A/N: Okay. So, this is a new concept that is completely different for me. But...this is an idea that I have had for a really long time now. I welcome reviews. I embrace dialogue. But...know...that this is by far the closest story to my heart. And my soul. So...I only ask that you treat this work with kindness. Please.
I'd also like to give special thanks to such authors as GlaxyVisonary, and Amethyst Creates. Because of you guys. Your courage. Your bravery. Your conviction in the face of a world of adversity. You...have given me the strength and resolve to make this work a reality.
Walking through the crowded plaza, he felt...
Small.
Insignificant.
Nervous.
Anxious.
...afraid...
He felt, afraid.
But then, he always had around large groups of people.
Ever since he had been old enough to play outside with other children...on the rare occasions he was healthy enough to do so.
This deep-seated fear of others hand been so deeply ingrained in him since the very beginning.
'Don't get too close.'
Because...he was cursed.
Afflicted.
...a freak...
Even his own mother saw him this way. As she walked along side by side with him in the crowded shopping center, even she kept her distance. So much so, that she didn't even want him living with her under the same roof, having given him to his older cousin as a playmate.
...even she didn't want him...
Not really.
If she had, she would have kept him...wouldn't she?
Even on the rare occasions she came to see him. Take him out of the estate. He knew. She didn't really want to be with him. Even now, as they walked together, it was only because she had needed to take him to pick out a gift for his cousin. For the New Year's banquet. Even this outing wasn't about spending time with him.
It never was.
It was always about his cousin.
As they walked through the mall, looking for a gift, Yuki found his gaze and attention wandering elsewhere. To the lights. The trees. The beautiful decorations. The colors.
So many colors.
Reds.
Greens.
Gold.
Sliver.
Then his large, lavender eyes landed on all of the figurines. Taking them in with child like wonder and curiosity. He left the estate where he lived with his cousin so rarely that all of these novel objects held such a strange fascination for him. Holding his attention as he unintentionally slowed his walk, finally coming to stop at a display he'd never really seen before.
Small, porcelain figurines of people and animals were set in what looked like a barn. Circling a man and a young girl. In the middle...a tiny baby in a crib filled with straw. And all eyes were turned and centered around that child. Gazing upon him with the same awe and wonder that Yuki himself held.
Even at the tender age of four, Yuki could tell that the man, woman, and baby made a family. But...there was something he didn't quite understand. Something so completely foreign to him.
The expressions of the man and woman as they looked at the baby.
It seemed so...
...so...
Kind.
The soft, faintest hint of a smile painted on the figurine of the young mother. She was smiling. At her baby.
And Yuki suddenly found himself longing for that same look from his own mother.
"Yuki!" The harsh snap of his name called his attention back to reality as he met the stern expression of his mother. "What are you doing?" And...for a moment...he found himself at a loss for words.
But as he found the courage and bravery to use his voice, his own infantile features furrowed along the question now plaguing him as his large lavender eyes gazed intently at his mother.
Just one question.
"Mama..." His voice manifested soft and quite as he spoke. "...who are they..?" He asked, indicating the porcelain family in the barn as his mother met this question with a scowl.
"It's just a silly, pointless display for a holiday we don't observe." She retorted with a huff of disapproval towards his curiosity. "Come along. We're here to find a gift for Akito-Sama."
With this, she grabbed him along his tiny wrist with her long, bony finger as he let out a small whimpered squeak. A testament and sign of his cursed spirit.
Not his hand, like other mothers with their children. But his wrist. And she tugged him away from the display harshly as he gave one last wayward glance to the figuring mother gazing at her baby.
Wishing.
Hoping.
That one day...
...maybe...
He would receive the same kind smile.