Author's Note: Another short drabble about Naruku that I never got around to posting. White Rabbit, I hope you enjoy this, and all other fans of Naruku, thanks for reading.
She remembered when Naruku had first come to them—such a solemn child, seeming years beyond her young seven. No one quite knew what she had been through. All the others—Okina, Hyottoko, Omasu— fussed over her constantly, trying to get her to eat, sleep, talk…anything.
But she was motionless, more like a statue than a little girl. And somehow, the Aoiya became her companion in silence. No one spoke loudly or made sudden movements. It was as if they were all the food of a tiger, and each one was trying to outmatch the other in stillness, creeping silently to evade the watchful beast.
It's often difficult for children to pick up on what seems known to everyone else. Misao was no exception. She knew nothing of tiger's food or silence, and her participation in the stillness was merely accidental, as if she were merely too caught up in her own thoughts of sunshine and desserts to bother making any noise. But that changed.
It was a short fall, but to Misao's five-year-old self, it was worthy of tears. And so she bawled in the middle of the floor, and Beshimi, with Shikijo on his heels, ran to hush her. But despite his best efforts, she cried on, one continuous sob.
Her cries attracted the attention of several other Aoiya residences; Okina, Omasu and even Aoshi arrived at the scene. They didn't approach Misao, but instead stayed back in the hallway to look on.
For at that moment, Naruku stepped into the hall, floating like a ghost toward Misao. Beshimi and Shikijo panicked, stepping away from Misao, but watched in curiosity as Naruku came closer. She hadn't truly acknowledged any of them in the week she'd been there—in fact, Okina had joked on a number of occasions that she was giving Aoshi a run for his money in the way she regarded everyone so stoically.
But in that moment, Naruku's unfocused eyes focused for the first time, and she knelt next to Misao, encircling the younger girl gently in her arms. This surprised everyone—everyone, that is, except Misao.
Misao smiled a wide, placid smile in Naruku's face. Slowly, as if her face was unused to the expression, Naruku returned the grin. The others watched in bewilderment as Misao picked herself off the floor and exclaimed loudly that she had to show Naruku something, and the two took off together, giggling and running up to Misao's room.
They stayed all day together, their joyful laughter ringing throughout the once morose Aoiya. Outside they chased carrier pigeons and climbed rough-barked trees. Inside they tormented Omasu with their constant questioning and their pleading for mochi. Cheerful chatter that only they fully understood brightened dinnertime at the Aoiya. And at night Misao and Naruku fell asleep side-by-side, their puffs of breath nearly matching in frequency as sleep, the deep, truly immersed kind that only a small child could have, claimed then.
Because Naruku had finally awoken, and now, she could sleep.