I don't believe I'm actually doing this right now, but I had a strange urge to…Well, hope it is a pleasant surprise! I miss fanfiction! I know I deserve to be clubbed with a giant hammer on the head but hey! Life is too fully!

So after years of waiting…..Here comes a new Chapter!

Springtime

The following events came in toppled one on the other. To abbreviate the taciturn discovery that was my existence, I shall say this much: that my mother had undergone excruciating pain once I was conceived, and that my father marvelled at the prospect of making my mother truly his. To elaborate, I should say that he was strangely obsessively compulsive with the human he had coerced to accompany him. I believe his sickening desire to be loved back as he loved her drove him on the edge of psychosis. Perhaps he thought that her pregnancy might have lulled her towards him and softened at my expense. Ultimately, he was carnally desperate for fierce emotions that constituted a large, hollow void within him. Had he known the effects of pregnancy on my mother, I am sure he would have never married her.

Mother was young- barely fourteen when she discovered her fecundation. Her hips were still narrow with youth and tender age and her frame grew fragile with the accumulation of humiliation and the continuous desire to die. Moreover, she had gradually stopped eating. I can only assume that her inner being became volatile and withdrawn from her distress. All these factors made her pregnancy harder than it should have been.

One evening, she had a troublesome migraine that had made her pass out at numerous intervals. She had spent eight days in bed because of it. And once it was gone, it was only to be replaced by strange allergies all over her limbs that were quite violent. Once the eruptions turned her skin tissues into an alarming shade of purple, the healing agent appointed by Kishu seriously informed the latter that he was afraid that Ichigo had caught a dangerous virus that was disintegrating her cells.

"I fear that her body is ill suited for this planet. I'm afraid that if it is indeed a virus inducing necrosis, Master Kishu, we won't be able to stop it before it reaches her vital organs."

Father had glanced at my mother helplessly, his face ashen.

"We'll do what we can." And with these words, the healer departed.

Luckily for both my parents, it was not necrosis. Mother's legs were blotchy but she could still move her limbs and felt no numbness in her extremities. The healer said it was a good sign- that the allergy was superficial and that her cells- although quite blistered on her skin- were very well intact and not dying prematurely. After two weeks, the purple and blue shades faded to a healthy red, leaving rashes and healing scars and slight inflammation. But overall, it was less severe than the preceding month. It was only in her second month of pregnancy that my mother experienced "human" symptoms. She wept regularly and found herself nauseated by the smell of the carpet itself.

Extremely puzzled and irritated with these strange outbursts, my father had called the healer for the last time. After describing what mother's condition and her unusual habit of pouring wine over strawberries every night since her allergies, the healer's face brightened and laughed out loud. "Well it could only mean one thing," he said, smiling.

Father looked apprehensively from mother to the healer and asked what was this "one thing".

"Well," the healer beamed and kept looking back at the pair before his eyes. When no one said anything, he exclaimed happily: " Congratulations! You will be parents!"

My mother raised her eyes at him. "Parents?" She asked.

"Yes, parents! You are pregnant! Ah! I understand now, all your allergies and your headaches! The genetic code of your husband was alien to your body. But it still worked! Cyniclones and humans are not that different after all."
With a last chuckle, the healer told my mother to rest and to call him if her body made any new protests against the alien embryo, and left my parents motionless, sitting on their royal bed.

Mother and father stared in the empty space for a long time. Then out of a sudden, father burst into merry laughter that brought tears to his eyes. He then sighed and fell back into bed, gazing dreamily and smiling.

"Parents, Ichigo. Parents! Can you imagine! Our child…" and he slept on her lap.

Mother was stunned. Parents. She was going to be a mother. At that moment, her feelings for me were mixed: she hated me for being part my father, for being part her- The one who has caused the downfall of her planet- then she was fond of me because I would be hers: that I would be her comfort on this planet. Then she didn't know what she was feeling because she herself needed her mother's love- yet the way she was programmed made her instinctively love me. But that last part, she didn't know it until much, much later in life.

The remaining seven months symbolized great confusion and great pain for that 14 year sold human girl. She was aught with a homesickness that had not abated and suffered from regular fevers followed by inflamed gums and tonsils. The healer said it was a normal reaction, and that meant that my mother's body was gradually accepting the fetus in her womb.

Father had set up a nursery with a gentle touch of paternal love. He had chosen a haze of soft blue, gold, and pink for the overall decoration. "Like a baby nebula," he had said to my mother, with such a sweet smile, that her mood was lifted slightly.

Sometimes I fancy that my father must have loved me for me and not only for my mother. He had spent days frozen in front of my new crib, daydreaming in the space that I would occupy in a few months. I am sure that my existence must have made him glowed inside for the sole purpose of fatherhood. Girl or boy, it did not matter, I was part of him and therefore would love him back unconditionally.

It was a peaceful moment for him. No one could wake him from his nirvana. Well, not until my mother's contractions woke the whole south wing of the castle.

He started running frantically from his room bellowing for servants, assistants- anyone to help him out.

As for my mother, she was so weakened by the whole pregnancy; that she was screaming for dear life. The dilation of the membrane was throbbingly slow and her birth canal seemed unsuited to accommodate the passage of a child. Nothing could soothe her and she was so certain to die on that night. Father was screaming in a high-pitched voice that she aught to be saved or he would slaughter everyone- everyone.

After eighteen hours of screaming and laying motionless on her bed, I had finally glided down and was ready to be pushed out. I came out at 3 in the morning, healthy, screaming at top of my lungs, with a mass of green hair and yellow eyes shut tight. I did not possess the Cyniclone ears or a tail- yet.

Father took me in his arms hesitantly, and looked at me.

"It's a girl, Ichigo. She has your face…look…just like you, Koneko-chan." He sat down next her head as he said those words, holding me out next to her face. My mother's expression remained impassive as she turned to face me slowly. Curiosity had crossed her features and she held out her hand towards me, which paused in mid air. Then after a moment, she withdrew her hand away and turned her head away. Father's stare hardened on her and then it dawned on him: she will never love him. Greatly perturbed with new wound to his pride and the reopening of old lacerating heartaches, he handed me to a maid and told her curtly to take care of me, before slamming the door behind him and he was gone.

Mother didn't even grant me a glance.

This was technically my "last" encounter with my parents. With the years, I was given the name "Haruka" for the season of my birth, with was prolonged into "Harukame". I was raised by my servants, who clothed me and made sure I ate properly. But otherwise, besides the benefits my status could offer, I was pretty neglected. As a child, I was dreamy and quiet yet aware enough to know that neither my parents loved me, nor that I was like any other beings. The offspring of royalty scorned me as I was the "half-breed" and refused to play with me. But I didn't mind. Unlike them, I had a huge imagination, which sufficed. By the age of four, my tail had grown and I had the ability to levitate my body 7 feet above the ground. So I spent the days in fields of marigolds, levitating my body and felt the breeze of the wind, dreaming of Earth. We were near to our objective, had announced our leaders. Earth will be ours soon!

And so I laid in my bed at night, listening to my maids, talking about Earth. How gorgeous mountains sloped down to rivers, and fields of all sorts of flowers with numerous extraordinary organisms roaming nature.

"Sea creatures, of all colours, of all forms! Can you imagine? And that blue! Oh that blue! Too bad its intoxicated with human waste!"

And as soon as any conversation about Earth resulted in the mentioning of humans, the talk was diverted quickly, for I was within earshot.
At this young age, I could not tell whether I was ashamed of being part human or not. That degrading talk about humankind did not attain me, for I did not see my self as one. True I possessed no clone ears, but I had the ability to teleport, to levitate and I had a tail!

But it seemed to make no difference. I was forever the outcast.

To be a human was to be the lowliest creature in a Cyniclone's book. Humans were said to be incestuous and lewd creatures, who killed other creatures for sport, who exported each other, who ate each other even, who ruined each other's lives for the sole purpose of entertainment. I eavesdropped on these conversations, and pondered about that woman who was my mother and whether she was as monstrous as described.

One day, a group of rebels have tried to infiltrate our teleportation portals in order to bomb this planet. Unfortunately for them, they got caught by an admiral and were set to burn at the stake. Looking at them, I decided that they didn't look harmful at all. In fact, they looked underfed and pitiful, with no trace of natural weapons that has earned them the reputation of the most dangerous creatures.
There were four boys and a girl, all in rags and most of them were bleeding. I felt sympathy as the crowd of people gathered and spat in their faces. They were to be burned at the stake the next day.

This event had greatly affected me and for the first time in my existence, I felt pity for the human that was my mother.

She used to spend her days sitting on a chair on the opposite side of the fields of marigold, her grown out red hair protruding from her skull. She sat on a chair constantly, staring avidly in empty space. My father and her did not utter words to each other since my birth, and he was prostrate with fury and sick with love. She was engulfed in her own drama, and did not have time for him. I believe she was waiting to die.

One day, seeing her from a distance, a strange emotion overcame me and I bent down to pick a bunch of marigold. Slowly approaching her, my marigolds huddled in my hands, I inwardly felt shocked at I was doing.

Timidly, I held out the marigolds, waiting for a reaction. After it seemed to be an eternity, she looked up and cocked her head sideways, stretching her hand towards the flowers. When she took them, I had a rush of adrenaline and sprinted towards the castle.

My father had never showed an ounce of attention to me after the day I was born. Sometimes I believed his stare invariably fell on me, only to find that I must have imagined it.

The only one who ever showed me attention was Pai. However, his gaze made me uncomfortable as if he was trying to discern something he could not fathom.

My fifth birthday marked a new war in Earth. And this time, humans were taking over slowly. This seemed to stir my mother just ever so slightly.

The years passed and the resemblance I bore to Ichigo Momomiya became more pronounced day after day. My hair was long and green and my eyes were a sulphurous yellow, but that blush and my cheeks and my traits- all that belonged to my mother.

I was not unattractive. By the age of 12, many a glance was thrown in my direction, and it was not out of pure spite but of something like…curiosity, admiration? I could not tell

I'm gonna stop at my fourteenth birthday. The day everything changed. And I mean EVERYTHING.

Starting with that dearest mother of mine…

Ok guys, I'm tired and exhausted. I hope I have satiated your requests to some extents. Read and Review, people! I miss you!

Sophia.