A loud piercing scream filled the room...before the very loud squalling of a newborn infant was heard.
The mother looked exhausted and who could blame her? Her arms were almost too tired to hold her newborn son.
"What is his name?" asked the midwife.
"Little Bird," replied the father. It was a perfectly acceptable name for either gender, and one a child could grow into. However only time would tell what sort of 'bird' his new son would become.
Either way he would happily watch his son grow up with pride and utmost joy. He already loved the child with every fiber of his being.
Feng held his new son tenderly, but with a fiercely protective aura. One that only grew when the child opened it's eyes for the first time, revealing gray, almost blue eyes like his mother. He already had Feng's hair...his mother was a brunette after all.
Feng could accept Mei's betrayal as a mother when she fled his small cottage for 'fear' of the fact that his enemies would use her against him. There had been no love between them, it had been an arranged marriage. But it still pissed him off that she would abandon their son like that without a second thought. Fortunately his child had mostly been weened off his mother's milk and was starting the mashed foods. There was no hardship in buying formula until his little one no longer needed it.
So he had been reincarnated? Normally he'd say that sort of thing sucked, but this was quite likely the best thing to happen to him.
No more crazy fiancees, no shattered honor, no more pressure to marry an abusive woman who had no real idea of what being a martial artist was about, no more dealing with either of those ghouls.
Ranma Saotome, or Little Bird, could honestly say things were looking up.
Especially when he was finally old enough to see his new father. He had long since figured out his mother had ditched him... disappointing, but he could live that fact. So long as his new father wasn't anything like the bastard who raised him in his last life he could handle it.
The man moved like a master martial artist. He was already pleased with the fact he wouldn't have to work from scratch on half-remembered memories... he was sure if he asked his new father nicely the man would train him without losing his honor twice.
"Little Bird, are you in pain?" said the man softly, as he gently picked his son up.
Ranma nuzzled into his father's chest, feeling safe and relaxed for the first time in years. However that didn't change the fact his mouth was murdering him as he whimpered. The man chuckled, and gently rubbed some weird gel that soothed the ache.
Seeing something swinging nearby, he tried to grab it...and managed to snag it on the fifth try...it was a braid.
"Now, now little one. If you're hungry I can get you some food. That's not something you should eat," he chuckled.
It was a good thing Ranma was passably fluent in Chinese from his last life. He could understand most of what the man was saying or at least make a reasonable guess at it.
Ranma's stomach was making noise, but he could handle it. However his father noticed his squirming and chuckled. He juggled his young son in one hand with ease, while he prepared a some food. Ranma leaned against the man, partly to bask in the safety the older martial artist presented, but mostly so he could observe the 'aura' the man had.
This man was someone who had spilled blood before and would likely do the same again. However he had the 'feel' of an honorable martial artist who had likely gotten roped into the Triads through no fault of his own. The sort of opponent Ranma would have loved to fight against because there was no hard feelings or ridiculous challenges should one of them win. He would at least state his intentions openly rather than stab his opponent in the back.
Yeah, his previous father had been a coward and a thief, but the simple fact of the matter was that Ranma would rather be related to a Triad assassin than that bastard. Genma had completely ruined his son's honor as a martial artist and caused him no end of issues... being reincarnated was likely the only way he could have salvaged his honor and self-dignity as a martial artist.
Ranma put away most of the mashed food, before his father rubbed him on the back. He let out a particularly loud yawn, which included a bit of dribble on the man's shoulder.
Feeling sleepy, he grabbed onto the robe the older man was wearing and didn't let go. His father seemed mostly amused by this, because Ranma woke up the next morning lying next to his new father.
Indignity of being an infant or not, he could easily get used to this.
Feng was practicing his katas, mostly to limber up for the day. His adorable little son was sitting up...mostly... watching him practice. He had to grin a bit when he saw how he had managed to capture the child's attention...somehow he had the feeling his little bird would be asking for martial arts lessons in a few short years, just to be like his father.
Finishing up for the morning, Feng walked over to his son and cooed at him. His little bird was far too cute for his own good, even if he gave the most adorable baby glares whenever he put the child into a new onesie.
Feng very nearly dropped the jar he was carrying to the table for his son's breakfast when the infant looked right at him...and said his first word.
"Papa."
Hearing his little one stutter for a bit, Feng almost swore he had imagined it. Then his little bird smirked almost cockily and repeated it with a far steadier voice.
"Papa!"
Feng did drop the jar and happily cuddled with his son. He was so happy and pleased! His little bird snuggled into his shoulder repeating the word twice more, before he suddenly reminded Feng that he hadn't had any breakfast yet.
He was so pleased by the way the day had started that he decided to bring out some of the new toys he had gotten his son.
Though he was honestly surprised by the way his little bird shied away from any of the 'cat-themed' toys. As a slight test, Feng discreetly placed one near his son...only for the child to crawl as fast as possible away from it. If he didn't know any better he would swear his little one was scared of cats.
A few more attempts, each with the same result, confirmed his suspicions. And made him wonder what exactly caused his little bird to develop Ailurophobia, or the fear of cats. It wasn't just domestic cats either! His little one refused to go near anything feline related.
Feng could take a hint easily enough, and removed all the feline-themed toys from his son's presence...and discreetly did away with any cat-onesies. He was so sure his son would have looked positively adorable in that tiger outfit too. Oh well.
Seeing the relief in his son's eyes was enough to convince him. He spent the entire day playing with his little bird, helping to chase away any lingering fear the boy might have had. He had to hide his amusement when he realized that his little bird was already showing signs he would be every bit as fast, if not faster, than his father. Just seeing how quickly the boy was crawling, or at least attempting to, made him want to laugh with delight. Feng had a rather amusing time playing "keep away" with his braid. His little bird definitely wanted to grab it.
Later that night he cuddled with his son with a smile on his face.
A few months later...
Ranma was observing his Chichiue, or Feng. He could already tell he liked his father far better than he ever had that fat panda. Feng had picked up on the fact he absolutely hated those furry-devils and had been quick to get rid of anything that was related to them in the house. He was sure that Feng had a few onesies that he had been planning to put him in, so he was beyond relieved his father had gotten rid of them instead.
He could live with being dressed up in ridiculous outfits like polar bears, dragons, koalas and other silly animal costumes so long as he never had to endure looking like those things.
Besides he had gotten a good look at the tattoo on Feng's shoulder and it was awesome. He wondered if his Chichiue would let him get a tattoo like that when he was older.
Feng had been so ridiculously pleased when he called him 'father' in Chinese. Sure, his pronounciation had been a bit off on his first few tries, but at least he remembered how to say it without mangling it completely!
Ranma's attention was fully focused on the door, which had Feng looking that way too.
He had a really bad feeling about the person who was hiding in the shadows.
A feeling that only got worse when Feng clearly intended to leave his son with a minder for a bit so he could go on a job.
Ranma couldn't really speak Japanese without raising a hell of a lot of questions as to how he knew the language...but he could raise a massive tantrum.
Every time Feng attempted to leave the house, Ranma would throw a massive fit. Even though doing so exhausted him. Feng's eyes creased in an unhappy manner. It would take him at least an hour and a half to soothe the unhappy child who was edging very close to two years old now. And just when he thought his little bird was finally calm down, the boy would start up again.
Needless to say Feng couldn't leave that day. He was too worried his son would work himself up into a frenzy and become sick. He could already tell the boy was screaming himself hoarse.
"Little bird, what has gotten into you?" said Feng with open concern.
After one last aborted attempt to leave, Feng sighed with exasperation. He couldn't very well leave if his child was sick. The woman had planned to hire to watch his son clicked her tongue at him.
"You should not spoil him so much," she said in disapproval.
"He's not normally like this. I've left on jobs before that took a few weeks at most and he never made a peep. This is the first time he's made such a fuss about me leaving," said Feng, rubbing his poor exhausted son's back.
Satisfied Feng wasn't about to leave anytime soon, the child crashed against his father with an exhausted slump.
Worried his son might have made himself sick with the sheer amount of protesting the day before, Feng took him to a trusted doctor to have him checked over.
"His throat is a bit enflamed and his voice is a little scratchy... but otherwise he's fine. However I would recommend against any talking for a day or two. If he starts screaming you had better check on him fast," said the doctor.
Feng might not be a mind-reader like a certain Sun claimed to be, but he could read the expression in his son's eyes easily enough. His little bird wasn't afraid to start up an even bigger tantrum if Feng even tried to leave.
The martial artist sighed.
He bent down to his son's eye level.
"Little bird, I have to go to this meeting. It's important."
"Papa no! Bad!"
Considering Feng had a bad feeling about the man hiring him for whatever job he wanted done, he couldn't blame his son for trying to stop him from going. Clearly his little bird had picked up something from his prospective client and didn't want his father in harm's way.
Feng gently ruffled his son's hair.
"Little bird, I need to go to this meeting. At least to see what the job is about. Once I find out more details I'll come right back," promised Feng.
"Papa promise?" said his son, with a slight crack in his voice. Feng could already feel the glare from the doctor.
"I promise to come right back after the meeting," said Feng. "So long as it does not draw any of my enemies to you."
Feng felt a measuring gaze from his son, and knew if he broke that promise his little bird would never trust him again.
A few days later, once Feng reassured his son he would return in a day or two, he finally made his way to Italy.
And the second he saw the gathering of people in the room, he knew something was up. There was no job on the planet that needed so many skilled individuals that would also require his skills. He did slightly pity the Cloud, who was obviously a civilian who had gotten drawn in for who knew what reason.
However the second he saw Renato Sinclair, the man who had recently gained the title of "World's Greatest Hit Man", he knew that his skills were overkill at best.
Sinclair was a nuisance and a troll, but he was one of the rare people Feng acknowledged as his equal when it came to skills.
Mind made up, Feng politely declined the offer for the job and was already making plans to return to China. He was not betraying his son's trust, regardless of how lucrative the paycheck would be.
The second he felt the Sky's flames attempt to press upon his own, likely to try and convince him to stay, Feng's eyes turned red.
"Please do not do that again. I would hate to paint the walls with your blood for attempting to force me into a false bond," said Feng with every show of politeness...save for the fact he was clearly pissed.
Luce almost winced, but she held her ground.
"We could really use you," she said.
"If you require a Storm that badly, find someone else. I made a promise with someone that I fully intend to keep, and while the job does appear lucrative I have no intention of breaking it," said Feng flatly.
"A promise?" said Renato curiously.
"I wasn't allowed to leave my house until I agreed to merely come and see what the job was about and return right back," replied Feng. "And if you attempt to keep me here, then you had best be prepared to pay a very hefty price for interfering."
Sky or not, he would rather spend time with his son than a rag-tag group of strong flames. Especially when the only thing that would be accomplished was nothing short of overkill.
He left the meeting with an annoyed feeling and was back in China before morning. It took him twelve hours to return to his son, who looked shocked (likely because Feng had kept his promise to return promptly after the meeting) and happy (that his father was back).
"I'm home, little bird. I did keep my promise after all," said Feng gently.
"Papa!"
Feng felt something in his chest unclench, as he held his son closely to him. His little bird happily hugged his father very tightly and refused to let him out of his sight for the next two days, not that Feng minded.