[FIC] 'Maternal Instincts'
Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2005 1:05 am
A/N: I live. Oh hell yes.
I’ve written this one-shot for three reasons: a) it lodged itself into my head at two in the morning three weeks ago and has not left me alone. This usually indicates a fairly decent story idea. b) I’ve been out of the fandom since February, and I’m trying to get myself back into the swing of things. c) There is a dearth of good FMP fics, and I’d like to think I contribute to the good side of things. But, hey, if I’m wrong, by all means, demolish my ego via review.
Ratings/Category/Etc.: One-shot, Romance/Humor/Something, PG-13/T, mentions of sex, language, etc. etc. Nothing today's average eight-year-old doesn't already know in-depth.
“Maternal Instincts”
By Anysia
She remembered the day her mother had brought Ayame home, a tiny, wrinkled bundle with eyes shut tightly against the glaring light of a new and unfamiliar world. “Kaname, come and meet your new little sister,” her mother had said in a kind, soft voice, kneeling down and holding the baby so she could see.
She had wiped her dirty hands upon the front of her dress, pursed her lips, and stared absently at the infant. After a moment, she poked the bundle with one chubby finger, tilting her head slightly in confusion when it squirmed. “Okay,” she had said after a pause. “I’m done. You can take her back now.”
The interaction had been a running joke with her mother when she was still alive, a point of interest and amusement to discuss over tea and biscuits while the children played outside. “I know it was probably just a cursory moment of sibling rivalry,” her mother would often say to the other mothers, “but with Kaname—“
“You stay in the sandbox until the warden releases you!” her seven-year-old daughter’s voice carried from the yard. Shizu Chidori sighed as she observed Kaname standing before a young boy, arms crossed, a stick held in one hand.
“But—but Chidori, the game’s called ‘Jailbreak,’” the boy stammered, the beginnings of fearful tears appearing at the corners of his eyes.
“Not on my watch, prisoner,” Kaname replied in deadly earnest. She reached out and thwapped him soundly against the side of his head. “Back into the box!”
Mrs. Chidori sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stave off an impending migraine. “I fear for any children she might have.”
Sixteen years later, Kaname Chidori smiled faintly at the memory as she absently continued chopping carrots for her half-completed salad. “Not like he wasn’t asking for punishment,” she remarked to no one in particular. “No one escapes from the watchful eyes of Kaname Chidori.”
She had been thinking of her childhood more and more often these days, for reasons she didn’t entirely comprehend. Usually, her thoughts brought her back to simultaneously happy and painful memories of her mother, the joy of being held in her loving arms and the anguish of losing her when Kaname needed her the most. But now, the focus was more on the children than the parents.
It was really quite strange, she mused when she bothered to examine the subject more thoroughly. Kaname had always subconsciously assumed that her short temper would exclude her from future parenthood, but the more she thought about it, the more viable the possibility became. The idea of being responsible for another person’s well-being, for caring for them, watching them grow and change…it was now somehow…charming. Almost appealing.
Kaname exhaled slowly and set her chopping knife to the side, bracing her hands against the cool marble countertop. “I guess at this point it’s not really idle speculation, either,” she noted with a frown. She made a mental note to discuss it with Sousuke when he returned from…Malaysia? The Philippines? Wherever the hell they’d sent him this time.
Their relationship continued to amaze her, at least when she took the time to examine it within the context of normal social relationships. “How’d you meet your boyfriend again?” her coworkers would ask every once in awhile. Kaname often got the urge to state the truth—namely that a largely underground mercenary organization had assigned a likely insane teenager to guard her against a group of unknown assailants who desperately wanted to pick apart her brain, and the two of them had fallen in love amidst a hail of bullets and spilled blood. Fine, thanks, do we have any decaf left in the break room?
They’d never even said they loved each other. Even after Mithril had rescued her from her three-month-long captivity at the hands of Amalgam, when Sousuke had held her tightly against him and kissed her and she screamed and cried and kissed him back, they’d never said it. Time passed—graduation, college, the new cohabitation at which her father had nearly suffered a heart attack, much to her “sadistic daughter” persona’s delight. Everything side-by-side, the good and the bad. Kaname could have sworn that she’d heard the absent words the first time she and Sousuke had finally made love, whispered amidst passionate pants and moans. But she wasn’t entirely sure a mid-coital declaration of love was truly admissible, as outlined by any number of poorly-written chick lit novels.
Besides, in their situation, melodramatic declarations of love were almost superfluous. Kaname toyed absently with a sliced carrot upon the damp cutting board, deeply in thought. Really, if Sousuke had ever shown up at the door with chocolates and flowers, taking her into his arms and telling her how much he loved her, her first reaction would probably be to fear for her life, as her other half would clearly have been brainwashed and/or replaced with a decoy by some organization hellbent on obtaining her knowledge of Black Technology. No, Kaname knew he loved her when he swore to protect her at the expense of his own life, his gaze fiery, determined, and unblinking as he held her hand tightly. Or when he spent two hours instructing her in proper self-defense techniques because, as he admitted, “I can’t imagine my life without you now.”
Kaname smirked and rubbed at a small bit of stubborn grease upon the countertop. “We’re just like Romeo and Juliet in our own way.” Her smirk faded into a wistful smile.
Seven years. Hard to believe it’d been that long already. She and Sousuke had idly discussed marriage once or twice, usually after exhaustion from the night’s lovemaking had set in and they’d lie awake, talking about everything and nothing. But they’d never really discussed children. Kaname was often hesitant to mention her childhood for fear of resurrecting painful memories of her youth, and Sousuke didn’t really have a childhood of which to speak. Once, briefly, he had held her tightly, his head bowed against her neck, and mentioned vague memories of his mother, his voice filled with confusion and a hint of despair. Anyone else would have detected nothing beneath his usual monotone, but Kaname knew him better than anyone. They never discussed the subject again.
But I want a child. At some point, at least…
Kaname almost feared their potential offspring. Violent and temperamental…with a love for guns and ammo. We’d be the proud parents of a serial killer, she mused, the corners of her mouth inadvertently turning down.
Sousuke’s possible parenting was still questionable, though. He’d adjusted to civilian life…at least in the sense that he didn’t constantly set bombs in public places due to innocuous statements he construed as terroristic threats. However, several problems still remained…such as Sousuke’s unwavering tendency to hold deliverymen at gunpoint until he was convinced that they meant no harm. He was convinced that each package that came into their apartment building contained a bomb, or at least a deadly virus. After every incident thus far she’d sat him down and given him a stern talking-to, but the lectures never seemed to stick. What social behaviors would he impart as acceptable to a child?
And the weaponry. Thanks to Sousuke, their apartment was practically a bunker. Everything would have to be completely overhauled if they had a child. The guns would have to go, including the pistol he kept under his pillow that scared her half to death in the middle of the night. “He’d damn well better learn to pick up after himself, too,” Kaname muttered to herself. Too many times he’d left suddenly for a mission, leaving her to tackle all of the housework by herself.
And what if their potential child came running into Mommy and Daddy’s bedroom in the middle of the night, in hysterical tears from a particularly vivid nightmare? Would he know how to handle that? Kaname frowned slightly, a crease forming upon her brow. Sousuke himself was a horribly restless sleeper, often sitting up bolt-right in bed, breathing heavily and shaking, reaching for his gun even as his nightmares had not yet been replaced by the stillness of night. He always managed to wake Kaname, and she would hold him and gently stroke his hair as she soothed him back to sleep. It was the only thing that ever seemed to work, and she always felt a hint of pride at the knowledge that Sousuke trusted her enough to let her calm him.
But how on earth would she retain her sanity raising a child and Sousuke at the same time?
The worried frown slowly disappeared at the thought. Carefully pushing the chopped carrots into a small pile with the edge of her knife and setting the whole mess aside, Kaname leaned back against the countertop, ignoring the slight dampness soaking through her thin top. “Of course,” she said with a small smile.
In the end, Sousuke was often like a child. The curiosity, the hesitation, the naïveté…the fact that he loved and trusted her unconditionally.
Being responsible for another person’s well-being…for caring for them…watching them change and grow… With a start, she realized that she already employed her maternal instincts in her romantic relationship with Sousuke.
“So I guess there’s no hurry,” Kaname noted with a small smile.
Her eyebrows raised slightly at the sound of a key turning in the door.
“Speaking of the devil…” she said with a smirk, drying her hands upon a nearby dishtowel.
“Kaname,” the newcomer greeted as he appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I’m sorry, the mission was longer than I had anticipated, and the commander insisted upon commending us on a job well done. I declined the offer but was rather forcefully ordered to—“ He was cut off in mid-sentence by the force of Kaname’s embrace. “Kaname?”
“Jerk,” she muttered against his chest. “You could have called. I missed you.”
“I missed you as well, though I believe that’s implied.”
“Sousuke…I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?” he asked, resting his chin against the top of her head.
“Kids. You know, what we would do if we had ‘em.”
Sousuke jerked slightly in her embrace. “Uhh…Kaname…I was under the impression that we were adequately prepared against unexpected—“
“I’m not pregnant, Sousuke, calm down.” She reached up to kiss him quickly. “But you know, I was thinking about the eventuality. And I was actually thinking that I might want a kid now.”
“Uh…um…you…we…”
“But then I figured…” Kaname said with a smirk, pulling out of the embrace to hold Sousuke’s hand and look directly into his eyes. “I’d better keep practicing with you before I try mothering from scratch.” She laughed and pulled him into another kiss.
Sousuke kissed her back somewhat half-heartedly, his thoughts racing. After carefully breaking away, he held her shoulders and slowly said, “Kaname…I’m not entirely sure I understand the situation at hand.”
“Don’t worry,” Kaname said gently, taking his hand. “I’ll explain everything to you after we celebrate your homecoming.”
“Kaname…?”
“…and I really hope I have some visual aids lying around.”
--END
End A/N: Strangely enough, I really, really hate kids. You'd never know it from my constant use of them, though, would you? Anyway, C&C welcome.
I’ve written this one-shot for three reasons: a) it lodged itself into my head at two in the morning three weeks ago and has not left me alone. This usually indicates a fairly decent story idea. b) I’ve been out of the fandom since February, and I’m trying to get myself back into the swing of things. c) There is a dearth of good FMP fics, and I’d like to think I contribute to the good side of things. But, hey, if I’m wrong, by all means, demolish my ego via review.
Ratings/Category/Etc.: One-shot, Romance/Humor/Something, PG-13/T, mentions of sex, language, etc. etc. Nothing today's average eight-year-old doesn't already know in-depth.
“Maternal Instincts”
By Anysia
She remembered the day her mother had brought Ayame home, a tiny, wrinkled bundle with eyes shut tightly against the glaring light of a new and unfamiliar world. “Kaname, come and meet your new little sister,” her mother had said in a kind, soft voice, kneeling down and holding the baby so she could see.
She had wiped her dirty hands upon the front of her dress, pursed her lips, and stared absently at the infant. After a moment, she poked the bundle with one chubby finger, tilting her head slightly in confusion when it squirmed. “Okay,” she had said after a pause. “I’m done. You can take her back now.”
The interaction had been a running joke with her mother when she was still alive, a point of interest and amusement to discuss over tea and biscuits while the children played outside. “I know it was probably just a cursory moment of sibling rivalry,” her mother would often say to the other mothers, “but with Kaname—“
“You stay in the sandbox until the warden releases you!” her seven-year-old daughter’s voice carried from the yard. Shizu Chidori sighed as she observed Kaname standing before a young boy, arms crossed, a stick held in one hand.
“But—but Chidori, the game’s called ‘Jailbreak,’” the boy stammered, the beginnings of fearful tears appearing at the corners of his eyes.
“Not on my watch, prisoner,” Kaname replied in deadly earnest. She reached out and thwapped him soundly against the side of his head. “Back into the box!”
Mrs. Chidori sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stave off an impending migraine. “I fear for any children she might have.”
Sixteen years later, Kaname Chidori smiled faintly at the memory as she absently continued chopping carrots for her half-completed salad. “Not like he wasn’t asking for punishment,” she remarked to no one in particular. “No one escapes from the watchful eyes of Kaname Chidori.”
She had been thinking of her childhood more and more often these days, for reasons she didn’t entirely comprehend. Usually, her thoughts brought her back to simultaneously happy and painful memories of her mother, the joy of being held in her loving arms and the anguish of losing her when Kaname needed her the most. But now, the focus was more on the children than the parents.
It was really quite strange, she mused when she bothered to examine the subject more thoroughly. Kaname had always subconsciously assumed that her short temper would exclude her from future parenthood, but the more she thought about it, the more viable the possibility became. The idea of being responsible for another person’s well-being, for caring for them, watching them grow and change…it was now somehow…charming. Almost appealing.
Kaname exhaled slowly and set her chopping knife to the side, bracing her hands against the cool marble countertop. “I guess at this point it’s not really idle speculation, either,” she noted with a frown. She made a mental note to discuss it with Sousuke when he returned from…Malaysia? The Philippines? Wherever the hell they’d sent him this time.
Their relationship continued to amaze her, at least when she took the time to examine it within the context of normal social relationships. “How’d you meet your boyfriend again?” her coworkers would ask every once in awhile. Kaname often got the urge to state the truth—namely that a largely underground mercenary organization had assigned a likely insane teenager to guard her against a group of unknown assailants who desperately wanted to pick apart her brain, and the two of them had fallen in love amidst a hail of bullets and spilled blood. Fine, thanks, do we have any decaf left in the break room?
They’d never even said they loved each other. Even after Mithril had rescued her from her three-month-long captivity at the hands of Amalgam, when Sousuke had held her tightly against him and kissed her and she screamed and cried and kissed him back, they’d never said it. Time passed—graduation, college, the new cohabitation at which her father had nearly suffered a heart attack, much to her “sadistic daughter” persona’s delight. Everything side-by-side, the good and the bad. Kaname could have sworn that she’d heard the absent words the first time she and Sousuke had finally made love, whispered amidst passionate pants and moans. But she wasn’t entirely sure a mid-coital declaration of love was truly admissible, as outlined by any number of poorly-written chick lit novels.
Besides, in their situation, melodramatic declarations of love were almost superfluous. Kaname toyed absently with a sliced carrot upon the damp cutting board, deeply in thought. Really, if Sousuke had ever shown up at the door with chocolates and flowers, taking her into his arms and telling her how much he loved her, her first reaction would probably be to fear for her life, as her other half would clearly have been brainwashed and/or replaced with a decoy by some organization hellbent on obtaining her knowledge of Black Technology. No, Kaname knew he loved her when he swore to protect her at the expense of his own life, his gaze fiery, determined, and unblinking as he held her hand tightly. Or when he spent two hours instructing her in proper self-defense techniques because, as he admitted, “I can’t imagine my life without you now.”
Kaname smirked and rubbed at a small bit of stubborn grease upon the countertop. “We’re just like Romeo and Juliet in our own way.” Her smirk faded into a wistful smile.
Seven years. Hard to believe it’d been that long already. She and Sousuke had idly discussed marriage once or twice, usually after exhaustion from the night’s lovemaking had set in and they’d lie awake, talking about everything and nothing. But they’d never really discussed children. Kaname was often hesitant to mention her childhood for fear of resurrecting painful memories of her youth, and Sousuke didn’t really have a childhood of which to speak. Once, briefly, he had held her tightly, his head bowed against her neck, and mentioned vague memories of his mother, his voice filled with confusion and a hint of despair. Anyone else would have detected nothing beneath his usual monotone, but Kaname knew him better than anyone. They never discussed the subject again.
But I want a child. At some point, at least…
Kaname almost feared their potential offspring. Violent and temperamental…with a love for guns and ammo. We’d be the proud parents of a serial killer, she mused, the corners of her mouth inadvertently turning down.
Sousuke’s possible parenting was still questionable, though. He’d adjusted to civilian life…at least in the sense that he didn’t constantly set bombs in public places due to innocuous statements he construed as terroristic threats. However, several problems still remained…such as Sousuke’s unwavering tendency to hold deliverymen at gunpoint until he was convinced that they meant no harm. He was convinced that each package that came into their apartment building contained a bomb, or at least a deadly virus. After every incident thus far she’d sat him down and given him a stern talking-to, but the lectures never seemed to stick. What social behaviors would he impart as acceptable to a child?
And the weaponry. Thanks to Sousuke, their apartment was practically a bunker. Everything would have to be completely overhauled if they had a child. The guns would have to go, including the pistol he kept under his pillow that scared her half to death in the middle of the night. “He’d damn well better learn to pick up after himself, too,” Kaname muttered to herself. Too many times he’d left suddenly for a mission, leaving her to tackle all of the housework by herself.
And what if their potential child came running into Mommy and Daddy’s bedroom in the middle of the night, in hysterical tears from a particularly vivid nightmare? Would he know how to handle that? Kaname frowned slightly, a crease forming upon her brow. Sousuke himself was a horribly restless sleeper, often sitting up bolt-right in bed, breathing heavily and shaking, reaching for his gun even as his nightmares had not yet been replaced by the stillness of night. He always managed to wake Kaname, and she would hold him and gently stroke his hair as she soothed him back to sleep. It was the only thing that ever seemed to work, and she always felt a hint of pride at the knowledge that Sousuke trusted her enough to let her calm him.
But how on earth would she retain her sanity raising a child and Sousuke at the same time?
The worried frown slowly disappeared at the thought. Carefully pushing the chopped carrots into a small pile with the edge of her knife and setting the whole mess aside, Kaname leaned back against the countertop, ignoring the slight dampness soaking through her thin top. “Of course,” she said with a small smile.
In the end, Sousuke was often like a child. The curiosity, the hesitation, the naïveté…the fact that he loved and trusted her unconditionally.
Being responsible for another person’s well-being…for caring for them…watching them change and grow… With a start, she realized that she already employed her maternal instincts in her romantic relationship with Sousuke.
“So I guess there’s no hurry,” Kaname noted with a small smile.
Her eyebrows raised slightly at the sound of a key turning in the door.
“Speaking of the devil…” she said with a smirk, drying her hands upon a nearby dishtowel.
“Kaname,” the newcomer greeted as he appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I’m sorry, the mission was longer than I had anticipated, and the commander insisted upon commending us on a job well done. I declined the offer but was rather forcefully ordered to—“ He was cut off in mid-sentence by the force of Kaname’s embrace. “Kaname?”
“Jerk,” she muttered against his chest. “You could have called. I missed you.”
“I missed you as well, though I believe that’s implied.”
“Sousuke…I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?” he asked, resting his chin against the top of her head.
“Kids. You know, what we would do if we had ‘em.”
Sousuke jerked slightly in her embrace. “Uhh…Kaname…I was under the impression that we were adequately prepared against unexpected—“
“I’m not pregnant, Sousuke, calm down.” She reached up to kiss him quickly. “But you know, I was thinking about the eventuality. And I was actually thinking that I might want a kid now.”
“Uh…um…you…we…”
“But then I figured…” Kaname said with a smirk, pulling out of the embrace to hold Sousuke’s hand and look directly into his eyes. “I’d better keep practicing with you before I try mothering from scratch.” She laughed and pulled him into another kiss.
Sousuke kissed her back somewhat half-heartedly, his thoughts racing. After carefully breaking away, he held her shoulders and slowly said, “Kaname…I’m not entirely sure I understand the situation at hand.”
“Don’t worry,” Kaname said gently, taking his hand. “I’ll explain everything to you after we celebrate your homecoming.”
“Kaname…?”
“…and I really hope I have some visual aids lying around.”
--END
End A/N: Strangely enough, I really, really hate kids. You'd never know it from my constant use of them, though, would you? Anyway, C&C welcome.
