Chapter 3: Introductions

She cradled her precious child close to her, feeling the young girl’s pain as if it were her own. She yearned to let her go free, and from the grim look on her husband’s face, she could tell that it was hurting him just as badly. But how could she possibly? They were bound by a promise, something beyond their control so many years ago. My darling daughter, so brave, never cries despite everything that they dished out at her. She had calmly accepted her destiny, and still managed to keep her youthful enthusiasm about life. Nothing dimmed her spirits, daunted her soul. Except for today. Maybe it was just her, but she swore her daughter’s eyes seemed just a little sadder.

"Musume-chan?"

"Okaasan..."

That one word. She vividly remembered the first time her precious girl had called her that the very first time. Mother. It had caused her so much happiness, and she had allowed herself to pretend just for one minute that they had a normal life. Motherhood. Her instincts to protect her daughter grew stronger with each passing year. She was now seven years old, and already she was demonstrating skills that exceeded most adults. Her musume was strong, and fearless. A warrior contained in that tiny body. Her husband looked away, unable to bear the pain, and she knew that as much as he loved her, a part of him also hated her for what she had done. That damned promise. She had no choice. He had to understand that. Remembering that voice that spoke to her so long ago, she became lost in her memories, holding her daughter tight.

I need your help again.

"But I thought it was over. I thought I could lead my life normally," she had choked back a sob.

Saddened eyes gazed upon her, and she felt an odd sense of empathy flooding through her.

Believe me. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think this was critical to the existence of the world.

"Take me instead! I’ve done it before... but... my daughter..." Tears fell down, despite her resolve to not cry as she gazed upon her newborn daughter, as her husband cooed and made silly baby noises at the infant in his arms.

I have no choice. Gomen.

She met her husband’s eyes and there was a moment of shared torment. Pressing a gentle kiss on her child’s forehead, the action seemed to calm the agitated girl somewhat. Brushing aside the curls covering her daughter’s eyes, she almost lost it. How much more could she take before this all ended?

"Okaasan, it’s okay. I’ll be okay. It just hurts a bit now, that’s all."

Glimmering and trickling, they moved from her eyes to land gently on the ground beneath her, paying no attention to her pain. I don’t deserve you, my child. You are the best thing that ever happened to us. A choked sound came from her husband and he made his way over, hugging his baby girl close to him. She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t. As if sensing her distress, his blue gaze looked up, and she saw the similar emotions flowing through him. He opened his arms wider, and she went willingly into them, as his embrace encompassed the two people who were his world.

Gomen for everything. Demo, I need her. Gomen.

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She blinked up curiously at him, at the onslaught of people who were about to descend upon him. He seemed blissfully unaware, staring at her intently and she blushed furiously.

"What are you looking at?" She asked softly.

"You..." he whispered huskily, and helplessly when their gazes locked, they felt the familiar pull of being the only one in each other’s world when she suddenly remembered.

"Hoto-chan..."

"Yes?"

"I think those people are your friends."

His face froze, scant millimeters from touching her own, and she somehow managed to blush and giggle at the same time. Moving his head slightly, he looked past her and she could feel a tensing in his body. Perplexed, she wondered why the sight of his friends would bring him some agitation.

"Gomen. I’ll be right back. Don’t move."

He moved hastily, almost as if his life depended upon it. Shouts could be heard, followed by frantic whispering. She frowned at the situation, hurt that he would just abandon her like that, given everything they had been through. Sadness flooded her soul, and for the first time since he had come into her life, she realised just how little she knew about him.

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"Hotohori-sama, who was she?" Nuriko nearly shrieked at him, his voice loudest amongst the group that had immediately pounced upon him like a bunch of vultures on a dead piece of meat, which he would be if he didn’t control the situation.

"Nuriko!" He hissed sharply, motioning for them to come closer. "Keep your voice down."

"What’s going on, Hotohori?" Miaka asked softly, her green eyes trying to understand what was happening. And he realised something. Everything he ever felt for Miaka paled in comparison to what a simple touch from her could do. She was his life now, and if Suzaku would be on his side, and get him over this teeny, tiny hump, she would be his empress one day as well.

"I’ve met someone..."

"That much is obvious," Nuriko grumbled with the oddest look on his face, only to receive a smiley face from Chichiri.

"I thought we had already taken care of the issue," Hotohori growled in frustration. He had to tell them, before ONE of them said something.

"Behave yourself no da!"

Tasuki only grunted in the back as he stared at the onna, who was in turn staring at Hotohori with the most wistful and hurt expression on her face.

"I don’t have a lot of time here, demo you cannot tell her who we are, or what I am."

"Why are you hiding such things from her?" Miaka inquired, concern evident in her voice.

"Because..."

"He better not say it," Nuriko whimpered.

Chichiri merely attempted something like a glare at Nuriko, which he couldn’t do since he was wearing his mask. So he settled for raising his staff, and bashing him on the head.

"Itai! What did you do that for??" Nuriko cried out.

Yanking on Nuriko’s glorious hair, Tamahome merely scowled at him. "This is serious, baka."

"Tell us, Hotohori." Miaka implored softly, though she quickly threw a dirty look at Nuriko.

"I’m in love with her. She’s the one."

A spell of silence greeted him, as was expected. To be honest, Nuriko was taking it a lot better than he had anticipated. A look of joy spread across Miaka’s face as she threw herself into his arms, earning a scowl from Tamahome once again. He could feel the happiness radiating from her, and something else which nagged at him. He loosened Miaka’s arms from around him, and turned to face his beloved slowly. The look she gave him, coming from her remarkable eyes tore at him.

"Just do as I ask. Please."

If they had been stunned earlier, this time, they stopped dead in their tracks, frozen like anime characters. The emperor of Konan had just said please.

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Whoever said that giving birth was painless either had uttered those words after being shot with elephant tranquilizers or never had to push a ten pound baby from her stomach. She moaned, groaned, and made various noises. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she yelled colourful curses that made most of the medical staff present (not to mention the rest of the patients at the hospital) cringe slightly. This delicate, beautiful woman was saying things that no person should ever hear.

"Think of the children, ma’am!" A nurse begged as they struggled to restrain her motions.

"I hate you for doing this to me! It’s all your fault!" She shrieked at her husband, who just stood there, held her hand, and swiped away the hair that was matted on her forehead.

"Sir, you’re incredible." A doctor said with an almost hero worship look on his face.

"You should’ve seen her mood swings," was all her husband would say.

"Don’t... talk... about... me... like I’m... not a part... of the conversation! Stop being such a ... condescending jerk!! AAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Push ma’am push!"

"I hate you!!!"

After much swearing and panic attacks from various nurses (and doctors), the squalling of a baby’s cries could be heard. The medical staff (and the rest of the hospital) breathed a sigh of relief at the tears that broke down on her face, and the female members gave an envious sigh of happiness at the handsome man who had the most tender look on his face.

"My baby... can I hold her?" She pleaded, still slightly out of breath and drained from her efforts. Yet, the joy that flooded her was nothing like she had ever imagined it would be like. All thoughts of the pain and indignity of the process fled from her head as she gazed upon the red-faced, wailing infant. The tiny fingers, the delicate form that she had nursed in her womb for nine months all added up to a miracle. Her eyes flew up to meet her husband, who had moved over to sit by her side, as the doctor gently passed the baby to her. Her precious bundle, the baby that they had created together. She cried at the sight of the infant, which in turn made the baby cry even harder upon such harsh noises.

"Look at this..." He whispered softly, a reverent light on his face as he took in the face of their child for the first time. How could mere words ever describe such perfection or the emotions that he had felt?

"I... it’s... oh my god..."

Smiling gently at his wife, he kissed her forehead as she struggled to control her emotions.

"A symbol of our love... and like it, perfection." The baby stopped wailing upon hearing its mother’s cries stop and began cooing at them. His heart absolutely melted, and from the watering pot his wife had become upon that sight, he could safely say that she was feeling the same thing.

"You are the proud parents of an extremely healthy baby. Congratulations." The doctor said, slightly relieved to get the couple out of his hair. He nodded in the other man’s direction, who backed out quickly and could not get out of the room fast enough.

"What shall we name her?"

With his arms securely around his family, he vowed to protect them for always. Never would any harm come to them, and he would not lose them. Things would be different. He would make sure that his precious baby girl would never get hurt, that no boy would ever toy with her heart. If she fell, he wanted to be there to catch her, and make her better. She and her mother were his life. It was as simple as that.

"Sora."

Smiling at her husband, she saw the intensity of his emotions on his face, the tears that were almost free from their prison. Remembering his past and all he had experienced, she felt so touched, and so loved.

"It’s perfect." She whispered softly, and pressed a soft kiss on her daughter’s forehead. Some strange imp of mischief had gotten to her however and she couldn’t resist adding, "So how old do you think she should be before she starts dating?"

Her husband’s shouts could be heard all throughout the hospital as people ran for cover. And in her arms, the baby smiled delighted, motioning her tiny arms towards the apparition that had appeared in the back of the room, unbeknownst to her parents.