Chapter One: Wilted Roses
Disclaimer: Me no own....you no bitch...
AN: This started as a slight tribute to the character of Shiori and became something so much more with a life of its own.
Shiori was dying.
So few words explained the situation perfectly. The avatar had tried countless times to heal her weakened body but to no avail. It was ironic really that the cancer that had once eaten away at her body had been replaced with yet another slow and merciless virus. While the kitsune had more than enough talent to cure the tumor, he did not however have the ability to cure a broken heart.
And this time there was no Forlorn Hope to save her.
Shiori was helpless to fight off the pain and anguish that was slowly eating away at her life. The car crash that had stolen both her husband and adopted son had also taken away her will to live. No matter the amount of medication that was pushed through her veins either by the human doctors or by the avatar that she called son, she simply would not fight the illness.
In her eyes there was nothing left for her in this world. Her husband and younger son were gone, and her oldest beloved baby was more than old enough to take care of himself. Besides she had left him everything. The house that she had once called home with her dear husband would be given to him when she passed as would the business that had once thrived and supported her family so comfortably. She had no worries about his future. She never had. He had always been such a bright young child and yet at times there was something almost otherworldly about him. It was as if he was not truly of this world. He was smarter than any his age should have ever been and yet colder and cruel in a way that had often frightened her.
She had often thought that perhaps she had done something wrong with him when he was a small child, that perhaps it was some fault within her that had caused him to be so very cold. And yet one day that had all changed.
Shiori lifted trembling hands to her face, taking in the many scars through blurry eyes. The day that she had saved her baby from a shattered plate and had instead carried the scars for the rest of her life. It had been so strange that day. When it was all over he had not cried, not even whimpered at the sight of the blood running down her arms and staining her apron crimson. He had simply looked into her eyes as if to ask, "Why? Why would you save me?"
And even though the question had not been spoken out loud, she had been unable to stop an answer from falling from her lips.
"You're my baby."
It was as if a light had gone on inside of his eyes. He had seemed amazed that her love for him had reached deep enough that she was willing to bleed for him. He had calmly walked outside and gathered a few of the strange plants that he had brought home and a dish towel from the counter and wrapped her hands. The bleeding and the pain had stopped almost immediately. She had been amazed and eager to ask him how he had gained such knowledge but something in his eyes had stopped her. They were a dark emerald that spoke to her of answers that she would not enjoy. She had closed her mouth and never thought to ask again.
Her strength draining Shiori dropped her hands back down to rest upon the blanket top. Taking in a deep breath she chocked back a sob. She had lied to herself for so long. She did have regrets about her baby. She was so sorry that she had not been able to cure the isolation that she had seen reflected so often in his eyes. Oh like the good son that he was he had tried to hide it from her but she had seen it in some many ways. From the books that he chose to read on philosophy and the many tragic Greek plays that he had so treasured as a child, to the tender way that he had tended his flowers. He was so alone and yet even at a young age it was as if he had already resigned himself to being isolated from the rest of the world.
She had often thought that it was as if his childhood was only time to be passed for him. As if he were simply approaching some point in his life were he would disappear forever without a trace and she would one day come to regard his existence as a pleasant dream that was simply not meant to be.
However in these past few years there had been a subtle and yet apparent change in his attitude. It was if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He laughed easier these days and his smile was for once genuine. She had thought that perhaps he had finally found a woman to give him the companionship that he needed but she had been wrong. She had seen him with those boys. The short one who always wore a cloak of some sort, the tall one with the kind look in his eyes, and the one with the messy hair who seemed rough around the edges. She had seen the humor in his eyes at their antics and the way he had stayed so close to the small one.
Her baby had friends.
She was glad that he had found people who accepted him, for who he was, not more worthless individuals who valued him only for the intelligence that he possessed.
But...she had so hoped to have a couple of darling little red headed babies to call her Grandmother. It seemed that she would not be around long enough to see her son fall in love and bring children into the world. She hoped that he would have lots of babies someday. The world would benefit from more children like her baby, and if his garden was any indication he would be a wonderful father.
Opening her eyes Shiori glanced toward the door to her hospital room when she saw the most peculiar thing. A tumble of black hair surrounding the most unsettling blue eyes. A tiny girl child was peering from around the door frame of her room with the most curious look in her eyes. Smiling slightly Shiori lifted a trembling hand and motioned the tiny child inside.
Smiling the girl walked inside and carefully crawled up into Shiori's bed. She was so trusting and so tiny that Shiori was almost convinced that she was not a child at all but a doll come to life just for her. Shiori wondered what would bring such a doll to such a horrible place and so she asked.
"Tell me little china-doll what brings you to the hospital. Should you not be home asleep on your shelf?"
The little doll answered with bell like laughter.
"Shiori-mama is so funny. Kagome is not a doll! Kagome is a little girl!!"
The woman was shocked that the girl knew her name for surely she was far too short to be able to reach the chart outside her door.
"Well then my dear Kagome-doll however did you know my name?"
The child's head tilted to the side in the most adorable confused manner before her face broke into the brightest smile.
"Shiori-mama your heart called Kagome here. Shiori-mama was so sad about her baby the Kagome had to come and give her a great big hug!!!"
With that the child wrapped her arms ever so gently around Shiori's neck and gave her such an exquisitely gentle hug that Shiori felt her eyes begin to tear. She was so shocked that this...this baby had somehow known her worries and come to comfort her. It was as if this girl had heard her hearts pain and had been compelled to come to her aid.
"Will you tell Kagome what is wrong with your baby?"Shiori smiled and while she knew that it was foolish to spill her heart to this child she could not bring herself to turn down a request from such an angel.
"My baby is very lonely Kagome-doll. He has friends now but there is still something missing in his life. Do you understand that?"
Kagome nodded slowly and Shiori could see the solemn look in her eyes that so resembled her own child.
"Kagome knows what lonely is. Kagome has no friends. Kagome is all alone in her hospital room. And when Shiori-mama goes to sleep Kagome will have no one to talk to again until her mommy comes to get her again."
Shiori could feel the meaning behind the girls use of the word sleep, Kagome knew that she was dieing.
"I am sure that you shall find..." Shiori was interrupted by the appearance of someone in the door way to her room.
"Mother." Suuichi stood in the door way his eyes fixated upon the small child in his mothers lap.
"Kitsune..." Kagome whispered out the word as if in awe her eyes never leaving the area slightly above Suuichi's head.
Shiori was fascinated by the look that sprung to life upon her child's face. The awe and surprise followed but what she would only describe as possessiveness. It was as if he had found a breed of plant that he had never before seen and was driven to posses it, to hold it close to him and let no other have it.
"Mother...who is she?" There was a waver in his voice that shocked Shiori. It was a tone that she had never thought to hear from her son, especially not towards a small child.
"This is Kagome; I invited her into my room earlier. Please don't worry she hasn't bothered me at all."
"Kagome..." Suuichi sounded almost breathless when he spoke her name, like a man presented with a priceless treasure.
"Kagome this is my son Suuichi. Don't be scared of him he would never hurt you."
"Suuichi..." Kagome voice was pitched low as well, and filled with what seemed to be a breathless anticipation that was totally inappropriate for someone of such a young and tender age
Suuichi seemed to revel in the sound of her voice caressing his name as his eyes closed briefly and a small and yet beautiful smile touched his lips before he seemed to have to forcefully snap himself back to reality.
"Mother I am sorry that I was gone for so long the call lasted far longer than I expected. I regret that I missed the arrival of such a...special guest." He slowly approach the bed, his steps measured and his expression gentle so as not to startle the child rested so cutely against his mother's body.
Shiori laughed slightly and smiled up at her son with the last of her strength fading. Her eyes fluttered closed. "Suuichi be a dear and take Kagome-doll back to her room for me."
The tiny child turned concerned eyes to the woman on the bed. She studied Shiori's face before smiling softly and leaning down to gently kiss her cheek. "Goodnight Shiori-mama! Kagome will see you again someday."
With that the child turned her eyes to the man standing behind her. He was gazing at her with an almost animalistic gleam in his eyes.
"You're not going to eat Kagome are you Kitsune-sama?"
His face reflected an almost devilish sense of humor at her choice of words.
"No dear Kagome-chan, I will not be eating you this day." 'The future on the other hand is a matter that is certainly not up for discussion.' He thought to himself as he smoothed his features into the familiar façade of calm and collectedness that he usually adapted…
At his reassurance the child seemed to make a decision within herself for she smiled one last time in the direction of the now sleeping woman and opened her arms to the man before her.
"Then will Kitsune-sama take Kagome back to her room she's sleepy?" The girl child yawned, her head tilted cutely to the side.
He found that he could not resist the child no matter how much a part of him rebelled at the idea of leaving his mother's side again at such a crucial time. Stooping down he easily captured the doll in his arms and lifting her with an almost ridiculous ease he cradled her almost too small form to his chest. As her warmth invaded his senses he did not even make an attempt to stop the almost growl like purr that resounded throughout his form. His eyes briefly drifted closed as he inhaled her scent and had to fight to keep his knees from buckling and his form from swaying.
Such an exquisite scent her small body held, a seductive mix of rain and hothouse lilies, and something else, a scent that one of her age had no right to possess, the intoxicating cinnamon that heralded only one conclusion for its source: power. Power that such a delicate being should have no part of. Unable to resist he attuned his being to the very sounds and movements of her life. Her blood rushing through her veins, the steady beat of her heart, the slight pulse underneath her skin as the water of life contained inside of her allowed her being to blossom and exist. It was almost his undoing, the careful and oh so painful attention he paid to the crimson drink that ran through her.
For the first time in his existence he found himself faced with an almost overwhelming desire to consume the flesh of a human. He tasted blood in his mouth as without his knowledge or his permission the part of him that was the Youko rose to the surface in response to the practically unfamiliar hunger that coursed through his veins as he felt the fangs that did not belong in his current form unsheathe themselves from his gums.
"What is your room number Kagome-chan?" In any other area he would have been more than able to follow her scent to her residence but he had found early on in his life that few things could distort his sense of smell like the pungent aroma of a human hospital. The mixture of medicine and death that floated through the building often made picking out one particular scent difficult for him.
She blinked up at him from where her head rested so trustingly against his chest. "Kagome's room is the one with the kitsune on the door." She answered his question softly before seeming to once again succumb to the exhaustion that plagued her body.
He was briefly confused before he realized that she must be speaking of a room in the children's ward of the hospital. In that particular wing of the building the doors and walls were decorated with brightly painted pictures of animals and other childish things in some desperate attempt to make the children who were forced to stay there somehow more relaxed. The room numbers were mostly known only to the staff and the few adults who frequented the area. Most of the children simply referred to their rooms by the animal or object that adorned their doors.
The distance that the child had managed to travel alone was rather astonishing since this floor in particular, which was reserved for terminally ill patients, was crawling with an assortment of healthcare officials. He was hesitant to simply wander down the halls of this hospital with a child clasped in his arms for he had neither the time nor the control necessary to deal with the questions that were liable to arise when the staff noticed his rather possessive grip on the body that he now cradled. Nevertheless he had agreed to accompany the child back to her room for his mother and he would not break even this promise to her. He steadfastly ignored the voice in the back of his mind that told him his reasons were much less pure than that.
Cautiously he walked back through the door that he had entered not so long ago this time looking around and calculating his chances of passing through the halls unseen which was often a feat all unto itself. Yet as he made his way through the building he noticed that when eyes fell upon their forms they seemed to quickly skirt the other way, and after some time he noticed the almost imperceptible spike of cinnamon in the air.
It was almost as if there was some undetectable force that prevented them from focusing on his form for too long and he could not help but consider where it was coming from. He passed rather unnoticed and much easier than he had previously thought possible through the corridors before he arrived at the elevator that would take him to the pediatric wing. The ride was short but provided him with plenty of time to consider his current situation and even though his mind quickly searched through every possibility it could find no other that suited the situation than the one thing that he did not wish to believe.
This small child seemed to have the ability to turn the eyes of others away from herself and whomever she so chose and almost as if she sensed his need for stealth and discretion she used her ability to keep eyes from their forms.
Quietly he made his way out of the elevator and through the brightly painted halls, passing the painted doors that held tigers, monkeys, swans, and carousals. He took a turn and then another, constantly watching for the painted shape of the kitsune the girl had spoken of until his eyes settled upon the painted figure. It was amusing and rather ironic to see that her door housed what could truthfully be called a painting of himself in his most basic form.
When he finally opened the door he was slightly dismayed to see no toys or clothes flung about the room, it was nothing at all like the rooms of the other children that he had passed on his way here. There were no drawings done in crayon or marker, no pop-up books and stuffed animals. It was as if the room was devoid of anything at all that would associate it with her. The only thing that assured him that it was indeed her room was the overwhelming scent of hothouse lilies and rain that permeated the area.
He closed the door behind him quietly on the off chance that whatever power Kagome had over those around her decided to fade. Gently he deposited her still form on the bed unable to resist the urge to gently sit himself on the edge of the mattress and run his fingers gently through her hair. The locks clung to his fingers like satin and the movement caused her scent to steal its way upwards and once again wrap itself around his mind. His eyes shut of their own accord and this time he did not fight the urge to sway in his seat, his tapered fingers running slowly through her hair.
The scent relaxed him and yet it once again brought forth that hunger and yearning that he had never really experienced before in his many years. With effort he calmed himself just in time to feel his heart skip a beat when he felt a small hand wrap itself around his fingers. Startled he looked down to see that the child he had been watching so carefully was now awake and staring at him in apparent awe, or should he say staring at some place just above his head. He turned his own eyes upwards and yet saw nothing, so concerned and confused he turned his eyes back to her smiling form.
"What is it that you see Kagome-chan?" He questioned her softly, his curiosity getting the best of him.
"Who is the pretty Kitsune-sama that goes with you everywhere Suuichi-kun?" There was the fascination of the young and yet a certain aged wisdom in her eyes when she looked at him. As if she saw him truly saw all of him and yet was unsure of just what it was that she was seeing. The question itself shocked him as had the barely whispered 'kitsune' had when he first entered his mother's hospital room.
"Who are you talking about?" He kept his voice calm and neutral.
She turned a sweet smile upon him as if his question was funny. "The pretty Kitsune-sama that stands behind you! He has really long white hair and really pretty ears, and his eyes are yellow like the ring Kagome's mommy has!"
He blanched, not able to keep the color in his face at the rather childish description of the Youko that shadowed his soul. He knew that the white hair was silver and the yellow was the burnished gold of the soul's eyes and yet how did this girl see his other soul so clearly. Never had he heard of such a thing. Not even Kuwabara in all of his spiritual awareness could see the Youko in such a manner. He knew that it was an extremely rare thing and yet he found that he could not keep from telling the child what she wanted to know.
"His name is Youko Kurama, Kagome-chan and yes he is a kitsune." He smiled down at the girl softly.
"Youko-sama? That's a pretty name. Kagome hopes she gets to see Youko and you again Suuichi…." Her yawns were back and this time he could tell that sleep was going to take her fully. So quietly he rose and grasped the blanket at the foot of the bed and gently tucked the child in.
"Yes Kagome-chan you shall see myself and Youko again, that we both promise you."
She reached her hands upwards towards him as he bent close to her form and her fingers tangled themselves in the back of his hair. He frozen when her wondering fingers came in contact with one of the many seeds that hide themselves within his hair, hiding them there was a habit that he had retained from Youko's days at large and yet never before had anyone managed to find one on the few occasions someone touched his hair. After all his energy was trained to automatically manipulate the strands to move his secret stash, and yet at this time it had failed to do so.
"Kagome is going to sleep now Kitsune-sama, go back to Shiori-mama…" Her sentence trailed off as her hands slipped free of his hair, taking with her a single seed. Kurama straightened to his full height, not trusting himself enough to kiss the child gently on the forehead as some part of him longed to do. This small girl had the ability to shake the self-control that he so prided himself on. She shook the control that others had tried desperately for years to move. He moved to the doorway intent on returning to his mother's side for another long bed side vigil. Yet as he went to close the door behind him he paused momentarily and there was a slight stir of energy in the air before he pulled the door shut softly.
As he strolled down the corridors, ignoring the curious glances of the numerous nurses who wondered how someone like him had managed to enter the ward undetected, he came to a decision. Tomorrow he would gather information on the child, tomorrow he would learn all that there was to learn about this small child that intrigued him more than the rarest of jewels.
Tomorrow he decided, he would get the answers to all of his questions.
Left behind in the small hospital room in the corner was a small and very unique child clutching a single silver rose.
The next morning dawned bright and early as he sat in the chair that had become his home these past weeks. Shiori, his dear mother had finally lost her battle as she slept. He had stayed by her side through out the night, had listened as her breathing had slowed and her heartbeat had faded, had watched as her face had flushed brightly before death had leached the color from her skin.
He sat and held her hand, feeling the skin cool as she faded from his world and into the next, as she left his care to go to Koenma. He had sat as the heart monitor had flashed signaling that the beep that was his mother's life had faded, and he had shooed away the nurses that had converged around her form. It was time for him to let her go, they had both known it. She had lived longer than she herself had desired in order to comply with his wishes.
It was time for him to let her go and so he did. He held her hand and talked with her as death had come to gather her spirit and take it to the afterlife. He only thanked Koenma for having enough sense not to send Botan for his mother's soul.
The Youko within him cried out, the cruel kitsune had become attached to the small human woman who had loved her cold and often distant child so very much. It was so unusual to find a creature that would willingly spill their own blood for another and in Shiori the Youko had found such a rare and beautiful thing.
His thoughts slipped back to the child from the night before for an instance before he shook them off. There was much for him to do this day, much he had to do for his mother. His own selfish pursuit of a child would have to wait. Though he had in all of his infinite wisdom made plans for all of the possible outcomes there were some things that the humans in the hospital did not allow to be done in advanced. They would not understand his calm and collected approach towards the death of the mother he so obviously cherished. They would never understand the control that he wielded over himself.
No he would put aside his quest for knowledge on the deliciously smelling and rather intriguing child that rested some three stories above him. He would do what was necessary to assure himself that his mother retained the dignity in death that she had so valued in life. Sighing he rose and gently folded the now cold hand that he had held for so long over the one that rest upon the now still chest. Quietly he kissed her on the cheek and left the room, finally allowing the nurses to perform their duties and to go and deal with the rather tedious paperwork that was before him. He would grieve in his own way and time.
It was a week before the avatar returned to the hospital to gather information on his newest puzzle. A week filled with preparations and the monotony of dodging the rather sickeningly false condolences that had come his way by the numerous sisters, daughters, nieces, cousins, and friends of friends that had been morbidly drawn to his home. A week of Hiei and his ever present and ever silent vigilance, the only way his friend had known to show his support and unspoken care.
A week of a curious mix of turmoil and puzzlement. His guilt over his actions towards his mother in the past warring with the guilt of being so consumed with a strange child at a time when he should have focused solely on his mothers passing. So when he passed through the doors of the children's ward it was with a heavy heart and yet a decided mind. He would find the child and calm his curious nature once and for all.
Determinedly he glided his way down the hall intent once again to find the room with the kitsune. He took the two turns and was almost at the small corner room before a voice from the nurses station stopped him.
"Excuse me sir? May I help you?" A tiny dark-haired nurse approached him with a friendly and curious smile.
He cursed the fact that he was unable to gain the access he desired unnoticed but found that he could only find fault in himself. It was his own less than vigilant self that had allowed her to notice him in the first place. So composed and with a small smile of his own in place he turned to meet her half-way.
"I am most sorry to disturb you from your duties but you see there is a small girl that was staying in the kitsune room about a week ago and I was rather curious to see if she was still here?" His smile widened in an urge to set the younger woman at ease, to assure her that he meant no harm to her or her patients.
"A week ago you say? Well I am afraid that she isn't there any longer. That room has been vacant for almost two days now." She frowned up at his much taller frame.
"I see." He frowned slightly, "Is there perhaps any chance that you could tell me where to find her?"
"I am afraid that information is confidential sir. It is against hospital policy to give out such information to those who are not family of the patient." The nurse was apologetic but he could see that she would not be bending in her status on the situation any time soon, and though he could easily drug her to get the information he wanted he found himself reluctant to take the chance of harming the well meaning young woman's mind for his own purposes.
"Thank you for you time and I am most sorry for any inconvenience that I have caused you. Good day." With that he turned on his heal and carried himself from the grounds.
As he strolled down the streets towards his finally silent home his thoughts turned to his thwarted attempts to find this child. He would locate her; this he promised both himself and the Youko. They did not take kindly to being thwarted and they found that Kagome piqued an interest in him unlike anything he had experienced in years. He would find her if he had to search every town and province of Japan himself.
All it would take would be some effort and time.
Time was one thing that he had always had plenty of.