Disclaimer: Lolnope.

Author's Note: Inspired by a post I saw on the Kuroheadcanons tumblr page. I could have gone a bunch of different directions with it, but… Well, I guess this is the one I chose. 8D; Short, sweet, and stupid, I know; I just wanted to do something for Mother's Day. ^^;

Warnings: Part of the "Bicentennial" series. Takes place a few years after "666." …rather obviously. XD; OCs and stuff (thank you, Maddie, for their shells, lawlz). Allusions to commercials. Fluff? Crap editing, because I decided I wanted to write this at 4 and get it posted before midnight, lawlz.

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Jewelry

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"And just what is this?"

After being so addressed, the little girl immediately began nibbling on the tip of her pudgy pointer finger. A nervous habit for most children, perhaps, but her parents had since realized she was not like most children; instead, she mused as she chewed, and chewed as she mused. For a time—as she considered her response—, her steady gaze remained locked on the swatch of floor between her spread legs, and the tiny treasures spread out upon her romper-clad thighs. The cogs in her mind turned, formulating a reply… And soon, her head was twisting, the curls of her dark pigtails dancing as she tilted her bitty chin, cinnamon eyes bright with intelligence. Bright, but already guarded in defense. Her forehead puckered, and she removed her hand from her mouth with a soft pop. "It's a brace-lit," she informed in her usual, quiet lisp, the steady words steeped in three years of collected knowledge. "It's for your arm."

Crouched before his literalist of a daughter, aforementioned bracelet dangling from the perch of his slender finger, Sebastian opened his mouth to berate her… But then shook his head, deciding against it. She may have known what he'd meant and denied him a proper response, but she did answer the question—and truthfully, at that. Evasive behavior was to be expected from three year olds; there was no need to blow this out of proportion. Rolling his eyes and gathering his patience, then, the devil tried again, flicking his wrist so that the offending piece of jewelry bounced. Its mismatched beads clattered against one another as the faceted plastic gems caught the light that streamed into the living room.

"Asmus," Sebastian gently warned, furrowing his brow as his stern stare narrowed a fraction. "Where did you find this bracelet? I know it isn't yours… I do not recall your mother or I ever purchasing you anything like it. And your aunts and uncles have not given you any presents, lately, eith—"

"It wasn't a present," Asmus cut off coolly. Her father stilled at the interruption. Good. Progress.

"… I beg your pardon?" If it wasn't a present, then…?

"It wasn't a present. It is a present," the little one more fully explained, tinkering with the miscellaneous bits, pieces, and knickknacks that rested in her lap. Shiny clusters of junk, really: discarded necklace chains, hunks of fool's gold, gum wrappers that her brother had folded into cranes. Things collected and things forged; the habits of little crows. "Dat's why I gave it to you."

"…it's for me?" The elder demon's glower softened a bit around the edges, though the adhesive known as confusion kept it firmly affixed to his face. "What for? Where did you get it?" He scrutinized the bracelet again—cheap gold and glass rubies, strung together on an elastic thread. Certainly a piece unlike anything else in his possession, or anything else he had ever expressed an interest in. (Usually, a prerequisite for anything he considered owning was that it had to conform to some basic guidelines of good taste. For starters, it couldn't look like it'd come from the bargain bins of Goodwill.) Blinking rapidly, he returned his attention to his eldest, still vaguely bemused. "…why?"

Asmus shrugged her thin shoulders, hunkering over a broken bicycle bell. It made a faint ping of sound whenever she flicked its brass tab. "I got it from the park… Mama said dat we needed birdie-practice 'n so he took me 'n Toth there while you were makin' waffles at work. But this morning on the TV after Ponies it said that today was Muther's Day, and that mamas want jew'ry, and so when a girl at the park put the brace-lit down, I grabbed it wif my mouf an' flew away."

…oh.

Sebastian contemplated his daughter's confession for a long moment, his normally-schooled countenance suddenly touched by notable surprise. Mother's Day? He glanced quickly to his left, where a calendar hung on the kitchen wall. He'd never personally paid much attention to mortal holidays, but his children had inherited "Uncle Ron" and "Uncle Finny's" love for cartoons; corporate America kept all four very much "in the know" via product-pumped commercial breaks. This was not particularly new information: Toth had once asked Sebastian if he owned Kay, since "every kiss begins with them" and he saw his parents exchange quite a few, and Asmus had insisted that they leave Coca Cola out for Santa on Christmas eve, swearing up and down that brand-name soda was the only thing that he (and polar bears) drank. And then, right before Valentine's Day… Well, anyway. Giving his head a second shake— to clear it, this time around— Sebastian breathed an airy chuckle and offered his daughter an exasperated smile for her efforts. "…If this is a gift for Mother's Day," he questioned in vague amusement, "why are you not giving it to your Mama?"

The child didn't miss a beat.

"Mama said he likes silver better."

"…did he," Sebastian drawled, tone as flat as the expression he wore. Asmus didn't seem to notice the change to his visage, focusing instead on stacking all of the coins she'd found this past month and collected in her pockets. Forty-one cents didn't make for much of a tower, but it did make a nice sound when it toppled.

"Mhm," the fledgling returned as she played. "Also, he said that Mamas are usually the ones who have the babies, and that you did that, even though you're Daddy, so you deserved the brace-lit more. And that I can give him earrings for Fadder's Day instead."

"…" Raking his free hand through his loose forelocks, Sebastian leveled a heavy sigh— pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to sort the unnecessary details from the information that he wanted. In essence, this all seemed to come down to the fact that his daughter was a thief. "So, in honor of it being Mother's Day, you stole a bracelet from some poor girl you saw in the park?" he translated, the words curt with condemnation and tone cold with disapproval. Her father's apparent anger made the young girl pause, finally turning to meet his eyes… but his virulent emotions did nothing to affect her casual expression, nor her general sense of apathy.

"Yup," Asmus thus returned, undaunted.

"You realize that stealing is bad, correct?" the elder devil pressed, seemingly irritated. The bracelet jostled as he brandished it, waggling the band back and forth in his daughter's face as if it were a reprimanding finger. "It is a naughty thing to do, and if anyone caught you, you would be in very serious trouble. Humans put people who steal into jail. Do you understand that?"

"Uh-huh." She was lining her origami gum wrappers into rows, now, from largest to smallest… Though she did make certain to keep a respectful watch on her father as he continued his verbal tirade. The demonling might have been born a monster, but she hadn't been raised as an animal; there was a difference between personifying evil and having no manners. "I understand."

"Are you sorry for having done something bad, then?" Sebastian persisted curtly, trying to shame his child with an aloof aura and a standoffish stare. He watched her from down the slope of his steep nose, imperious and irate. And all the while, the wielded jewelry wavered in his grasp; all the while, Asmus regarded her father dully, utterly unabashed.

"No."

"…I see." At this, Sebastian's purse-lipped scowl contorted upon his pale face— twisting into a slow, sweet grin as his glimmering eyes shone vermillion with glee. "Oh, precious girl," he then cooed, chuckling as he slipped the bracelet properly onto his wrist. His beam brightened all the more as he regarded the present, cheeks a ruddy red with delight as contentment squeezed at his chest. They grow up so fast, but oh—the joy, the bliss in watching them learn and mature and thrive. Asmus would one day be a first-rate devil, and it all began with lovely little moments like this. Sebastian thought be might cry, he really did… "I am so very proud of you. So proud, and so touched," he rasped in a whisper, too choked with love and gratitude to speak any more coherently. Reaching out—beads clicking, romper rustling— the demon pulled his hatchling into his waiting arms, squeezing her tight and nuzzling her temple. "Truly, this is the best gift I ever could have received."

"…"

For a long while, Asmus said nothing in response to this—merely allowed herself to be cuddled, hiding her face in the crook of Sebastian's neck when she feared she might look too pleased, or too pink. (She was, after all, her Mama's daughter. Or… um, her Father's daughter, now? Or… wait.) She frowned, pulling away enough to eye Sebastian in confusion. "…so… are you still Daddy, or are you Mama, now?" she innocently inquired, batting long eyelashes in a show of mild bewilderment.

Sebastian chortled, lightly kissing her forehead. "Are you Toth when you open his Christmas and birthday presents?"

"No…"

"Then I am still Daddy, regardless of this Mother's Day gift," he declared, smiling softly as he set his daughter back upon the ground. She returned his expression happily before returning to her toys, giggling when Sebastian bopped her on the button nose. "But speaking of your mother," he cheerfully added, still admiring his new adornment as he stood and straightened. "I had best go find him."

"Find Mama?" Although her attention had never been famed for its staying power— in fact, she had technically already returned to her games—, Asmus nevertheless managed to stop humming the Star Trek theme long enough to ask the most infamous of childhood questions: "…why?" Not that she particularly cared about what Daddy wanted with Mama; it just seemed a query worth posing. Since Daddy had wasted her time with so many silly questions, himself. It was fair, and all.

Of course, in the end, it was just as well that she wasn't looking for a detailed answer, because Sebastian had no intention of giving one. Not until she was about 13 years older, anyway. (And even then, the less descriptive he had to be, the better.)

"Well, it is Mother's Day, as you so astutely pointed out," the devil beamed, all but skipping off in the direction of the bedroom. "And since he was kind enough to forfeit this bracelet for my sake, I should like to give your Mama a present of my own."

"Oh. Alright, then," Asmus returned blandly, despite being aware that her father was no longer paying her much notice. (Well, she had to have gotten her own short span from somewhere.) Unconcerned by the apparent lack of audience, the fledgling unfolded an aluminum swan, turned it into a delicate foil airplane, and murmured after Sebastian: "Just make sure to use your indoor voice when you give Mama all of that new Kay-stuff. Toth is napping."

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