Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or it's hotly draw characters! Tchau!
The Bluebell on the Ground
Sweat furrowed my brow as I carried the water jugs to the cart.
"Just a few more of these and the deliveries, then I can get back to my studies…" A bottle lightly tapped my head.
"You're bein' too slow…" a bored voice complained. "Do you want yur poor okāsan to drop o'er dead from the heat? Work faster!" I sighed wishing she was at capable of helping, but my mother preferred to do this than actually taking time to commit or dedicate herself to something that required labor.
"Yes hahaoya," I remained respectful to her, even though the best she could muster up for her only child was a sake flavored sigh. I winced in disgust as I loaded the last few jugs of water.
My mother was an eyesore for me to gaze upon, but a 'sight for sore eyes' for many other fellows. Long atramentous, sable, hair—ceaselessly falling upon a hot coco complexion with gleaming viloaceous eyes that could possibly—and very well might have—'sunk ships'. An eye patch covered her left eye's optics, it was said to pertain to her past as a corsair and what made her stop, but I think she just got careless one day.
She bandaged one arm that was badly burned and concealed from the world. In the same hand she wielded a (presumably empty) sake bottle, her trademark weapon that she would not hesitate to throw at her son.
The only thing she kept—maybe as a civil courtesy, was her seven inch 'Denicotea' "Cavalier Star" cigarette holder, with a cigarette of course. It almost always hung— limp in her mouth or if not, it was between her fingers.
"Hahaoya I'm done!" I said sweetly. She nodded and patted me on the head to commend my good effort. Then she did something I didn't expect, she gave me a hug.
Mother had a figure—succubus in origin, that always wore outlandish clothing. Black metal mesh in the form of a tight long sleeve shirt rubbed against me. The only thing keeping me from touching with her ample bosom was a long and dark blood red, microseude coat with Persian linings. Perhaps this jacket may have been worth something or had been owned by a luxurious person when it was stolen, but now it was just part of a holey and weird fashion escapade. The only thing(s) covering her privies were a criss-crossing belt and skimpy black underwear. Lastly a Bunraku puppeteer's black cat-like hat completes the ensemble.
As you can see—or you will see when I point it out— my mother's ensemble could be analogous with whorish…
"Good job Naraku-chan!" I blushed furiously, looking down at her black geta sandals. This impossible woman had just complimented me…and no matter how ridiculous I thought she looked when my mother complimented me— when any child's mother complimented them, it always felt like you had done the most grandiose thing in the world, when in fact you might have done nothing; and when this compliment was coming from the woman who could do no more than scowl, or smirk, or pity, or laugh, or all of the above, at my attempts to please her, it was as big as winning the lottery.
Hell, maybe even bigger…
"Asagāo-sama! We need you down by the dam!"
"OK I'll be there!" she turned to me, "Take these n distribute it 'round town. Norm'lly I'll come with, but…" she gave me a stern look and I nodded.
"I won't let you down Ma!" Mother giggled and patted my head again and gave me a quick peck on the cheek, making me blush again.
"It's a crime to have such a cute child." She smiled and skipped off.
"Bye-bye mama! Be safe!" I looked after her—singing and throwing the arm containing the empty bottle in any which way—worried and hoping she had heard me for once…
Author's Note: Bear with me if the characters are OOC! Oh and Naraku is nine while his mother is twenty-five. I will not be updating until I get reviews. How ever long that takes is for anyone reading this to decide :( sorry.
Glossary
Okāsan—means mother.
Hahaoya—also means mother, but a more formal form.