The Celestial Tiger's Notes: There are a million character profiles for Kurama out there and all of them describe his personality in roughly the same way…that his human personality is very different from what it was when he was wholly demon because he now has a human heart, but he is still affected at times by the tendencies of his former nature. Also, we all know that he was supposedly a not so nice child until he had a turning point at age 6 when his mother saved his life in a kitchen incident and that he started to soften after that. That's about all you ever hear regarding his human childhood…at least, it's all the information that I've been able to get hold of. It's very generalized and it just isn't sufficient to explain why Kurama harbored such guilt over his mother's failing health in the Mirror of Forlorn Hope incident.

After hearing the dialogue between Kurama and Yusuke regarding Kurama's past with his human mother, I began to wonder exactly how he was when he was a child. The way he described it, he felt as if he caused his mother's illness through his childhood behavior. That tells me that he must have been horrible to her. And even if he started to turn around at the age of 6, I'm sure it was still pretty rocky for another few years as he was making the transition into the sweeter human that we all know and love.

I'm probably somewhat off base with this, but this is my take of Kurama's human childhood. It only makes sense that it would have been pretty rough to be responsible for his mother's illness so many years later. After all, it takes long-term serious stress to wear somebody to that point. Even if he had softened up for a good while before her illness manifested itself, many years of prior emotional abuse could have caused that latent condition. That would be the only logical reason for his guilt. A mere few harsh words wouldn't have done anything. I'm convinced that it had to have been far more serious.

Lastly, I have no clue when Shiori's first husband was supposed to have left or died, or even which of those scenarios was the case. I can only guess, since I've found no information on him in my research. For the purposes of this story, I'm going to use creative license and make something up. If anybody knows for certain though, please tell me! I hate to get plot wrong if it's really out there somewhere. In fact, if anybody has any additional info on Kurama's childhood, I would love to know it! I feel that I can't do an accurate character depiction without all of the available details and I can only do so much having not seen all of the show. Ok, I've prattled enough…sorry!

He was gravely injured and he was still being pursued. His energy was waning, his life ebbing. His instincts screamed for survival. Only an act of desperation would save him now. But by chance, an opportunity presented itself…his last hope, as debase as it was, and he took it. His last conscious thoughts were of his need to pass into dormancy to conserve what little of his life energy he had left. All other ramifications seemed inconsequential at the time. After all, anything was preferable to death…but it was the 'anything' that Youko Kurama would have to deal with when he awoke again.

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He had flashes of awareness. It was dark but warm. He was surrounded by liquid. The rhythm of a heartbeat reverberated ceaselessly around him. He was confined but safe. His energy was so very low but he was at least alive and given time, he could heal. In a human body, it could take well over 10 years before he was strong enough to shed this disgraceful refuge, but he could be patient. What was a mere decade or so to someone as old as he?

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As time passed, his awareness increased. His surroundings were so strange and the feel of this new body…it was horrid. His frailty was tangible. Helplessness was not a feeling that he was accustomed to and he loathed it. Worst of all, the essence of this detestable little creature was not solely his. Some semblance of a human spirit still seemed to remain intact within it, a presence that he could not drive out. He vowed to dominate it. It was so weak and undeveloped. He was certain that as his spirit healed and grew stronger, he could claim this body as his. That would be the first step toward regaining his freedom.

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He grew weary of his imprisonment within this human female's womb. Humans carried their young so much longer than demons. Such weak creatures…they required extended development and still they emerged completely fragile and vulnerable. How much longer would he have to wait to at least see light again? He grew extremely resentful and restless, at times kicking and moving as much as his feeble unborn body would allow. He could only hope that he was causing as much discomfort as he felt.

"The baby's moving again!" Shiori cooed, placing her hand over the spot that was being kicked. She was at lunch with two of her friends and they immediately reached to feel. Shiori laughed lightly. "He's so active, I'm beginning to wonder if he ever sleeps in there! At least I know he's healthy, with energy like that!" Her friends laughed, their eyes sparkling with delight at the feel of the little life beating against their hands. They couldn't wait for the day that they could finally hold the baby in their arms. But no one was as eager as Shiori. She was radiant and full of joy.

---

Youko began to wonder if he had made a grievous mistake. Normally he had unparalleled patience, but he thought he might go mad if he remained trapped like this for much longer. He was a fox demon…his spirit required and demanded freedom. Despite his occupation as a thief, he had avoided incarceration his entire life. Now he had confined himself to this prison by his own choice! But there was no other option at the time and he knew it. For the sake of the preservation of his life, he had no choice but to endure this.

---

Something was odd. Something felt different. Normally, any change would have been welcomed considering how mind-numbingly monotonous his existence inside this damned human womb was. The only thing that seemed to change at all was his wretched body, which grew bigger as the space that he occupied grew tighter. However, now that something was different, he had a feeling that it was going to be unpleasant.

Tremors began to threaten. His surroundings were shifting slightly. It wasn't too worrisome at first but as time went by, the tremors became more severe. The human woman was in labor, he realized. At last, he was going to enter this new life of his and escape this detestable purgatory.

After some time, the warm liquid that housed him suddenly rushed away from him, leaving him feeling exposed and unprotected from the walls of flesh that closed in around him. Pressure surrounded him and caused him great discomfort. Everything was so tight. He would have been greatly angered but he was so relieved to be getting out that he resolved to bear the distress to this new frail body.

Just when he thought that the pressure might crush his skull, he felt cold air on the top of his head. Moments later, he felt it on his face. After a slippery rush of a feeling, his entire body was wracked with what felt like freezing air. He involuntarily shivered violently, but he soon felt cloth cover him and he was passed from one filthy human to the next as they began to perform their afterbirth rituals on him.

He was horrified to find that his senses were very much clouded. He could see no more than very unclear shapes, he could barely smell anything, and his hearing was so limited that he wondered how humans managed to survive at all. He could only hope that his senses would develop more as this body aged.

His thoughts were interrupted when someone shoved a rod in his mouth and caused him to gag a bit. He struggled against the repulsive human hands that touched him, but he refused to make any noises. There seemed to be an innate human instinct somewhere within his body to cry out but he fought it with all of his will. This was demeaning enough without giving into some debase urge to scream for no reason.

After being cleaned, poked, prodded and otherwise manhandled, he was finally wrapped up securely and placed into the arms of the woman who had served as his host. He refused to even consider the term 'mother.' That would imply a relationship between them that did not exist.

He didn't need to see, however, to know that the human woman who held him was smiling at him. He could hear it in her voice. She was pleased as she looked upon him. "My beautiful son…my little Shuuichi," he heard her say. He wanted to correct her, to tell her that he was not her little anything, but this body was incapable of speech for the time being. To his horror, what came out was a tiny sound that resembled a coo.

"He's such a quiet little baby. No crying at all," a nearby nurse remarked. She hovered over him and grinned. "He's gorgeous, Mrs. Minamino."

Shiori beamed. "Thank you!"

Youko wanted to cringe. He had never been embarrassed before in his entire life but this was humiliating. He tried his best to focus his weak human eyes on the face that was before him so that he could direct his scorn at it, but it was no use. It was like looking through filthy glass. The best he could make out was a giant fleshy blob.

Another nearby nurse chuckled. "He's looking at you so attentively," she said to Shiori. "How sweet!"

Shiori made a content noise. "He's absolutely amazing," she whispered in awe. Then she kissed his head.

That was all he could take. He felt defiled. He began to flail as violently as he could, only able to grunt his displeasure.

The nurse just smiled. "I think that's a good sign that we need to get him to the nursery. Once you're in your room and you've rested some, we'll bring him back to you." Shiori nodded and handed her baby to the nurse.

Youko only struggled more. This was intolerable! The worst part was that some aspect of his miserable human heart felt drawn to want to stay with its mother. Damn this body and damn all of these humans, he thought. But he had to remember why he was here…to hide…and to heal.

He suddenly felt very tired. His eyes threatened to close despite his best efforts to keep them open. This body wore out entirely too easily. He hated the thought of sleeping in the presence of enemies, but he had no choice. And if this brief time was any indication of what life as a human would be like, he was in for hell. Worst of all, he was helpless to do anything about it. With that, his eyes closed and all went dark and quiet for a while.