One thing Ultear had noticed about Grimoire Heart's newest additions was the each of them seemed to have a role.
Erza was the bossy one, Millianna was the peppy one, Sorano was the aloof one, Sawyer was the snide one, Richard was the optimistic one, Wally was the weird one (although, if you asked him, he'd say he was the "dandy" one), Erik was the troublemaker, Simon was the sane one, Macbeth was the sleepy one, Cubellios was the reptilian one, Jellal was socially clueless one, and Shô was the baby.
Shô's innocence was, as far as Ultear was concerned, rather adorable, especially considering that he'd spent several months as a slave (at least, she assumed that's how long he'd been there - she'd never asked).
One morning, however, he walked into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and dragging a semi-unconscious (or possibly entirely unconscious) Macbeth behind him, and greeted Brain and Hades, who were quietly arguing over whether or not Ultear was to be punished for cause Zancrow to set his bed on fire (he'd had it coming, really), as 'mom' and 'dad'.
It took everyone a moment to realize what he'd said. Shô blinked, and then a look of shock, misery, embarrassment flushed over his face.
"Sorry!" he yelped, cowering back. He was shaking, looking terrified. Ultear watched, fascinated, as Jellal stepped in front of the younger boy, eyes narrowed. Hades stood to his full height.
"Shô," he said, his authoritative voice echoing around the kitchen. "Look at me." Shô looked up. Hades glowered down at him. "Do you realize–"
"Why am I the mother?" Brain broke in. Shô looked at him.
"W-what?"
"What am I the mother?" Brain repeated. "I'm quite obviously not a woman. I should be more of a father to you - Hades is too old for the job. The closest person to a mother figure you have, young man, is the one currently acting as protective barrier." Jellal turned bright red, and he threw a piece of toast at Brain before sitting back down in his chair and sulking. Macbeth quickly tugged his hand away from Shô and scrambled into Jellal's lap.
"Hold me," he demanded. Jellal sighed.
"Do I have a choice?" he wondered. Macbeth shook his head, clutching his teddy bear (which had been a gift from Ultear, who hadn't wanted it, to Erza, who didn't know what to do with it, to Jellal, who didn't even know what it was, to Macbeth, who loved it more than life itself).
"No." The soon-to-be-eleven-year-old said, curling up and falling asleep. Erik grinned at Jellal.
"You never let us sit in your lap," he teased. Jellal rolled his eyes, cheeks still very red.
"You, Erik," he said haughtily, "are almost thirteen. Plus, you're too big to sit in my lap." Simon snickered.
"Yeah, but you could sit in his," the one-eyed boy pointed out. Jellal threw a piece of toast at him too.
"Dammit, Brain," Hades snapped. "I had this covered." Brain sipped his tea.
"Don't make the children think poorly of Grandpa Hades," he said lightly. Hades took a leaf from Jellal's book and threw a piece of toast at him.