A/N: So, here's the second chapter of this little fic. There will be another [short] chapter or two on him growing up, but after that is when it will start to get interesting (in my opinion). This chapter I could honestly take or leave, but I figured jumping him from baby straight to when he became wicked wouldn't really convey my point-that he wasn't always evil. Enjoy!

Word Count: 817

Unaccepted

"You're never gonna catch us!" one kid teased, always staying just beyond Onigumo's reach as he chased the youkai children of the village around in a version of tag. He never noticed the differences between them—how he, Onigumo, was human, while the children—and adults—all around him were youkai. In the five years of his life, he'd been living there, and truthfully he knew nothing different.

Onigumo panted as Sanjiro, one of the small inuyoukai children, stayed just beyond his reach, teasing him by letting him get close and then leaping away. He was going just slow enough for it to be considered human speed—but just fast enough that there was no way Onigumo could catch him. "Am too!" Onigumo argued, though he didn't have much faith; he'd played this game with them many times, and he'd always been 'it' and never caught anyone.

The children of the village had been instructed not to mention the fact that Onigumo was human—especially since that fact had never quite been mentioned to Onigumo himself. But of course the youkai children knew—and as a result, they couldn't help but see Onigumo as being a joke. They were all much older than he was in years, and their minds developed more quickly—so they teased him without him knowing he was being teased.

Sanjiro chuckled as he let Onigumo get just a little bit closer than usual, and then dashed out of the way. And then—"Ouch!" Onigumo fell forward, his face hitting the dirt. Sanjiro's nose wrinkled as he caught the scent of Onigumo's blood, and then took a couple steps back.

"You okay?" There was a small hint of concern in the boy's tone, causing a few of the other youkai children to snicker. Quickly, Sanjiro jumped back so that he was with the rest of them, and then started laughing, trying to cover up his earlier slip. "You're not gonna be a crybaby, are you?"

Standing up, Onigumo brushed some of the dirt off of his haori, smearing the dirt and blood on his sweat-drenched face. "O-of course not," he sniffled. He was only five years old, but the youkai children had already grown out of crying whenever they hurt themselves—of course, they also healed much more quickly than he did. Despite his declaration not to cry, the tears blurred in his eyes when the other kids continued laughing at him, and he turned around and high-tailed it home.

"Honey, what happened?" Akiko's voice was laced with concern as she dabbed a wet cloth above Onigumo's brow, where the biggest cut was.

"I fell down when we were playing tag, and the other kids laughed at me," he sniffled out, though he had calmed down considerably now that he was in the arms of his mother.

It was at that point that Daichi entered the hut—he had smelled his son's blood and his tears, and come running. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw how small the situation was. Akiko looked up at him with a sad smile before turning her attention back to her only son.

"It'll be okay, sweetie." She finished washing the blood and dirt off of his face, she placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "But, it's time for you to get to bed." Onigumo looked up at her with sleepy eyes and only nodded before Akiko picked him up, carrying him over to his cot and tucking him in.

"Goodnight, dear," she murmured softly, kissing his forehead again, just above his brow where the scratch was.

"Night, Mama."

"Goodnight, son," Daichi said almost as quietly as Akiko, and gave Onigumo's hair a little ruffle and a smile.

"Night, Papa."

"We can't do this for much longer," Daichi said, his voice low for fear of waking Onigumo. They were in their own bedroom, but the night was quiet, and Onigumo was notorious for not sleeping through the night.

"I know…" Akiko's eyes drifted to the floor, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "I just hate to uproot him from everything he knows and seclude him…"

"He's going to start noticing something soon, you know. The other kids are going to appear ageless to him, and soon he's going to realize that he is growing and they aren't." Daichi reached out and took Akiko's hand, his thumb tracing gently over the top of her hand. "We could always just…tell him," he said, his voice a whisper now—more for his mate's sake than because he was afraid his son would overhear.

"N-no…we can't. Not yet." Akiko's voice was shaky, as it always got when this subject came up. "He's not old enough."

"Fair enough," Daichi agreed, and then took a deep breath.

"We'll move next week," Akiko whispered, "to just outside the human village that helped us when he was a baby."

End Note: Please review!