My inspiration struck me at 12 in the morning while watching Being Erica. I just typed down what I felt. I wasn't sure where this fic was going, just that I like the idea of Namine being tough and fearless. It's completely OoC from most fanfics and the games. Let's see where it goes.

This chapter merely serves as preface to the actual story. The prologue is just to set the stage for the story.

Disclaimer: Everything I write is purely for fun. I do not own any of the Square Enix characters, Disney or Final Fantasy. I do, however, own a few characters that I've made up. No character is meant to mimic anyone in real life. Any such occurrence is merely a coincidence.

Prologue - This is Where it Starts

My mother was truly the most beautiful person I'd ever laid eyes on. With her thick, dark curly hair and deep chocolate-colored eyes. Not to mention she had a figure that any girl would kill for.

Her grandfather was from India; born and raised in Delhi. Both of his parents died from Tuberculosis when he was only fifteen. He and some of his friends made their way over to the West Indies in hopes of a better life. He later married Adhira, who truly lived up to her name which meant lightning. If Niḥśabda was the peace and tranquility of a crane, then Adhira was the destruction and foreboding figure of a wild bull. They met at a marketplace in Surname where Adhira was quarreling with a spice man over the price of curry powder. A few words from my great grandfather's mouth flowing like peaceful rivers and she was a goner. Smitten by his kind soul and persuasiveness, they married at 18 and moved to Guyana where my grandfather, Andrew, was born. There he grew up and follow his parent's suit in marrying at 18.

Andrew worked as a construction builder. He soon moved his wife, Alisha, and both of his parents to United States of America. It sounded as promising as ever with more people immigrating and job prospects popping up like daisies in the spring time. In three years time my mother was born. In Miami, Florida.

My mother was lucky enough to learn Hindi from her mother, Alisha, who believed culture was something important to hold on to and pass on to future generations. "After all sweetie, that is all we have." She held on to the teachings of Gandhi and Jesus like they were gold. For Diwali, the festival of lights, she would light candles through the entire house and for Easter she would throw holy water, from the Catholic Church, on us. I love my grandma but she's crazy.

With the arrival of my uncle and then aunt, my maternal family moved to New York. My grandpa had more family living up there and had a better job opportunity. He soon took over the construction business that he initially hired on to.

~0~0~

My paternal great grandparents were a respected noble family from Okinawa, Japan. My father's father belonged to the Japanese Marine Corps. He joined fresh out of high school, holding on to the hopes of becoming a doctor. He served for two years before he was stationed in Naha. By that time his parents had already arranged a marriage with a lovely, dainty girl named Ayame. She also came from a respectable family who owned more than half of the shipping ports in Japan. And with the Odayaka's financial status wavering, Daiki accepted the proposal. Wanting to have nothing but filial piety and not wanting to disappoint his parents, Ayame and Daiki wed within five months. Talk about a shot-gun wedding. Three years passed with an unfulfilling marriage and the pressure to produce a son for Ayame.

He was then stationed in Kyoto. There he met a French woman, Éclair Farron, who's Japanese was as bad as Daiki's French. Regardless of the language barrier they fell in love and had an affair. He knew about her loneliness and she knew about his wife. And like all things in life that happen unexpectedly, a son was born. They named him Iko for the hope and new life that he brought with his birth. He told his wife that he would be stationed in France for a little while, so he could sort things out with his now complete family.

When Daiki returned from his trip abroad he ended his sham of a marriage with Ayame. He was scorned not only by her, but by his parents. They disowned him for shaming the family name and cast him out. In the divorce Ayame took the house and more than half of his bank account, probably to ease the barrenness of her womb and emptiness of her own heart.

Daiki and Éclair worked as hard as they could to save up money. And yes, you are correct. They headed straight for America.

~0~0~

My mother met my father, Iko, in high school. Although my mother was a quiet and reserved person, Nilima Pyara was not one to be messed with. I recall her saying she once tried to fight a boy twice her size.

Their freshman year my dad spent irritating her. Hitting on her friends, leaving rubber chickens in her locker, taking her things when she wasn't looking. Their sophomore year was filled with mindless flirting (and not with each other); one hanging on the arm of some jock, the other making out with a girl behind the bleachers. Their junior year they finally got together. Everything was going well. They both had plans to attend NYU; my mom for nursing and my dad for business management. My mom was close to reaching her goal of valedictorian. My dad had just started an internship with a major company in the Bronx. They both had scholarships just lining up for them.

The summer before their senior year my mom found out she was pregnant with me. She was 18 when she had me. Actually not too far off from when my grandparents had her. But this was different. She had her future all laid out for her. She had goals and plans for her life.

December 12th was her due date. But I was persistent to stay in her tummy as long as possible. I wasn't breached or anything. I just didn't think I was done cooking; I needed more time in the oven. My mom waited two and a half weeks and out I popped on the first of the New Year. Both of my grandparents were waiting for me as well as most of Mom and Dad's friends. But I think my mom was the most excited.

0.0

I've been told quite often that I favor my dad more. I have his almond-shaped eyes and golden locks. But I have my mother's brownish hazel eyes and charming smile. And my body has started telling me more and more that I'm definitely her daughter. It's getting harder to fit into my younger sister's clothes.

I love photography. I now have a top of the line camera. The one that comes with the long lens that most P.I.'s use. I would really like to pursue this, or as close to this as possible, as a career in the future. My mother would prefer I take up her profession as a nurse but that's just not me. Blood spills, cleaning bed pans, administering meds, and dealing with pompous doctors is not my cup of tea.

Speaking of which I love tea. I absolutely love it! I know I said that I don't believe in love but tea really makes me reconsider my stance. Matcha, pomegranate, peony, earl grey - they're all delicious. And I'm indebted to them for clearing my mind when it's muddled and comforting me when I'm down.

I can speak both Hindi and Japanese. Not enough to live in those countries; just enough to get around. And every time I visit my dad's parents, I pick up a little more French. They were living in France after my sister, Yuffie, was born but they recently moved back to the states. They live in a nice little château on the upper east side of Manhattan. The area is gorgeous and well-known to my frequent shopping trips. Riku usually accompanies me here. I sometimes have to force him to get a well needed haircut. My God he was beginning to look like girl with his beautiful periwinkle tresses.

It has always started with one. Until another is thrown into the equation. Like with my great grandparents or my own parents. It's always been me, myself and I. And I really don't think anything else is for me.

Authors Note: Yes I realize that all of the ancestors married at a very young age and had children young. I wasn't necessarily planning that but it happened. And it was actually very common 20, 30 years ago, especially arranged marriages. Society has broken down these fixtures, thank God, but they happened for a reason. A child was basically a women's joy. And a son was a guarantee to a man that his name would carry on. So the younger you are, the more kids you can have. And the wife and husband are happy with life. Although it is a bit different in the West Indian culture. While Asia holds deep pride in their children, West Indian parents are bit more laid back. I mean they are just as strict when it comes to getting good grades but it's not as harsh. And the majority care about all their kids equally.

I know this is a super long chapter with a longer genealogy than Genesis, but please bear with me lol. I needed to set the scene and all that good stuff. It's been at least 10 years since I've written on Fan Fiction (I recently deleted 2 stories that I wrote) and it's a process. But I am open to your ideas, suggestions, comments, concerns and anything else you want to throw my way. Reviews do help the author figure out how to better address the audience. So help me, help you.

Sook