Author's note: Special thanks to NumberA for beta-reading this.
Disclaimer: I do not own Claymore or any characters therein.
They had been traveling together for a few days now, and Miata was nursing again. Clarice was uncomfortable, both because Miata had just bitten her nipple and because this was a humiliating task for a warrior. Clarice sighed. She was an embarrassment of a warrior, so maybe she was better off being a nursemaid.
Besides, it's not like Miata gave her much of a choice. Within minutes of meeting the Organization's Number Four, Clarice was pinned to the ground with a sword at her throat as a mentally unstable child forcibly suckled her breast and called her "mama". Clarice had been too scared to resist. That was the last thing that she had expected, but it wasn't the worst thing that could've happened. The last single-digit Clarice met had refused to talk to her once she'd seen her brown hair.
The Organization was impressed that Clarice had "tamed" Miata so quickly, and now that the girl was stable, they had sent the two of them to assassinate the former Number Three, God-Eye Galatea.
The whole situation was beyond strange.
And Miata was scary. When Clarice was her age, she could hardly lift a practice claymore, but Miata could swing a real one with deadly accuracy. Yesterday, a pack of no less than a dozen Yoma had attacked them. Since they were both taking aura suppressants, Clarice had no idea that they were even nearby. Miata's sixth sense was finely honed, and she shoved Clarice out of the way just in time to jump up and cut the winged Yoma swooping down on them in half. Then she'd taken out the rest of the pack, destroying some of them with her bare hands. Finally, covered in blood, Miata trotted up to Clarice and begged for a hug. Clarice was trembling with fear, but embraced the feral creature disguised as a little girl.
The child suckling at her breast was a monster.
The following morning, Clarice woke up early and was checking their supplies when she noticed that they were almost out of water. She left Miata sleeping at their camp and walked a little ways upstream to where the water was cleaner, and started filling their canteens.
Suddenly, she heard a blood-curdling scream. She drew her claymore and dashed back to camp, ready to fight.
"Miata! Where are they?"
Before she could even stop and look around, she was knocked to the ground and disarmed. A frantic Miata had her pinned down.
"Mama, why did you run away? I'll be good! Eat yucky medicine, take baths! Just don't leave me!" She was sobbing.
Clarice had had the wind knocked out of her, but recovered after a coughing fit. "I was just getting us some water. I'm not going to leave you, Miata."
"Really really?"
"I promise."
Clarice had seen a glimpse of this fear when she'd scolded Miata for not wanting to take her medicine, but this time the girl had been absolutely terrified. Terrified that Mama would abandon her.
The Organization might have given her a sword and a number, they might have planted Yoma flesh inside of her and turned her into a monster, but Miata was still a child. And the monster child called Clarice "Mama".
Clarice knew that Miata was delusional: her real mother had died long ago. She let the girl play pretend, because having a mother was vital to maintaining her sanity. Clarice was playing pretend too, because she didn't know how to be a mother. She did know what it was like to lose one.
Hers had died of an illness when she was five. The day that Mommy wouldn't wake up was the worst day of her life. She was all that Clarice had, and after a few years of being shuffled from family to family, Clarice was living on the streets by herself. By now, Clarice had forgotten what her mother's face looked like, but she remembered that no matter what was wrong, she felt safe in Mommy's arms.
That's why when they first met and Miata had pushed her down and started crying for her mama, Clarice put her arms around her. She understood that feeling too well.
Miata needed someone that she could trust, someone to hug her and tell her that everything would be all right. Clarice swallowed her fear and decided that she would be that person.
Even if she couldn't claim the title, Clarice was starting to feel like a mother. Taking care of Miata was a lot of work. Bathing her (Miata hated being wet), combing her too-long hair when it got tangled (Miata was too afraid to let anyone cut it), getting her to take her medicine (Clarice started putting the pills in food), making sure that she was dressed properly (Miata said clothes were itchy and took them off whenever possible)... there was no end to it. Plus, Miata was still growing, and needed twice as much food and sleep as an adult warrior. Since they were on aura suppressants, Clarice often stayed up all night and kept watch. She still got plenty of sleep, because after Miata ripped the heads off of a few Yoma, others could smell the corpses and gave the warriors a wide berth. Miata always wanted to sleep next to Mama, and even if Clarice got her to go to sleep in her own bedroll, she woke up to the girl snuggling with her. At least she didn't get cold anymore.
Miata was very clingy. Holding her hand, hugging her waist, climbing on her lap... Clarice never had a minute to herself. It's like Miata was afraid that if she let go of Mama, then she would just disappear.
Miata could be difficult and the constant physical contact got annoying, but Clarice was really warming up to her. She hadn't realized how lonely she'd been until Miata came along.
Miata nursed several times a day, and Clarice tolerated it—as long as she didn't bite. Miata was too old to be doing this, but Clarice had the feeling that the girl needed to. Something about it really got through to Miata, and calmed her down.
Clarice was weak, but the monster child protected her from the other monsters.
Whenever Miata fought, Clarice was reminded of just how delicate her position was. Miata was strong enough to be Number One, which meant that if she awakened, she could become an Abyssal One. If Clarice got killed, the entire continent was in danger.
However, if anything attacked Mama, Miata killed it and stomped its body into a bloody pulp on the ground. Seeing her brutality always made Clarice's blood run cold, but it showed how protective Miata had become of her. It was oddly reassuring.
And when Mama got hurt, Miata always worried. One time, Clarice had been reattaching a hand and Miata sat next to her the entire time asking if it was working. Her constant questions made it harder to concentrate on healing, but Clarice appreciated the concern.
Gradually, the monster child opened her heart to Clarice.
Miata loved bugs and hated thunderstorms. She liked beef jerky more than bread. She even wanted to play with Mama. They didn't have much time to play—and Clarice didn't know how—so she taught Miata a counting rhyme, and the girl counted her steps in sets of eight... for ten miles. Clarice tried teaching her other rhymes, but Miata always went back to that one.
Miata smiled more often now, and even laughed.
The first time Clarice had heard Miata laugh was when she was trying to teach her how to skip stones in a pond. Miata didn't really understand the skipping part, but she liked throwing rocks into the water as hard as she could to see the splash. One rock struck a passing fish, killing it instantly. As it went belly-up, Miata giggled quietly. Clarice was so surprised that she started laughing. They ate the fish for dinner.
Miata was more relaxed around Clarice in general. She wasn't as clingy, because now she knew that Mama wasn't going to leave her. And she knew that even when she scolded her for being naughty, Mama didn't hate her. An unfortunate side effect of this trust was that she felt comfortable enough to test the limit of Clarice's patience, and sometimes it ran out. When it did, one or both of them ended up crying.
Once Clarice made "no nursing or sleeping in Mama's bed unless Miata took medicine and baths" into an ironclad rule, Miata didn't give her as much trouble.
The monster child operated almost completely on instinct. Her lack of rational thought made her unpredictable, and combined with her strength, she was dangerous. Miata didn't think, she just acted. She had no sense of shame, and did not hesitate to ask for—or help herself to—whatever she wanted. She also didn't lie.
Miata loved Mama, even if she didn't realize that Clarice wasn't her birth mother. A wild beast lurked within her, but her love for Mama kept it at bay.
Clarice had seen the wild beast and knew that it was always nearby, but her trust in Miata now outweighed her fear.
Miata's nursing didn't bother Clarice anymore, and seeing the little girl relaxed and content was worth the occasional bite. This ritual was how their bond had grown so strong. Miata instinctively sought out a mother in the most primal way possible, and Clarice responded. She accepted Miata as she was, and became the mother that she needed. Someone who made her feel safe and wanted. A point of reference in this chaotic world.
Miata gave Clarice something in return: a sense of purpose. Someone needed her. No, not just needed her, someone wanted her.
Being "Mama" didn't feel like pretend anymore.
"Mama... Run away... Don't die, Mama."
The monster child was pinned down on the roof of a building in Rabona in the pouring rain. She'd abandoned her mission of eliminating Galatea when the Awakened Being there attacked Clarice. Miata had failed to subdue the giant Awakened Being, and had taken heavy damage. She knew that she wouldn't last much longer, so she threw her sword at the monster to buy time for Clarice to escape.
Mama...
She could have begged Mama not to abandon her, but instead Miata told her to run for her life. And Clarice did. She would be ashamed of that until the day she died.
Mama...
Before she realized what she was doing, Clarice was going straight for the monster's head. She missed, of course, but she made it over to Miata and cut her free of the tentacles pinning her to the roof.
Mama...
She didn't want to die. She couldn't escape. She couldn't save Miata. Why was she on a rooftop, cradling an injured child while they both cried their hearts out?
Mama!
Clarice knew why.
The monster child needed Mama's attention right now.
They were sitting on a bench in the meeting hall, watching the warrior named Miria and the city officials negotiate the terms of their stay in Rabona. Miata decided that it was the perfect time to start groping Clarice's breasts.
A mortified Clarice fended her off. "Not now, Miata," she whispered.
Miata continued pawing at her chest, and started whining. "Mama... I want..."
She was starting to draw attention from some of the nearby guards, and the sensing-type warrior with the braided hair glanced over and raised an eyebrow.
Clarice sighed. It had been a long, extremely stressful day for both of them, and Miata really needed this. Clarice didn't know what to do, but she had to do something before Miata caused a scene. She was about to ask a guard if there was a private room that they could borrow for an hour when Galatea approached them.
"Dark-hair."
"It's, uh, Clarice."
"Clarice. I'm sure that you and the little one are tired. You can rest in my room until we find you one of your own."
Half an hour later, Clarice was startled by a knock on the door. Miata was still nursing; the session had gone on much longer than normal, but considering the day they'd had, it wasn't surprising.
"It's Galatea. I just wanted to check on you two."
"Ah... we're fine," Clarice called out, fervently hoping that Galatea wouldn't come in.
"I'm coming in," Galatea said as she entered. If she weren't blind, she would have seen Clarice sitting on the bed with Miata practically lying on top of her.
Clarice's face turned red. She closed her eyes, and whispered, "Please don't look."
"I can't."
"Oh... right." Then Clarice realized that because of Galatea's unmatched ability to sense yoki, she knew exactly what was going on.
She was trying to come up with a way to explain the situation, because Miata wasn't a baby and she wasn't producing milk and it was really weird because they were warriors who had been fighting a giant Awakened Being earlier and now...
Galatea's voice interrupted Clarice's internal panicking. "The little one really loves you."
Clarice glanced over at the sightless eyes watching them.
"I work with the orphans, and I know that it's hard enough for a child to lose her family without going through what we went through." Galatea smiled sadly. "I'm glad that Miata still has her mother with her."
Clarice looked down at Miata, who had finally fallen asleep. She gently removed her mouth from her breast and laid her down beside her. She was still afraid of her, but she loved her more.
Her daughter.