Title: Papa!
Author: CanaanAlshea
Summary: Yoko Kurama Finds Baby Hiei...And Yoko Kurama Is Not The Heartless Thief Everyone Thinks He Is!
Chapter One; Kurama POV
"Stupid," I hissed to myself, "to think the fucking stems actually existed..." I had wandered into the arctic lands in the middle of nowhere, following the legend of Crocus Sativus (1) only to find frozen, iced ground and not a living thing inside. Legend held an ancient village of ice maidens that lived here...but this too, I found, was complete and utter bullshit. "Idiots," I whispered, wrapping my cloak tighter around myself, "I'll have their heads for..."
My ears perked at the new sound. It sounded almost like...a kit? But what sort of kit could be found out here, without caves or life to be scented? I shook my head, certain hypothermia was affecting my judgement.
But, lo, there it was again. My ears swiveled with the wind, 'I must be going crazy'. I laughed at myself as I wandered further, white as the snow surrounding me, perfect camouflage in search of the strange noise. And, after all, what better way for a kitsune to die than in the arms of hallucinations? Why, I would be legend amongst my kinfolk...!
I yelped as I tripped over a lump in the snow. Thinking it to be a low level demon also lost in the wilderness, I grew a thorny vine over my arms, prepared to rid myself of the annoyance.
What I found instead What was a tiny bundle, wrapped in bandages and wards. I looked around, prepared for the trap I was sure had been set; 5 tails sprung behind me as I transformed, my true form more intimidating in this world. I heard the wind whistling, the weak cry of the child. Cocking my head, I pawed at it, just a little. Tiny hands reached up, grabbed my ear.
Oh my god... It was definately a humanoid infant. It reeked of excrement. Gnashing my teeth, I dug my claws into the ice, certain a mother would appear from the fog to claim me as a meal for her newborn. I heard only the weak cry, the stronger howl of the wind.
"Little one...are you alone?" I nudged it with my nose, dug a little beneath the bundle it was wrapped in. No other signs of life. Only a tiny baby, tightly bandaged like a mummy. I looked up. Left. Right. All over. No kin. Then why was the little kit alone? Snorting, I turned, prepared to be on my way...
But then, it cried again.
Oh goddess, DAMN my nurturing instinct! Mother always said it would be my undoing, my weakness, watching the other kits from my shadow in the den. And this little kit HAD no den, no one I could see. 'If you can hear me' I spoke telepathically, 'Tell me if you are alone.' It stopped crying, looking at me with eyes so brightly red, unnatural in my own kind. If this were a cursed child, cast aside by the maidens who reigned here, so ruled by supersticion...then it was a lone child. And if it was a diguise, a predator, a fine meal it would make...
1: an actual plant in Greek mulythology. Its red stems were thought to contain blood. According to legend, the god Krokos became immortal by this plant. I found it fitting for the elusive Yoko Kurama...