He'd always loved stories. For as long as he could remember, he'd been enthralled by a good story. Four hundred years--he'd heard most of them. It didn't matter. A story was a story. He'd passed many nights around a small campfire, listening to storytellers.

Kuronue . . . Kuronue had frequently teased him that he could be stopped mid-heist by a well-told story. He'd once even called, during a heist, and said "Once upon a time . . . " as if he were going to tell a story. (All that had gotten him was a cuff on the back of the head and a whispered, "Smartass!")

But as good a storyteller as Kuronue had been, 'Kaasan was even better. She would read from a book, but as the story progressed, she'd stop looking at it. She'd move her hands and vary her voice, almost acting the story. It was fascinating.

As he got into his pajamas--pesky things--he felt the excitement build. It was almost time. 'Kaasan would check to be sure he'd brushed his teeth, and tuck him in, and then . . . then she'd tell him a bedtime story. He wondered what one it would be tonight.

The door opened, and 'Kaasan came in, beautiful as always. In some corner of his mind, he wondered why her name--Shiori--never brought her face to mind. 'Okaasan', on the other hand, immediately evoked images of silky black hair, smiling dark eyes, and this gentle face.

"Are you ready for your story, Shuiichi-chan?" she asked in her soft voice. Kurama nodded solemnly. "Did you brush your teeth?" He smiled to let her see that yes, he had. She gave him a quick hug, then urged him into bed. He scrambled up under the sheets and laid back on his pillow, letting 'Kaasan tuck the covers in tight around him. "I'm going to read you a new story tonight," she said, pulling out the slender volume.

Kurama wondered if it would really be new to him. He hoped so. Not that he was bored with the old ones, of course, but a new one would be nice. He squirmed a bit, getting his arms free and fluffing up his pillow.

"Once upon a time," 'Kaasan began, as always. "In a faraway kingdom, there lived a prince."

"What did he look like?" Kurama wanted to know.

"He had red hair," 'Kaasan said, tugging gently on some of his, "and green eyes." She tapped his nose.

"Not really!" Kurama protested skeptically.

"Yes, really," 'Kaasan said with a laugh. "It says so right here." She tapped the book. Suspicious, Kurama crawled out from under the covers and squinted at the book. 'Kaasan moved it for him to see better solemnly.

Nope. Still couldn't read. Stupid ningen characters were all different from ones in Makai. There was one that might have been 'red', but he couldn't be sure. With a mistrustful sideways glance at 'Kaasan, he settled to a seat beside her. That was a little too much of a coincidence to suit him.

'Kaasan laughed and put her arm around his shoulders. It was new to him. He rested his head on her shoulder without quite realizing it, listening to her heartbeat as she told the story. She'd just begun the part where the young prince was breaking into the onis' castle when he felt sleep tugging at his eyes. He struggled to resist, stifling a yawn. He wanted to know the ending to this one!

Tomorrow . . . he silently promised himself as he found sleep was winning the battle. He reminded himself to ask 'Kaasan to finish the story tomorrow night as his eyes drifted shut and sleep claimed its prize.

Shiori looked down at her four-year-old son and smiled. He was such a strange one, this child of hers. So suspicious and wary of everything when he was awake, so innocent and trusting when asleep . . . She tucked him in gently and smiled when he didn't wake. She set Inako-chan, his precious stuffed fox toy, next to him. The boy immediately snatched it close and snuggled up to it, his face half buried in it.

Shiori brushed a lock of his hair back gently. It was getting long; she'd have to take him to the barber tomorrow. He'd fight her tooth and toenail on it, she knew. He always did. If anything ever happened to her, she was sure the first thing he'd do would be grow his hair out long. She smiled at that thought and tenderly kissed his forehead.

"Anata," her husband called softly from the door. "Is he asleep?" He entered the room softly, putting an arm around her shoulders. Shiori nodded, smiling.

"Take him to the barber tomorrow?" she asked. "I've got a treat for him if he behaves, you can tell him."

"Oh?" her husband asked softly. Shiori smiled and picked up the book.

"He fell asleep halfway through," she explained. Her husband laughed softly and led her out of the room, turning the lights off and quietly closing the door.

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