the floor. Each scroll contained a different image. From the somewhat eerie yet calm landscape of Yoshpet, to a group of animals eating their favorite foods in peace; it was all there, painted delicately onto the smooth surface of the paper.

Content with his position, Issun sat on the floor, picking up each scroll one at a time. His eyes scanned every detail carefully, his mind taking in each tree and every swirl of the wind. He sat there for countless minutes, completely absorbed into his current occupation. It wasn't until an hour later that he found the one that he himself was rather fond of; the one that his grandfather called his pride and joy.

This specific piece of art was even more detailed than all of the others. Issun felt as if he could feel the warmth of the sun radiating from this very picture. In the middle of the scroll, a magnificent white wolf with strange crimson markings was sprinting across a wide-open field. The serious look in its eyes made the young Poncle shiver slightly. A small finger traced the shape of the odd object on its back, which was some sort of disk with white-hot flames bursting out from its surface. Long strokes of white paint made it seem like the wolf had tendrils, each and every one of them flowing gracefully with the wind.

"Issun!" A somewhat raspy yet youthful voice called out from the door. The young Poncle was stunned for just a moment, dropping the scroll onto the floor.

"Er... Yes?" He replied after hastily picking up the dropped scroll and trying to hide it behind his back. Unfortunately, the long ends of it were rather evident compared to Issun's little body.

Chuckling, the elder man came up to the younger one and patted him on the head. Issun let out a small whine, but it went without notice. Quickly swiping the scroll from his hands, Ishaku opened it and showed him its contents yet again.

"Ah, yes... this is one of my greatest works," Ishaku said, chuckling once again at his grandson's awed expression.

"It really is pretty," Issun said, beginning to stand on his toes in order to get a better look.

"Do you know who this is?"

That one question threw the young Poncle off-guard. Who was this mysterious wolf? Has he really been admiring it for all this time without having a single clue on who the main attraction of the masterpiece was? All he could do was scratch his head, deep in thought. It started with an 'S'...

Ishaku interrupted this action by placing a finger on the tip of Issun's beetle cap, making it tilt forward and fall onto the floor. The younger Poncle cried out in alarm and scrambled to place it back onto his head.

"W-What was that for?"

"You took too long," the elder replied, unaffected by his grandson's oddly adorable glare. It seemed to be doing exactly the opposite of what the glare was meant for. "Anyway, this here is the Great Shi-"

"Shiranui!" Issun cried out, trying to beat his grandfather. His sudden outburst made Ishaku jump before looking at Issun with a disapproving expression. "Er... sorry," he said, smiling sheepishly.

Shaking his head, Ishaku took one last glance at the scroll before taking a deep breath. "You're correct. This is Shiranui, the savior of Nippon..."

The younger Poncle, now relieved that his grandfather had calmed down, decided to sit on the floor once again to be more comfortable. He landed on its surface with a faint 'plop'. "Tell me what Shiranui did to save us... again!"

"Again?" the elder asked, slightly irritated at the fact that he had to repeat the story. He opened his mouth to say 'another time', but the look in Issun's eyes made him feel guilty. He's only a child, Ishaku thought, still looking at his grandson's intent face. Why not? It won't kill me.

"Oh, alright then," he finally said, earning a wide grin and a 'Yeah!' from Issun. He took a seat right in front of his grandson, who was fiddling with his thumbs out of excitement.

"Back then, Nippon wasn't a very safe place," Ishaku began. "There was one place in particular that had no choice but to endure the harshest of traditions. Kamiki, a small village in Shinshu Field. There began the legend of Yamata-no-Orochi."

He repeated every sentence, every detail that he's told his grandson many times before. And yet, the young Poncle listened as if it was his first time hearing the legend. Some parts made him shiver in disgust, while others made his lips curl into a small smile. Aside from a quick sneeze, his attention didn't dare to wane at all while the elder continued.

"...And with the help of Shiranui, the great warrior Nagi was able to slay the dreaded Orochi and save his love, Nami," he said. Clasping his hands, he rolled up the scroll and placed it back onto a nearby shelf while Issun sat in silence. After a few minutes, the dazed look on the younger one's eyes disappeared and he hopped up to his grandfather.

"Was Nagi really that great of a warrior?" he asked, his eyes widened with curiosity.

Stopping in his tracks, Ishaku attempted to stifle a snort. As if, he thought as he recalled the encounter with that particular man. Of course, he didn't dare say that to Issun.

"Of course he was. He slayed Orochi, didn't he?"

Nodding, Issun decided that Nagi really was all that. "Maybe someday, I can be as great as Nagi, right? Too bad I don't get to train that much... I'm stuck with all of those boring painting lessons-"

"Now, you listen here," Ishaku suddenly interrupted. This made the younger of the two stop, slightly confused at the sudden disruption.

"You have a gift Issun," he said, placing his hands on Issun's shoulders. "Haven't you noticed that your painting skills are far above the others?"

"Well, duh!" he replied, crossing his arms with a small smirk.

No need to be so cocky, Ishaku thought. Although he couldn't help but admit that he was the same when he was younger. "Anyway, with that gift, you can become the next Celestial Envoy! Don't you want to help the gods?"

Issun's gaze wandered from Ishaku's eyes to the wooden floor below. "I guess..." he replied, kicking a small paintbrush aside. "But-"

"It is a great honor to be the next Celestial Envoy. You will be the one to make people believe in the gods, after all."

But maybe I don't want to be one. That single thought seemed to be burned onto Issun's mind for quite awhile now, and he couldn't help but begin to question whether being that Celestial whatever was really worth it or not.

The elder noticed the light from his grandson's eyes disappear, and that's when he knew what the child was thinking about. He let out a small sigh and released his hold on Issun's shoulders. The younger Poncle felt the warmth leave suddenly, and his face shot back up to face his grandfather.

"B-But! I'm not done yet!" he exclaimed, waving his arms around to snap Ishaku's slight daze. "I guess I can try to be the next Celestial Envoy, but... what if I'm not good enough to be one?"

"That's why I have to train you as much as I can," Ishaku said. "It's gonna be a long and bumpy road, but It'll all be worth it in the end."

No matter how talented this particular Poncle was, he knew that Issun had a long way to go. Being the Celestial Envoy wasn't all about painting, after all.

The small smile that appeared on the elder's lips seemed to raise the other Poncle's spirit. Issun, now motivated more than ever, gave his grandfather a quick hug. This was actually quite a shock to Ishaku, since even a small handshake seemed to go against his grandson's pride.

"If that's the case, then I'll also do my best to be the greatest Celestial Envoy ever! Although, I don't think that it will be that hard," Issun exclaimed, a wide grin plastered onto his face. He took out a small brush from his pocket and whirled it around his fingers once.

What a show-off... he really is my grandson. "I hope you really mean it. Now, why don't we get back to those lessons?" Ishaku said, pulling an excited Issun by the arm. Looking back at the young Poncle's face, the elder could only smile and hope that he really does accomplish his goal.

~O~

"Another failure," Ishaku muttered as he dropped his paintbrush on the floor. He took the scroll and ripped it into two, trying to rid its presence from his room. The two pieces of paper slowly landed onto the ground, alongside the forgotten paintbrush. The elder grumbled as he bent down to pick it up, only to hiss when a sharp pain ran through his side.

"I'm much too old for this," he said to himself. His hands were frantically searching for the wooden handle. His vision has failed him during the past few years, and he was pretty damn sure that it wasn't going to return at a time like this. His fingers were covered in small paper cuts by the time he found it, and he decided that he would always place it back onto the table instead.

"...Now, where is that table..." he murmured as his feet struggled to avoid stepping on the various scrolls and whatnot that were scattered all over the floor. The small crinkling sound of paper made Ishaku shiver in disgust; he was ruining his very own work. Why do I have to be cursed with such bad eyesight, he brooded as his hands were finally able to slam onto the surface of the table. He let go of the brush and slowly slid onto the floor. Sighing, he took off his cap and ran a hand through his silver hair.

"If that's the case, then I'll also do my best to be the greatest Celestial Envoy ever!"

The old man's breathing temporarily stopped when he recalled that small quote. He idly wondered if he remembered who said it or not. Probably one of my students.

Crossing his arms, his eyebrows pursed in thought as he tried to remember where it came from. Several minutes passed by, and not even once did the elder's concentration seem to deteriorate. Only when the sun finally set did he shift the position of his legs. His foot hit the corner of an unusually small scroll, one that he apparently forgot to put away.

"What's this?" he said, picking it up. Although he couldn't see very clearly, he could always sense the style and quality of one's artwork. It was just a natural talent, apparently. And only one other person had that ability.

Scribbles were usually the only thing seen on scrolls as small as this, since they were reserved for children. However, there was absolutely nothing that was messy about this particular one. On the scroll's surface was a painting of Ishaku, although his appearance was slightly different. His hair wasn't completely silver, and his face wasn't as wrinkly as it was now.

Oh, he thought as he felt the painting with his palm. This was from a few years ago... but who..? His thought was broken once he read the small kanji that was written sloppily on the bottom right corner.

To: Grandpa Ishaku

From: Issun (The Greatest Artist Ever!)

Issun. The name struck the old man like lighting, his entire body becoming tense. "Issun..." he murmured, feeling the familiar name on his tongue once again. It felt strange to be saying it again after so many years.

That's right; I had a grandson. Small flashbacks started to appear in his mind, from Issun's reaction after getting Denkomaru, to his cries and wails while still a small child. At first, the old man chuckled, until he finally realized why he nearly forgot about him in the first place.

"I don't need a grandchild," he muttered as he raised himself up from the floor. "I got plenty of other people that want to be the Celestial Envoy." He recalled the uncontrollable rage and depression that overcame him when he entered this very room, only to find an empty space where one of his best paintings would usually lay.

Silently, he walked towards the entrance and exited the room. Leaning against the nearby wall, he continued to gaze at the rest of Ponc'tan. No matter how much he tried to hate the young Poncle, he couldn't help but worry for his well being. He could be dead, for crying out loud. Maybe he's just lost, or-

"Why do I even care?" he said, slapping himself on the forehead. He winced in pain as his wrist popped. He grumbled again at the mere thought of him.

But even though he ran away, he is still your grandchild, a small voice in the back of his head whispered. It's only natural for you to worry.

"He... He's no grandchild of mine. At least not anymore," he said to himself. Shaking his head, he let out a small grunt as that annoying little voice began to speak again.

Your mouth says that you don't care, but what's in your heart is what really matters.

He raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Meaning...?"

It doesn't matter if he defied you that way; that isn't a valid reason on why you should hate your own blood, the voice said. You even promised that you would help and support him in anything that he does.

"But running away like that-"

It's your fault that you pushed the poor kid too hard.

Ishaku's eyes slowly widened, now realizing what the newly-labeled nuisance was trying to say. So, maybe he was a bit too hard on him... but his intentions weren't bad at all. Now somewhat guilty, he began to fumble with the edge of his mustache. He would never forget that look of pure hatred in his eyes, the non-stop yelling and the slam of the door.

"I suppose you're right," he grumbled. "I was too harsh."

...Aaaaaand?

". . ." Ishaku paused. Was he really going to admit it now, of all times? He was completely aware of his denial, after all. He finally decided that it wouldn't matter anyway, since it was already too late. He was Ishaku, after all. He helped Shiranui save Nippon, not to mention he was the sixth Celestial Envoy.

His eyebrows drooped in dismay; he was the one who started this mess, and now he had to clean it up. "You're right..."

He raised his head once again, now looking back at the art room. He entered once again, only to hang one other single scroll right next to the doorway.

"He's grown now. He'll know what to do with his life," he murmured as he gazed at the small painting. Although his pride would never let him admit it out loud, Ishaku knew that he had no choice but to support Issun and his antics. He could have been such a great Envoy, and he still can be.

No rush... I think, he thought as he walked towards his own quarters. Once in his room, he laid down on the nearby bed and sighed.

It's his destiny, after all. No matter how long it takes, I'll be here until the very end to help.

That was the elder's last thought before his eyes closed shut.

I slacked off near the ending; I'm so lazy. I just have this bad habit of writing at late times, and my exhaustion gets the better of me. I just seem to love doing these kinds of fanfics, I guess. I have a feeling that Ishaku is pretty OOC here, but oh well. =_=;

Hm... did anyone else notice that Nagi and Nami's names are part of the names 'Izanagi' and 'Izanami'? I found that sort of interesting. :)

I'm going to bed now. I still have a lot to do before classes start.

Thank you for reading, and a review would be nice as well. Criticism is appreciated, while flaming is not.