“I just need someone to take him in for a year or so,” The woman pleaded. She had been a friend of his mother and that was honestly the only reason he had entertained the idea. “Your mother said you have a nice home and a stable income? I want the best for my boy, but I can’t give him that right now.”
“And there’s no family that can take him?” He has to bite back the frown, keeping his face neutral. “Surely he could even stay with my mother? She has much more experience raising a child.”
“Y’zhet-” His mother made to speak up.
“Zhet.” Zhet corrected firmly, he hadn’t used his tribal name in years he wasn’t about to start now.
“Zhet, the point is I don’t have the space. You know I would.” She turned him to look at her, her age having brought her down to shorter than him and all he could do was sigh. “Please my sweet one. You are so good and could give this child so much he wouldn’t have otherwise.”
“Mother, I’m constantly gone. I have digs I go one and missions for work. I don’t have time for a kit.” He sighed, he could feel himself close to giving in however. That face was always hard to say no to, it was something he had always resented. He stood his ground, listening to their arguments before finally after half an hour of back and forth he finally caved, shoulders slouching as he covered his face.
“Fine! Fine.” He groaned. “I’ll take him in, but only for a year.” He raised his head and pointed at the boys mother. “Should you not have the stable home and such by then I will give him to mother and you,” A clawed finger moved to point at the older woman, “will take him in no matter how much room you may or may not have.”
“Deal!” the mother jumped up, clapping her hands once. Turning her head she faced the door to his mothers room, “Suzu’to! Come out little one.”
Turning his head Zhet looked at his mother with a frown mouthing ‘to’ in a question manner. This woman had another son? Then where was he? Why was Zhet being forced to take in her second child? His questions were paused when a young miqo’te boy came out, blue-grey skin only a few shades darker than his snow white hair. The most striking feature on the boy, however, was the sharp red eyes that reflected the light. The boy clings to his mother's leathers, hiding partially behind her leg as he peaked out. Seeing Y’akya, Zhet’s mother, he seemed to perk up and dodge around the woman’s legs to dash over to the Seeker.
“Nana!!” The boy called out as he laughed and scrambled up to hug her, Zhet had to watch in shock.
“Mother?”
“Suzu comes over quite a bit to get away from her own family.” She explained, though her face looks a little pained. “Little Suzu’to has taken to calling me ‘nana’. Isn’t that right dear one?”
The boy nods vigorously before looking up at Zhet and he practically withdraws, like he’s trying to hide away.
“Come now Suzu’to, this is my little boy. His name is Zhet and he’s going to take care of you for a while while your mama is away.” She explains, hand combing through the short white hair and petting the boys large black tipped ears. The look she gives her own son over the boys head is one that says he knows what he should be doing and that he needs to do it now. He feels like a kit when she gives him that look. Crouching down he holds out a hand, open palm, and confurs a small whirlwind in his hand.
“It’s good to meet you Suzu’to, I’m Zhet.” the kit seemed interested in the small cyclone he had formed and soon crawled out of Y’akya’s lap and instead made his way over to Zhet. The boy smiled, all teeth, and was soon sitting infront of Zhet watching as he conjured a few other little things.
Eventually Zhet took the boy home, glad for the space and warmth. Suzu’to seemed to take to the home quickly, behaving and at first it seemed easy. There were a few hiccups, after all no child could be perfect. The more the boy told him of his mother however the more he felt they wouldn’t be seeing her again. An anger boiled in his heart, a Coeurl Claw, abandoning her boy on the first ‘good’ person she could. Now he understood why he hadn’t heard anything about the older son, he had probably been given off just as little Suzu’to had.
One night after almost a year later, after Suzu’to had been put to bed, Zhet paced in his own room talking to his mother over a pearl he had given her.
“Mother, did you know?”
“Of course I knew, but she said she was trying to leave.”
“And?”
“And?” Her voice echo’s back in a way that has him wanting to toss one of his books against a wall.
“And have you heard anything from her?”
“No...not in a while.”
“When was the last time you spoke to her.” He hissed, stopping in his tracks. He had to stop himself in his pacing. How long had his mother known she wasn’t coming back.
“....since a couple months after she sent him to you.”
“Mother!! Why didn’t you say anything! He should be in a home that can care for him!”
“You can care for him! You have for almost a year now!”
“I….I can’t keep a child forever mother!” His voice rose louder without him realizing it. “I do not have the ability to raise a child mother, I don’t have--” He stopped...a soft crying hitting his ears before the sound of small footsteps up the stairs. “Shit…”
“Y’zhet?”
“I have to go mother!” Without giving her a reason he removed the pearl, setting it haphazardly on a table and took off. He heard the front door open but didn’t hear it close and when he managed to make it up the stairs he saw the door wide open. “No...no no no nonono…”
The night air was sort of muggy in Hingashi and it took a moment for Zhet to tell where the sound of crying was coming from. It was getting further away...towards the beach. Jogging over his bare feet met sand just as he watched the boy drop to the shore, ears pinned back as he sobbed. The boy had heard him, of course he had. Zhet had never been the best at keeping his volume down when he was angry. With careful steps he managed to make his way to the small kit, ears flicking down at the sound of his crying. In one moment the boy had learned that not only had his mother not wanted him...but the man that had been taking care of him didn’t either. Zhet felt like a lead ball had dropped into his stomach as he moved to sit next to Suzu’to.
“Suzu’t-”
“Go away!”
“Come on, it’s late…”
“Go away, I hate you!” The boy lashed out, striking Zhet in the arm as he went to take off, slipping on sand before the older miqo’te caught him and pulled him into his lap. Suzu’to struggled, growling and hissing like a wild kit. “Let me go! You don’t want me anyways!”
“Suzu’to, it’s not that easy.”
“Why not! I like it here! I like being here with you!” It took a while but soon the keeper kit stopped struggling and turned to curl into Zhet’s chest, tucking his head under the larger miqo’te’s chin. Still he cried, quieter this time.
“I know...it’s hard to explain. I’m sorry you had to hear all that Suzu’to.” Zhet hummed, nuzzling his cheek on the top of Suzu’to’s head. “I don’t hate you.”
“Then why can’t I stay?” Another sniffle.
“Because...I….I can’t always be here to take care of you. I have to work and I have other obligations--”
“But Aunty Sami can look after me! Or maybe Uncle Inwa! What about Nana!” He had already chosen those people and what to call them...it was something that made Zhet’s heart warm. His family was practically already Suzu’to’s. Would it really be so fair to make him meet an entirely new family? Again? He’d have to talk to them, and really he could have his mother out from time to time to watch the boy when it was needed. He apparently stayed quite a breath too long as the kit started crying harder again, burying his face in Zhet’s chest. “Please” hiccup “I’ll be good...please don’t make me leave-”
“Suzu’to….” He wrapped his arms around the child and sighed. Damn him for being such a bleeding heart. “Alright, you don’t have to go anywhere. We’ll figure things out, alright?”
“As a family?” Hopeful red eyes raised up to meet his own.
“Yeah, as a family.”
--year later--
“Daaad!” A boy with sharp features and sharper red eyes called through the house. “Dad!”
“Down stairs Suzu’to!” Zhet’s voice called from where he had been reading near the fire. He can hear the loud steps and- “No running in the house Suzu’to!” the steps slowed before suddenly he had strong arms around his neck.
“Dad!”
“I know you have a wider vocabulary than that.” Zhet tilted his head to look at the boy, now so much more grown than when Zhet had first brought him home. “Now what is it, kit.”
“Dad I’m not a kit anymore!!”
“What do you want, my kit.” A teasing lilt coloring the Seeker’s voice.
“Uugh, I was going to ask if I could go hang out with the others!”
“And?”
“Well...can I?!”
Zhet chuckled, ears swiveling forward as he closed his book and reached back to run a hand through Suzu’to’s hair, even if he was promptly swatted at as the boy moved to ‘fix’ the short hair that already stuck up in places. “Just don’t be out too late, a bell or two past sunset.”
“But daaaad, Itsuki gets to stay out later!”
“And how much later is that.” Zhet looks up at the boy who finally stepped back a bit to cross his arms, cheeks puffed out.
“He get’s to stay out ‘til three bells past sunset.”
“Fine, three bells…”
“Yes!”
“And then you come home and do the dishes after dinner.”
“Awwww man! But dad!!”
Zhet laughed, listening to the boy complain before he finally was convinced and took off outside to hang out with his friends. Staring at the fire Zhet thought back to all the years that had passed. He once regretted his decision to take in the small pale Keeper boy, but now...now he couldn’t even think of regretting it. Sure it had been a rough start...but it was nice to have a family. Someone to come home to. Opening his book again he nestled in to his chair, smiling. He waited a few moments before reaching up to tap a pearl nestled in his ear.
“Hey, are you busy? I could use some company...the kit is out.”
@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast
The boy bows to leave his mother’s sitting room, though he knows Kiran never demanded such formalities from anyone she didn’t hate, casting a last glance behind him to see her warm smile turned to her fingers to play against the piano she was seated at.
How could she be so happy? It vexed him, because she wasn’t at all as shallow and thirsty for power and gore like the rest of his family was. She genuinely cared for him and his brother and sister, so why was she here?
Uhg, he can’t forget, she loves his father as well. Too much. She’s not even blind to what he does, she does those things too believe it or not. He just reeks of horribleness to his core, that’s all he is, and even the young boy can see he does not return the love for his wife. Why in hell did she chose him? Kiran was still young and beautiful and loyal, he can see why Valter married her, but she’s still just a pet to him. Even though she’s his lifetime favorite, he doesn’t treat her like the equal that she always tries to be. He’s seen Valter slap a good mood right out of her because she did something he just decided wasn’t allowed all of a sudden. And god, he doesn’t treat his children any better than that at all.
He cries. Speaking of things not allowed in this manor, crying was one of them. A sign of weakness, Valter had said. And one time when the boy asked why, Kiran said it reminded his father of a man he hated more than anything. How could she look him in the eye and say things like that were fair?! She’s so much better than that!
The boy takes his fist away from the wall. Despite a smaller frame than his siblings, he took a huge chunk out of the wall as well as the flesh over his knuckles. Shit. He wasn’t allowed to use magic either, but in his burst of anger, he used it for a split second.
Vlad?!
His mother saw. She was the only one, thank god. She wouldn’t rat him out to his father.
Mom… I’m sorry… He speaks slow as not to stutter. She helped him train his tongue when he was a little boy who got a broken nose at least once a month for it.
Vlad, come here…
Kiran’s arms are warm and protective, but it just feels hollow, because she would never raise her hand against Valter to protect her children from that man that scared him the most. Still, the teenager buries his head into her chest like he would when he was small. She could always comfort him, no matter how bad he got, wailing into her dress like this.
At the end of pickle experiment #2, I've learned a very important lesson: having a mandolin will keep me from hating the world around me.
~~~
i can't wait to get back into playing with food again. i have so many ideas and as my energy and endurance expands, i plan to make so much stuff. anyways, no clue what the pickles in question were
learning the special incantations and arcane knowledge that turns a regular cat into a ✨Special Cat✨ burdened with the ancient task of keeping me from becoming Too Weird™️.
this is a lie. i would automatically become Too Weird™️, it'd just be in a way that folks are generally cool with.
~~~
reading a little bit here and there about registering a pet as an emotional support animal. then when (if) ever i move again, i would be allowed? required? (maybe? hopefully?) to be able to keep cats in my service.
