The concept for this is from some writings over in the Yami no Matsuei fanbase. The idea is to pick a character and write a number of short pieces on things that they've never done, been, experienced, etc. I chose Karen, although I may eventually do a few for Kotori as well.

These are wonderfully fun things to write, and offer a good opportunity to explore little pocket AUs without having to go through a long story. These are dedicated to Evil Asian Genius, from whom I got the idea, and Tiamat's Child, who writes the most beautiful X one shots that I've ever had the privilege of reading. May I someday write as well.

There will be four of these, each a different look at what might have been.

--------------------------------

Know a mother's pride.

The chapel is always warm at night. Light pours through the rich oak doors as they're thrown open to receive those attending the high mass; it streams in through the windows when the sun is high, casting a blur of color like chalk after the rain down on polished marble. Then, once the doors are closed and moonlight instead courts the panes of stained glass, the heat lingers, reluctant to give way to the stars' cool silk touch.

Karen loves it. Sometimes, she thinks she can still hear echoes of the sweet hymns the choir sings, snatches of verse and chord fluttering high near the pearly ceiling as if seeking a way to spill into the open sky above. The darkness is warm and inviting, soft, inky velvet draped over the alter and blanketing the pews.

But it isn't so dark tonight. The tiny flames hang in the air around her, hovering as though lit to invisible candles. Light and shadow tangle and twine together in the dim corners, an intimate play of soft gold and feathery black. Her laughter rings in the silence, clear and sweet as a spring dawn, as she rejoices in her newfound gift.

The heavy door opens suddenly to admit a woman whose face is creased with worry. Shock overtakes the concern as her daughter turns, eyes alight, the tiny snips of fire flaring and brightening, each its own shining reflection of inner joy.

"Mama, look! Isn't it beautiful?"

Karen stands beringed in flames that toss light into the highest reaches of the chapel, framed against the alter, and the beauty and the mystery of it takes her mother's breath away, nearly driving her to her knees.

"Karen... Oh, Karen..." Her voice is breathless, catching in her throat, etched with wonder and pride.

"Mama!" Her daughter is embracing her, and she feels happy tears spilling down her cheeks as she pulls the child close.

"It's a miracle, Karen. A miracle..."

And, around them, the flames dance.