Title: Mother
Author: CanaanAlshea
Summary: Kurama Finds Something To Live For.
POV: Child Kurama

Here you are, standing here,
Loving me, whether or not you should.
But somewhere in my youth
Or childhood...
I must have done something good...
(from the Sound of Music)

We all hear, at some point in our lives, about the notion of unconditional love. Something given without expecting anything in return; people who give themselves wholly, and without fear. Such a thing is unheard of, even deadly in the Demon World.

So, I believe one could understand why my original intentions had been selfish. I had planned to leave after a long, agonizing recuperation, hiding in the body of a human child. The fetus, the one whom I had inhabited, had been close to death. I hadn't stolen anything but a vessel. I heard Shiori's heartbeat from my place inside her belly, listened to unfamiliar sentiments and words of love between she and her husband, the child's father.

...And I heard her on the day he died.

She got a phone call. Depression, jumped in front of a bullet train with no time to stop him. He had left no note or hint aside from the two words; "I can't."

Mother suspected an affair.

She wrapped her arms around her swollen belly, swearing to raise her son right, to love him no matter what. From my place of hiding, of healing, I scoffed; what a foolish thing to promise, for had her mate not broken that same vow?

I was born as a human on January the 24th. The first thing I heard was the fierce blizzard outside, my mother's frightened cry "Is he alright? Please, is he breathing?!" I opened my eyes to see concerned faces, human sentiments suffocating me. 'I'm fine. For gods sake.'

"My word," the doctor breathed, wrapping my infant disguise in a warm cloth, "He's in perfect health. All his vitals are fine, breathing normally. He's just..quiet," I was placed in her open arms, "We'll leave you to him, Mrs. Minamino. Please call if you need anything."

I heard them muttering about halfbreeds, my shocking red hair. My god, red? I was never fond of flashy colors.

I looked up at her face and felt my body rooting for nourishment. She sobbed, kissed my scalp as I drank deeply from her breast, stealing from her from the moment I was born. "My son," she whispered, "My perfect little Suichi..."

My god. What a disgustingly charming name... I blinked, maintaining eye contact. I didn't make a sound for my first year of life.

I am nine years old today. In one years time, it will be over; it will be a beginning. I halfway listen to her pointless questions about my school, whether or not I had made friends; it seemed to be a custom to do so but getting to know those children was just so terribly dull, draining. I found all humans to be monotonous.

"Yes mother," I nodded, "I'll be sure to mention that to her on Monday." I shoved the footstool over, missing my six-foot frame as I reached for the plate she had asked for.

Clumsy human body; I slipped. I cringed inwardly, knowing in that split second that I could flip over and dodge the mess completely, but that would be a long ordeal of explainations I didn't care to enter. So I closed my eyes, braced myself for the shock of linolium and glass cutting my back.

And then...warmth?

I looked up, for the first time in years really seeing the warm brown eyes, "Suichi! Are you alright?" She grabbed me, arms cut and bleeding, scanning me up and down, "You didn't get hurt did you, baby?"

"...No, mother," I breathed, puzzled as to why she had done it, "I'm alright." What on earth had cutting herself up done? It wouldn't have been so bad for me, being protected by denim and cotton but...she had dragged her bare arms across the floor to catch me. There was blood.

"Mother..." I felt the tremors as I pulled her close; I had never noticed how lovely her cologne smelled, "Mother, mother..." I could think of nothing else to say. She embraced me, kissing my scalp, "Baby, it's ok, it's ok...my baby."

I'm eleven now. I'm eleven and looking up at her from my place in line. She's counting bills to pay for groceries; they've gotten more expensive these last few months. I scan the items, calculating, "Mother," I murmer, rearranging them on the belt, "If we put the cereal, bread, and milk back...it will be much less. You'll have left over. I don't need them, really. Here, let me-" She pulled me against her side, kissing my temple where my hair was finally growing into an acceptable length, "Don't think of it, darling," she whispered, "I know how much you like bread and jam for breakfast. Really, we can afford it." I sighed, "You're stubborn." She just smiled, shrugged;

"Would you like to go to the park next, darling?" she smoothed my bangs out of my eyes, her hands dry and warm, "The cherry blossoms have come early this year and I know how much you must have missed your tree." Shiori winked and payed quietly, her face betraying nothing about how close we were cutting it on this paycheck.

I carried the cans; they were heavy.

"Mother..." I pause on the sidewalk and she stops next to me, smiling brightly, "Yes? Is everything alright?" I feel my cheeks heat up, my heart beat just a little faster. "Fine. I just...wondered..." I felt foolish asking so I just...did. I reached for her hand, expecting her to pull away, or swat at me, embarassed.

She squeezed my hand, beaming and walking in time with me, "You wondered what?" I felt my face stretch in a wide smile, "I wondered if you might like to play on the swing with me. We haven't done so in a while. You enjoyed it last time, yes?" Whimsical activites amused her and I found myself...calm when she was happy with me. "My son," she kissed my cheek, "I would like nothing more."

I suppose...somewhere in my youth, or childhood...to gain this woman as a mother...

I must have done something good.

END