A/N : I was going to abandon this series when I found out the discrepancy between my summary and the actual story presented in the previous chapters. So here are a couple other of my oneshots originally posted on AO3 that are wayyyy more realistic
"Whazza birthhmarw"
The question wasn't directed to anyone in particular. Sort of like one of Alas Ramus' random blurts.
"Birthhhhmarwww" she said again. Trying her best to roll her tongue as grown-ups would do. But what came out was just a storm of spit.
"Bird….what?" Maou asked, puzzlement showing in his voice.
"Biirrthhhhhhmaarrwww" Alas Ramus repeated. The look of curiosity that she held before is now gone. Replaced by a look of annoyance with squinted eyes. Mama and Papa always have an answer. From the big cube she saw from the window of a train to a crawling black spot that was stealing a piece of her bread. They know everything. Maybe.
"Come on Emi, help me out here," Pleaded Maou.
She sighs and took the last sip of the store-bought lemonade in this midsummer heat. Her forehead crinkles as she thinks of a way to answer. Truthfully, she had been listening all this time, waiting for the perfect time to chirp in and say "Hah! I knew it" right in Maou's face.
But that moment never came, and the warm breeze was the only sound present throughout the room. Silence, deep calming but frustrating at the same time. It's not usual for Alas Ramus to remain silent for this long. Maybe she's thinking deeply herself. Of how to properly say this 'birthhmarw' so that Mama and Papa would understand. Maybe.
"Where'd you heard about this bird thing?" asks Maou.
Alas Ramus bobbed her head, finally, Papa knows something. "Yesterday Ms Yui say zat people are born wif birthhmarws. She show us a biggg red circwe on her back." She explained while trying to the pointed spot.
"Birthmarks?" Emi chirps, shrugging.
"Yeah!" replied Alas Ramus with a big smile.
Emi nodded, noting the change of energy from Alas. "Ms Yui's right. It's like a mark that we're born with. Look, I have one right here."
Lifting her sleeve a little, Emi pointed to the blue hexagon printed on her skin. Alas Ramus jumped off of her oversized chair onto the lap of her mother. Her pupils grew wide as she glazes her palm against the seemingly out-of-place shape. It was much smaller than Ms Yui's, but a lot brighter. Maybe it can grow in the dark?
"Waahh so cool!" she exclaimed. Before turning her body 360' towards her father. Maou looks at her in dismay. He knew exactly what's gonna come out of her mouth next.
"Papa where's yours?"
His eyes went sideways. Diverting his attention to the bug on the wall. Sweat drips down his face, whether it was the heat or something else. "Ahh…About that, I don't have one." He says with an uncomfortable smile.
"Whaaatttt?" were both said simultaneously. One from Alas a signature air of disappointment. The other, was Emi's air of suspicion.
She raises her brow, "You know that habitants of Ente Isla also possess a birthmark right?"
Maou looks down, knees together, eyebrow knitted. "Yeah but…
Like a clap of thunder, sudden and surprising, an idea popped in Emi's head. She snaps her finger and – with a huge grin says,
"Ah! I know! It's on your ass, right?"
Maou was red, from top to bottom. His hands sat on his knees, his lips pursed. "W-What, of course not! I told you I don't have one."
"Bullllshitt," shouted Emi. She sticks her tongue out and began to laugh maniacally.
While Alas….Alas Ramus is trying her best to interpret the situation. Mama is laughing and Papa is blushing, but she doesn't know why.
"What is it, Mama? I want to see it too!" she asked curiously.
"Nope. You don't want to see it."
"Oh." She replied, looking dejected.
A period of silence prevailed once again. Maou has finally regained his composure, Emi is budding her nose against Alas Ramus' and the wind, the calm wind of sparking red had merged with the frying heat of the sun. They turned rugged, and before long, their decision to open the windows had looked like a disaster.
Maou was rigorously fanning himself when Alas Ramus, once again with shallow eyes and a flat tone, says,
"Where's my birthmark?"
This time, both Mama and Papa don't have an answer. This question, directed at nobody in particular, sparks latent discomfort between the two parents. Now that they think of it, none of them have ever seen Alas Ramus' birthmark. Not when showering or changing diapers. Not when combing her hair or when stroking her hands. Maybe they just weren't looking hard enough.
No.
Sephirah doesn't have birthmarks, right? After all, they're just an apple. No matter how much power they hold or how much more they could exert. They are, before all, a fruit. An apple-like fruit dangling from a tree. They are incubating until they are ripe, and until the Mistress of Fate, through a roll of a dice or decree of a mouth, decides that the ripe apple, is to be given to a certain person. Through a royal ritual. Or maybe, a makeshift bonfire.
With a boyish smile Maou rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, we're not sure either Alas Ramus. Do you wanna find out?" he asks.
Alas Ramus sat nestling on the couch. Her eyes were still grey and empty. And at least, she speaks, "How? I look for it ebery time I shower."
"Maybe it's on your back. Like Ms. Yui's." Emi proposed, trying to cheer up the situation.
The Sephirah just shook her head, "No. Yesterday Mommy say zat my back iz so clear."
It's seemingly impossible, they can't just create a birthmark out of nowhere. Maybe they can pinch her until it leaves a mark, but that's just bad parenting, and whichever of the two proposes it will probably receive a punch to the face, to say the least.
And so, at a seeming crossroad, Maou once again had an idea.
He picked Alas Ramus up from the couch onto his lap. She was like a doll, without energy and life. Maou then looks her in the eye. His eye spirited and full of hope – and with the zig-zag grin he says,
"You sure you've looked for it everywhere?"
Alas Ramus silently nods.
"Well, I think you've forgotten to look in 1 place. And just maybe, you can find your birthmark there.
Slowly, the cloudy greyness of her eyes turns purple. Though it was still a very dark shade of purple, it seemed like a little dot of sunshine had managed to pass through all the fog.
"Where? Where?"
"Alright, sit tight for me, okay? Just for a bit."
"EMI, WHERE DO YOU PUT YOUR CHOPSTICKS AT?"
The contemptuous bark of the dog, or so Emi called, was Maou. He's been scrambling around the house, pulling and opening things that mind you, isn't his. So much for acting cool, she thought.
"It's in the second drawer of the third shelf from the right." She answers, still trying to improve Alas Ramus' mood by giving her head pats.
But what she saw, from her always energetic little daughter, was a child, tired and discontent, with less energy than the usual Alas Ramus in her sleep. She had asked Emi earlier, half mumbling, "Mama, am I not normal?" And since then, she just kept repeating the same words over and over again. Frozen in a fixed posture.
"I'm back! Look what I brought!"
"Plate and chopsticks? What? Are you going to a buffet or something?"
"I'm holding the urge to smack your head right now, just give her to me."
"Umm, Hello? I'm not gonna let your demon ass toy around with her, so I'd rather keep her here please."
Maou rolled his eyes, "Ughh…Fine…Just make sure she'll able to see what I'm gonna do."
Placing the plate on a kitchen counter, Maou also spreads the chopsticks on top. He also pulled out a sheet of crumpled-up newspaper from his pocket. Before finally, with the help of a lighter, starts spreading the flares to the array of wooden chopsticks.
Well, it's not the exact same, but it'll suffice, shrugged Maou.
Smelling the smoke, Alas Ramus woke up from her slumber. Emi instinctively moves her closer to the tiny monument. Her hands twitch, her eyes expand as if she was being called closer.
Noticing the progress, Maou smiled.
"You know what Alas Ramus? This here, through magic or stupid luck, was the fire that called you into this world. In the depth of summer, just like this one. It was hot and we decided to do it for fun. Turns out, there were no spirits of the ancestors. Instead, there was you. A giant apple with legs. Which was cut in half by The Better Half. Before finally, becoming you.
The shade of purple in her eyes turned lighter again. Grape-like this time. Just a little bit more before turning into the bright lilac of her personality. And Alas Ramus, upon seeing the fire, upon feeling Mama's tight hug, upon hearing Papa's words, came into a realization on her own. That-
"That if birthmarks are supposed to be a symbol of your life. A symbol to carry until the olden days. Then may this fire, this burning bundle of warmth, be your birthmark."
The grey smoke escapes from the open window. In comes the red light of sunshine. Bright and warm.