Hello all! I know most holidays are a ways away, but if I posted this on
Christmas Eve, then no one would have the time to read it! Anyway, a few
things before we get started:
I know the Christmas traditions in Japan are a bit different than they are here, but I am sadly culture ignorant and don't know how the Japanese celebrate Christmas. So, for my purposes, the Christmas celebrated in this story will be as if it had been celebrated in the u.s.
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho.
Merry Christmas!! (or anything else that anyone might celebrate!)
-Nagem
Shiori knew something was wrong even before she reached the house. The cold, December air nipped at her cheeks and face as she hurried through the new fallen snow toward her home. The snow crunched under her feet as her steps quickened. (Please let nothing have happened while I was gone,) Shiori thought. She had just finished her Christmas shopping, the holiday being a mere two weeks away. Shiori shivered and pulled her coat tighter around her. She sighed in relief as she saw turned the corner and saw her home, appearing to be unscathed. (Just a silly little fear,) she told herself. As she walked up to the front door, a teenaged girl burst out, looking panicked and Shiori could see her eyes darting around frantically. As the girl's eyes lit upon her and footsteps came her way, Shiori noticed that the girl had many plant parts in her hair, mainly rose petals.
"What happened?" Shiori asked, approaching the girl. To her surprise the girl backed away and almost fell into the snow. Once she had recovered herself, she glared at Shiori.
"I am never baby-sitting that demon-child again!" Most mothers would have snapped, "He is not a demon-child!!" but Shiori was not sure anymore. Even at age two, her Shuichi was not like other toddlers at all. He kept to himself, even when the other little kids wanted to play with him. When he fell, he would not let Shiori see his wounds, and refused the hugs and kisses she offered him. When she tried to engage him in normal human activity, he would refuse and turn a deaf ear on her half-hearted scolding. That was why he had missed the first Christmas of his life.
"As you wish," Shiori said, digging her checkbook out of her purse. "How much do I owe you?" The girl tilted her head to one side, as if she were listening to an unheard sound.
"Bill me later," she said, running off. Shiori swallowed and entered her home. Everything appeared to be normal, save the fact a few plant pots were knocked over, and the fine potting soil was spilled on the rug. In the middle of it all was Shuichi, a rose in his hand, fast asleep on the couch. For a moment, Shiori felt a slight rush of rage at the babysitter.
"Shuichi couldn't have done anything, he's fast asleep!" Shiori whispered as she set her purchases down on the floor next to the couch and picked her son up. Shuichi made a face and fussed a little, but calmed down after a few moments. Shiori saw his hand tighten around the rose, as if he were going to lash out with it somehow, then relaxed, but didn't drop the rose. She sighed and carried him up to his room, setting him down in bed.
The next morning Shiori opened her eyes to see Shuichi's green ones. They blinked, and then he backed away from her as she sat up. Shiori took a moment, taking in her son's flaming, almost blood-red hair, cut short after a long fight between mother and son, and his green eyes that always seemed to look into her soul. She realized she had fallen asleep on the couch, wrapping Christmas presents. Shiori peeled some tape off of her arm, and then smiled at Shuichi.
"Hello, there," she said. Shuichi made a sound something like a 'hn', and replied.
"Okaa-san," he said. Most two-year-olds would address their mother with respect, love, and fear, but Shuichi spoke the name with scorn, almost as if Shiori were the inferior one. He looked around at the messy room. "What were you doing?" For one so young, he spoke with amazing clarity, and anyone could tell that each word was thought out carefully.
"Wrapping Christmas gifts," she said, getting up and walking to the kitchen. She heard Shuichi follow her. That was the one normal thing about him; he still had trouble with motor skills, as most children did when not used to their bodies.
"Why?" Shiori sighed. They had gone through this the year before as well.
"Because, we give gifts on Christmas," Shiori said. "It's traditional." Shuichi tilted his head to one side. "I've explained all of this to you before . . . then again, maybe you don't remember." (He was only one year old, after all,) Shiori said to herself.
"Yeah, I remember now," Shuichi said. He walked over to a corner and set up a plant that Shiori had forgotten about the night before. He ran his fingers gently along the leaves, and briefly, so briefly that Shiori was sure she had imagined it, a smile crossed his face. That was why Shiori had so many plants in the first place; they were the only things that seemed to get through to him. "Is that when we get the big evergreen tree?"
"Yes," Shiori responded. "You like the tree then?"
"Yeah," Shuichi said. Shiori watched as he walked around the room, picking up the plants that she had neglected to look after the night before. He brushed the potting soil off of his hands as best he could.
"Are you going to participate this year?" Shiori asked. At first, she scolded herself for sounding so rude, but quickly quieted the voice in her mind. (Might as well fight fire with fire,) she thought. Translation; counter Shuichi's rudeness with her own.
"I don't know," Shuichi said. Fleeting visions of the Christmas tree flitted across his mind for a few moments. He heard Shiori sigh.
"Will you at least cooperate?" she asked, hoping for a positive answer. Shuichi thought about it for a moment, and the nodded. Shiori thanked any higher power that might have been watching over her at that moment. With only two weeks left and her husband away on a business trip, Shiori was not sure she could get Christmas set up with a two-year-old like Shuichi being uncooperative. "Thank you," she told her son, but she knew better than to try and hug him, and it broke her heart. Shuichi nodded and left the room. A moment later Shiori heard him clamoring up the stairs.
"Shuichi!! Do you want to come down and help hang the lights on the tree?" Shiori paused for a moment, then smiled to herself as she heard her son come down the stairs. When he stood in front of her, unsure what to do, she handed him a string of lights. "Here, you wrap them around the tree," she said, demonstrating what she wanted her son to do. "All right, you give it a try." Shiori watched for about ten minutes, and then, deciding that her son wasn't having any problems, walked into the kitchen to check on the cookies she had been baking. It was only going to take her a minute, after all.
"Okaa-san! Okaa-san!!" Shuichi yelped a few moments later. "Help!!" Shiori dashed into the room to see her son tangled up in the lights, trying to fight them. He yelped as the lights began to constrict around his throat, and his eyes went wide with fear.
"Shuichi!" Shiori yelled, trying to make herself heard over the noise the incident had brought. "Stay calm! Don't fight it!" As her son tried to take deep, calming breaths, Shiori dove in, and began untangling the lights.
"Okaa-san," Shuichi choked out a minute later. "I . . . can't . . . breathe." Shiori glanced up at him. His face was bright red, and Shiori could see spots of blue on his cheeks.
"Shuichi, hang on," she whispered. With a last tug of the cord, the lights came free, and she heard Shuichi gasp for breath. "Are you all right?" she asked as he wheezed.
"Yeah," he replied a moment later. "Thanks." He gave her a quick hug, leaving Shiori stunned and dazed for a few moments, before walking back up to his room.
"That was odd," Shiori said to herself, her mind still trying to grip the fact that Shuichi had shown her a sign of affection. (Don't get used to it,) said a small voice in her mind. Still, a small smile played across her face as she hung up the rest of the Christmas decorations.
"It's Christmas Eve, aren't you even the least bit excited?" Shiori watched Shuichi, who was dressed in his bright-red pajamas with little reindeer, snowmen, and Santas printed on them. He was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the television, which was flashing a random Christmas program. He had yet to show any of the excitement that ran throughout the other children his age. Shiori sighed, (It's not like there's anything different there,) she thought. Although he had been slightly more polite (affectionate was not the right word, for he still dodged her hugs and spoke to her with a hint of scorn) since the incident with the Christmas lights. "Shuichi? Are you excited at all?"
"Wha-?" Shuichi said, having been totally distracted by the television at that moment. "Excited?" he asked, turning his head toward Shiori, who nodded. Then he shrugged. "Not really."
"Why not?" Shiori asked.
"Oh, I guess there's not a whole lot for me to expect from Christmas," he said. "I see all these programs about children getting presents from Santa Claus, but I guess that's not really for me. I haven't been good enough." Shuichi trailed off, his attitude conflicting between adult-like wisdom and childish longings. Shiori suddenly felt sorry for him.
"You're better behaved than most two-year-olds are," Shiori offered. Shuichi looked as though he would have liked to argue that statement, but dropped it.
"Yeah," he mumbled. He glanced over at the presents beneath the tree, and frowned. "Okaa-san, in all the Christmas programs I see, there are many presents under the tree, but ours doesn't seem to have any at all." Shiori sighed, and put down the book she was reading.
"I know, Shuichi," she said. "It's partially because we have such a small family, and partially because Tou-san isn't here." Shuichi nodded thoughtfully. "Most of the presents are for family that will be here in a couple of days."
"We're spending Christmas alone again?" Shuichi asked. Shiori nodded, then she looked up at the clock. Shuichi turned back to the television.
"Shuichi, time for bed," she said. He let out a heavy sigh, and made his way up the stairs. Shiori sighed. "He's so different." She turned off the television, and followed her son up the stairs. When she got to his room, the lights were out and he was on his side in bed, curled up into a little ball. "Shuichi?" He looked up at her. "Do you want me to read you a Christmas story?" She held up the picture book copy of one of the Christmas stories.
"Sure," he said, sitting up. Shiori turned the lights on and sat down next to him. When she opened up the book, Shuichi smiled at the first picture. This gave Shiori a boost of confidence, and she began to read in a loud, clear voice.
"'All the whos down in Whoville liked Christmas alot. . . . "
The next morning, Shuichi was up bright and early with Shiori, and they went down to open the Christmas gifts. As Shuichi had expected, there were no new gifts under the tree. Shiori opened a few of the ones that her husband had sent her, and smiling, tucked them away. After all of her presents were gone, Shuichi got up and began to walk toward the stairs, fully intending to spend the day with the rosebush in his room.
"Shuichi," Shiori called before he reached the stairs.
"Nani?" the two-year-old asked, turning around. Shiori held up a brightly colored bag that was full to bursting with something.
"This is for you," she said. She had to hold back laughter at the look of pure shock on her son's face. He walked over without saying a word, and took the bag from her. He stared at it. "Open it," Shiori prompted. Shuichi complied, pulling tissue paper out of the bag, revealing a stuffed teddy bear. He pulled it out and looked at her, eyes bright.
"You . . . got this for me?" he asked. "You didn't leave me out of Christmas because I've been bad?" Shiori then realized that he had missed his first Christmas because he thought that he had been bad. She felt bad for Shuichi, and reached out to him, pulling him into her arms. Surprisingly, he didn't pull away.
"Oh, Shuichi," she said. "I don't care if you've been bad. I love you, and I wanted to show that I care about you."
"Okaa-san!" Shuichi cried, burying her face into her chest and sobbing.
14 years later:
It was Christmas Eve and Kurama, a.k.a Shuichi smiled as he spotted the stuffed teddy bear tucked away into the corner of his closet. He had only given it up a few years ago, it having special meaning to him and all. He remembered how he had cried, and had let himself love his mother like a son should. Without knowing it, Kurama reached up and picked the bear off the shelf, hugging it close to his chest. After a few moments, however, the peace was broken by a scowling voice.
"Hn, stupid fox," Hiei said from the opposite corner of Kurama's room. "Emotionally attached to a ningen toy." Kurama merely shrugged and put the bear away.
"Why are you here, Hiei?" Kurama asked calmly, showing no outward sign of being caught doing something embarrassing. Hiei scowled, and then Kurama heard Yukina's clear laugh followed by Kuwabara's loud chuckling. Kurama grinned. "Oh."
"Baka ningen," Hiei muttered. "Baka ningen traditions." Kurama sighed and shook his head. "Don't tell me you actually like this Christmas thing."
"It's held a place in my heart," Kurama said off-handedly. Somehow the rest of the gang (the girls included) had tricked Kurama into hosting the Christmas party. So Yusuke, Kuwabara, Yukina, Keiko, Botan, Shizuru, Koenma, and Hiei had gathered. Atsuko was out for a drink, and Shiori had taken to hiding in the kitchen, saying she was "Providing snacks for the guests."
"Baka fox," Hiei muttered. Kurama grinned even wider as he heard his mother shout something about not getting apple cider spilled on the carpet.
"Shall we?" Kurama asked, opening the door. Hiei scowled again and followed Kurama out of the room. At the foot of the stairs Kurama ran into Shiori, who was carrying a tray of snacks.
"Take these to your guests, Shuichi," she said, thrusting the tray at him. Kurama almost fumbled the catch, but managed to straighten it at the last minute and not spill the food all over the floor. "Thanks," his mother added, rushing back into the kitchen. Kurama stared while Hiei shook his head.
"I think she's afraid of the baka and Yusuke," Hiei said. Kurama nodded somewhat dumbly and walked into the living room, where his friends were scattered about the couch and random chairs stolen from the kitchen table.
"Hey Ku-Shuichi," Yusuke hastily corrected himself at a glare from Kurama.
"Hello, Yusuke," Kurama replied. "Merry Christmas."
"You too," Yusuke said. Kurama walked about the room, wishing a Merry Christmas to his friends. Minutes later, Shiori burst into the room, waving a video in her hand, demanding that they watch the Christmas movie. As everyone found a seat in front of the television, Kurama smiled. This was bound to be another happy Christmas, just like it had been fourteen years ago.
Another few things before I humbly ask for a review and sign out.
Okay, okay, I know that at age two, Kurama would not be able to manipulate plants just yet, but that's why he was asleep for so long, he used up all his energy.
Please review! (and don't flame me or anything. Oh, god, why do I even bother asking? I know that I'm gonna get flames. *hides under computer desk*)
Merry Christmas once again!!
I know the Christmas traditions in Japan are a bit different than they are here, but I am sadly culture ignorant and don't know how the Japanese celebrate Christmas. So, for my purposes, the Christmas celebrated in this story will be as if it had been celebrated in the u.s.
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho.
Merry Christmas!! (or anything else that anyone might celebrate!)
-Nagem
Shiori knew something was wrong even before she reached the house. The cold, December air nipped at her cheeks and face as she hurried through the new fallen snow toward her home. The snow crunched under her feet as her steps quickened. (Please let nothing have happened while I was gone,) Shiori thought. She had just finished her Christmas shopping, the holiday being a mere two weeks away. Shiori shivered and pulled her coat tighter around her. She sighed in relief as she saw turned the corner and saw her home, appearing to be unscathed. (Just a silly little fear,) she told herself. As she walked up to the front door, a teenaged girl burst out, looking panicked and Shiori could see her eyes darting around frantically. As the girl's eyes lit upon her and footsteps came her way, Shiori noticed that the girl had many plant parts in her hair, mainly rose petals.
"What happened?" Shiori asked, approaching the girl. To her surprise the girl backed away and almost fell into the snow. Once she had recovered herself, she glared at Shiori.
"I am never baby-sitting that demon-child again!" Most mothers would have snapped, "He is not a demon-child!!" but Shiori was not sure anymore. Even at age two, her Shuichi was not like other toddlers at all. He kept to himself, even when the other little kids wanted to play with him. When he fell, he would not let Shiori see his wounds, and refused the hugs and kisses she offered him. When she tried to engage him in normal human activity, he would refuse and turn a deaf ear on her half-hearted scolding. That was why he had missed the first Christmas of his life.
"As you wish," Shiori said, digging her checkbook out of her purse. "How much do I owe you?" The girl tilted her head to one side, as if she were listening to an unheard sound.
"Bill me later," she said, running off. Shiori swallowed and entered her home. Everything appeared to be normal, save the fact a few plant pots were knocked over, and the fine potting soil was spilled on the rug. In the middle of it all was Shuichi, a rose in his hand, fast asleep on the couch. For a moment, Shiori felt a slight rush of rage at the babysitter.
"Shuichi couldn't have done anything, he's fast asleep!" Shiori whispered as she set her purchases down on the floor next to the couch and picked her son up. Shuichi made a face and fussed a little, but calmed down after a few moments. Shiori saw his hand tighten around the rose, as if he were going to lash out with it somehow, then relaxed, but didn't drop the rose. She sighed and carried him up to his room, setting him down in bed.
The next morning Shiori opened her eyes to see Shuichi's green ones. They blinked, and then he backed away from her as she sat up. Shiori took a moment, taking in her son's flaming, almost blood-red hair, cut short after a long fight between mother and son, and his green eyes that always seemed to look into her soul. She realized she had fallen asleep on the couch, wrapping Christmas presents. Shiori peeled some tape off of her arm, and then smiled at Shuichi.
"Hello, there," she said. Shuichi made a sound something like a 'hn', and replied.
"Okaa-san," he said. Most two-year-olds would address their mother with respect, love, and fear, but Shuichi spoke the name with scorn, almost as if Shiori were the inferior one. He looked around at the messy room. "What were you doing?" For one so young, he spoke with amazing clarity, and anyone could tell that each word was thought out carefully.
"Wrapping Christmas gifts," she said, getting up and walking to the kitchen. She heard Shuichi follow her. That was the one normal thing about him; he still had trouble with motor skills, as most children did when not used to their bodies.
"Why?" Shiori sighed. They had gone through this the year before as well.
"Because, we give gifts on Christmas," Shiori said. "It's traditional." Shuichi tilted his head to one side. "I've explained all of this to you before . . . then again, maybe you don't remember." (He was only one year old, after all,) Shiori said to herself.
"Yeah, I remember now," Shuichi said. He walked over to a corner and set up a plant that Shiori had forgotten about the night before. He ran his fingers gently along the leaves, and briefly, so briefly that Shiori was sure she had imagined it, a smile crossed his face. That was why Shiori had so many plants in the first place; they were the only things that seemed to get through to him. "Is that when we get the big evergreen tree?"
"Yes," Shiori responded. "You like the tree then?"
"Yeah," Shuichi said. Shiori watched as he walked around the room, picking up the plants that she had neglected to look after the night before. He brushed the potting soil off of his hands as best he could.
"Are you going to participate this year?" Shiori asked. At first, she scolded herself for sounding so rude, but quickly quieted the voice in her mind. (Might as well fight fire with fire,) she thought. Translation; counter Shuichi's rudeness with her own.
"I don't know," Shuichi said. Fleeting visions of the Christmas tree flitted across his mind for a few moments. He heard Shiori sigh.
"Will you at least cooperate?" she asked, hoping for a positive answer. Shuichi thought about it for a moment, and the nodded. Shiori thanked any higher power that might have been watching over her at that moment. With only two weeks left and her husband away on a business trip, Shiori was not sure she could get Christmas set up with a two-year-old like Shuichi being uncooperative. "Thank you," she told her son, but she knew better than to try and hug him, and it broke her heart. Shuichi nodded and left the room. A moment later Shiori heard him clamoring up the stairs.
"Shuichi!! Do you want to come down and help hang the lights on the tree?" Shiori paused for a moment, then smiled to herself as she heard her son come down the stairs. When he stood in front of her, unsure what to do, she handed him a string of lights. "Here, you wrap them around the tree," she said, demonstrating what she wanted her son to do. "All right, you give it a try." Shiori watched for about ten minutes, and then, deciding that her son wasn't having any problems, walked into the kitchen to check on the cookies she had been baking. It was only going to take her a minute, after all.
"Okaa-san! Okaa-san!!" Shuichi yelped a few moments later. "Help!!" Shiori dashed into the room to see her son tangled up in the lights, trying to fight them. He yelped as the lights began to constrict around his throat, and his eyes went wide with fear.
"Shuichi!" Shiori yelled, trying to make herself heard over the noise the incident had brought. "Stay calm! Don't fight it!" As her son tried to take deep, calming breaths, Shiori dove in, and began untangling the lights.
"Okaa-san," Shuichi choked out a minute later. "I . . . can't . . . breathe." Shiori glanced up at him. His face was bright red, and Shiori could see spots of blue on his cheeks.
"Shuichi, hang on," she whispered. With a last tug of the cord, the lights came free, and she heard Shuichi gasp for breath. "Are you all right?" she asked as he wheezed.
"Yeah," he replied a moment later. "Thanks." He gave her a quick hug, leaving Shiori stunned and dazed for a few moments, before walking back up to his room.
"That was odd," Shiori said to herself, her mind still trying to grip the fact that Shuichi had shown her a sign of affection. (Don't get used to it,) said a small voice in her mind. Still, a small smile played across her face as she hung up the rest of the Christmas decorations.
"It's Christmas Eve, aren't you even the least bit excited?" Shiori watched Shuichi, who was dressed in his bright-red pajamas with little reindeer, snowmen, and Santas printed on them. He was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the television, which was flashing a random Christmas program. He had yet to show any of the excitement that ran throughout the other children his age. Shiori sighed, (It's not like there's anything different there,) she thought. Although he had been slightly more polite (affectionate was not the right word, for he still dodged her hugs and spoke to her with a hint of scorn) since the incident with the Christmas lights. "Shuichi? Are you excited at all?"
"Wha-?" Shuichi said, having been totally distracted by the television at that moment. "Excited?" he asked, turning his head toward Shiori, who nodded. Then he shrugged. "Not really."
"Why not?" Shiori asked.
"Oh, I guess there's not a whole lot for me to expect from Christmas," he said. "I see all these programs about children getting presents from Santa Claus, but I guess that's not really for me. I haven't been good enough." Shuichi trailed off, his attitude conflicting between adult-like wisdom and childish longings. Shiori suddenly felt sorry for him.
"You're better behaved than most two-year-olds are," Shiori offered. Shuichi looked as though he would have liked to argue that statement, but dropped it.
"Yeah," he mumbled. He glanced over at the presents beneath the tree, and frowned. "Okaa-san, in all the Christmas programs I see, there are many presents under the tree, but ours doesn't seem to have any at all." Shiori sighed, and put down the book she was reading.
"I know, Shuichi," she said. "It's partially because we have such a small family, and partially because Tou-san isn't here." Shuichi nodded thoughtfully. "Most of the presents are for family that will be here in a couple of days."
"We're spending Christmas alone again?" Shuichi asked. Shiori nodded, then she looked up at the clock. Shuichi turned back to the television.
"Shuichi, time for bed," she said. He let out a heavy sigh, and made his way up the stairs. Shiori sighed. "He's so different." She turned off the television, and followed her son up the stairs. When she got to his room, the lights were out and he was on his side in bed, curled up into a little ball. "Shuichi?" He looked up at her. "Do you want me to read you a Christmas story?" She held up the picture book copy of one of the Christmas stories.
"Sure," he said, sitting up. Shiori turned the lights on and sat down next to him. When she opened up the book, Shuichi smiled at the first picture. This gave Shiori a boost of confidence, and she began to read in a loud, clear voice.
"'All the whos down in Whoville liked Christmas alot. . . . "
The next morning, Shuichi was up bright and early with Shiori, and they went down to open the Christmas gifts. As Shuichi had expected, there were no new gifts under the tree. Shiori opened a few of the ones that her husband had sent her, and smiling, tucked them away. After all of her presents were gone, Shuichi got up and began to walk toward the stairs, fully intending to spend the day with the rosebush in his room.
"Shuichi," Shiori called before he reached the stairs.
"Nani?" the two-year-old asked, turning around. Shiori held up a brightly colored bag that was full to bursting with something.
"This is for you," she said. She had to hold back laughter at the look of pure shock on her son's face. He walked over without saying a word, and took the bag from her. He stared at it. "Open it," Shiori prompted. Shuichi complied, pulling tissue paper out of the bag, revealing a stuffed teddy bear. He pulled it out and looked at her, eyes bright.
"You . . . got this for me?" he asked. "You didn't leave me out of Christmas because I've been bad?" Shiori then realized that he had missed his first Christmas because he thought that he had been bad. She felt bad for Shuichi, and reached out to him, pulling him into her arms. Surprisingly, he didn't pull away.
"Oh, Shuichi," she said. "I don't care if you've been bad. I love you, and I wanted to show that I care about you."
"Okaa-san!" Shuichi cried, burying her face into her chest and sobbing.
14 years later:
It was Christmas Eve and Kurama, a.k.a Shuichi smiled as he spotted the stuffed teddy bear tucked away into the corner of his closet. He had only given it up a few years ago, it having special meaning to him and all. He remembered how he had cried, and had let himself love his mother like a son should. Without knowing it, Kurama reached up and picked the bear off the shelf, hugging it close to his chest. After a few moments, however, the peace was broken by a scowling voice.
"Hn, stupid fox," Hiei said from the opposite corner of Kurama's room. "Emotionally attached to a ningen toy." Kurama merely shrugged and put the bear away.
"Why are you here, Hiei?" Kurama asked calmly, showing no outward sign of being caught doing something embarrassing. Hiei scowled, and then Kurama heard Yukina's clear laugh followed by Kuwabara's loud chuckling. Kurama grinned. "Oh."
"Baka ningen," Hiei muttered. "Baka ningen traditions." Kurama sighed and shook his head. "Don't tell me you actually like this Christmas thing."
"It's held a place in my heart," Kurama said off-handedly. Somehow the rest of the gang (the girls included) had tricked Kurama into hosting the Christmas party. So Yusuke, Kuwabara, Yukina, Keiko, Botan, Shizuru, Koenma, and Hiei had gathered. Atsuko was out for a drink, and Shiori had taken to hiding in the kitchen, saying she was "Providing snacks for the guests."
"Baka fox," Hiei muttered. Kurama grinned even wider as he heard his mother shout something about not getting apple cider spilled on the carpet.
"Shall we?" Kurama asked, opening the door. Hiei scowled again and followed Kurama out of the room. At the foot of the stairs Kurama ran into Shiori, who was carrying a tray of snacks.
"Take these to your guests, Shuichi," she said, thrusting the tray at him. Kurama almost fumbled the catch, but managed to straighten it at the last minute and not spill the food all over the floor. "Thanks," his mother added, rushing back into the kitchen. Kurama stared while Hiei shook his head.
"I think she's afraid of the baka and Yusuke," Hiei said. Kurama nodded somewhat dumbly and walked into the living room, where his friends were scattered about the couch and random chairs stolen from the kitchen table.
"Hey Ku-Shuichi," Yusuke hastily corrected himself at a glare from Kurama.
"Hello, Yusuke," Kurama replied. "Merry Christmas."
"You too," Yusuke said. Kurama walked about the room, wishing a Merry Christmas to his friends. Minutes later, Shiori burst into the room, waving a video in her hand, demanding that they watch the Christmas movie. As everyone found a seat in front of the television, Kurama smiled. This was bound to be another happy Christmas, just like it had been fourteen years ago.
Another few things before I humbly ask for a review and sign out.
Okay, okay, I know that at age two, Kurama would not be able to manipulate plants just yet, but that's why he was asleep for so long, he used up all his energy.
Please review! (and don't flame me or anything. Oh, god, why do I even bother asking? I know that I'm gonna get flames. *hides under computer desk*)
Merry Christmas once again!!