Hello, this is parenthood, a crossover between KHR and Kuroshitsuji. The basic idea is in drabbles on how Fon grew up with Lau as his father and Ran-Mao as his mother. I may continue into his teenage years when I get motivated.
Wǒ ài nǐ, māmā hé bàba - I love you, mama and papa. That should answer most questions. Oh, and, changshan is the traditional Chinese clothing during the Kuroshitsuji era. Lau is often shown to wear one in green with some embroidery. Fon is often shown in a plain red one.
I don't own Katekyoushi or Kuroshitsuji. They rightfully belong to Amano-sensei and Tsobo-sensei. Let's begin.
i. new born
When Lau first held the bundle in his arms, his distaste was probably apparent. Was it because he knew he wasn't capable of being a father? Was it because this was proof he had probably taken things too far with Ran-Mao nine months ago? As a consequence, he held this….thing in his arms. But this was certainly not a thing. He had the common Chinese traits from the dark hair to the pale skin. This new born demanded a name. Without much of a thought, Lau was the one who had spoken. Fon, he said. It was a name chosen at random, but it was still a name.
Lau glanced at Fon, who was sleeping peacefully in his arms. Despite his distaste at becoming a father, Lau couldn't help but smile like the usual. He could pass down his trading company this way. Maybe raising this new born wouldn't be so bad after all. Who knew? Maybe he could be the one to raise China's future master martial artist.
ii. first steps
It was Lau who first saw his son walk. Ran-Mao may do the feeding, burping, changing, and bathing, but it was Lau who pestered her to do it. It was no surprise to everyone that it was Lau who first saw the youngster's first steps. It was actually quite expected. Fon was always checked on by his father, after all.
So Lau was now crouched down with outstretched arms. Come here, Fon. He bade, willing the young one into his arms. Shakily, the toddler took one step then took another. He fell by the time he took his third step, though Lau had caught his small son in his arms before he could reach the ground. Proudly, he said words of praise with a smile adorning his face. Later on, when his son was a little bit older, it would be a carbon copy of Lau's slight smile that often appeared on this growing boy's face.
iii. first words
His mother was, rather mindlessly, shaking her oriental decorative clubs above his head in an attempt to entertain him. Ran-Mao was not skilled at this task; she couldn't even display a single hint of affection towards this small being. Despite that, she actually did feel little affection towards this small being. So in an attempt to be motherly, Ran-Mao does the tasks she's required to do and she shakes one of her clubs like a rattle above his head.
But they are silent save for the light tingling of the bells; all the young boy reached out to and cooed at were the bright colors that were being waved above his crib. It was also at this moment that the small Chinese says "earl". Ran-Mao abruptly stops and glares down at the toddler. Was he calling for Earl Phantomhive? The woman, slightly disturbed, leaves the room. She later returns with Fon's father and directs him to the crib where the youngster says "earl" one more time.
Lau merely chuckles and picks his boy up. He's beginning to speak, he informs his so-called sister. It won't be long before he begins calling us bàba and māma , he explains further. Granted, it was only about a year ago when Lau had held this bundle as a new born in his arms. Now, in the present, Fon was at least a year old. He could walk already under his parents guidance, and now, he's beginning to speak. Oh, how time flies by.
Lau didn't mind having Fon hide under his changshan while he was discussing matters with the young Earl Phantomhive. So maybe the youngster was being naughty and was constantly shifting his position, but Lau couldn't help it. Fon was five. So he let the young one shift his position constantly and Lau would just go on discussing things without paying him any heed. He had begun speaking about the opium, until there was a certain distraction.
Fon lifted the hem of his father's changsan and peered at Earl Phantomhive. Ran-Mao tossed him a warning look, but he didn't retreat back into the green silk. Instead, he opens his mouth and asks: What's opium? Lau hushes him by placing a hand on his dark hair. The boy doesn't deserve to know about the in-demand drug as of now. Lau is clearly aware that he can't keep it a secret forever so he decides to tell him in the near future, when he is old enough to understand.
You'll learn in time. He tells his young one, giving him his signature slight smile. It's a sign of reassurance that he will learn whatever his father knows in the near future. Fon gives Lau a carbon copy of his smile and repeats his father's words. I'll learn in time.
v. little lau
It was Ran-Mao with her Chinese Ornamental clubs who first taught Fon how to battle. She taught him a few basics and sparred with him a few times, and the seven year old would be enthusiastic as he took his mother's lessons in. Ran-Mao, of course, taught him how to battle with weapons. It was from another one of his father's men that he learns the martial arts. Lau would watch them from time to time, making sure his son learned well or had his wounds attended to immediately. Lau would praise both his son and his worker from time to time too. He would disappear behind a door shortly after to attend to some of the Shanghai Mafia's needs or some other trading deals.
Fon would master his moves with his teacher day by day. I'll be good enough to beat you one day, the seven year old announced happily. The man couldn't help but wonder at how the little boy could mirror his father's slight smile perfectly. He was generally like a small version of Lau in every way-from his short hair to the smile and even in complexion. What he couldn't deny was he had eyes were open. They weren't as wide as Ran-Mao's but they certainly weren't as thin as paper slits as Lau's. His eyes were a reddish brown hue. The only other difference Fon had from Lau was in terms of clothing. Fon's changsan was always in a rich red hue while Lau was always in green.
Does that mean master has reddish brown eyes? The martial artist wondered to himself. There was always a matter of inheritance, and maybe this small boy answers his common question of what his master's eye color is.
vi. mapo doufu
The first time Fon has ever tasted Mapo Doufu was when he was having dinner with his father, his mother, and their other subordinates. One of his father's chef, Ling as she was named, served them some type of tofu that was all red. Fon took some into his mouth and instantly choked. It was really spicy and he can't really handle it at that time. Lau, being the loving father that he is, immediately gives Fon some water.
Are you alright? The Chinese trader asks his little boy. He little one nods and takes another one into his mouth. You don't need to eat it if you have to. He informs the young one. He didn't want to force him to take such a spicy meal at a young age if he couldn't handle it. He could order Ling to serve Fon some dumplings or fried rice, shall the little one asks.
Fon swallows the flaming tofu and gives his father a slight smile. I'll be fine. I rather like it. He tells the trader. His father still worries but Fon shoots it down by taking in another of the spicy tofu in and smiles with his mouth full before eventually coughing again. Quickly, he chews and swallows before taking in a glass of water. What's this called?
Mapo Doufu, Ran Mao replies, peacefully eating her share of the spicy tofu in peace. He could actually envy his parents and their subordinates. They haven't choked on their share of mapo doufu yet, compared to him. He takes another piece of the tofu between his chop sticks and was about to take it in until he pauses. I want to learn this recipe. He tells his father with a smile and takes the tofu piece in.
Lau isn't sure on which he should be more worried about. The fact his son is choking over his dinner or the fact that he has come to favor the flaming tofu over the fried rice and dumplings.
Lau never finds it a hassle to send Fon to bed. His young son was always obedient, calm, and serene even in the face of being scolded or being defeated during one of his sparring sessions with his mother. Fon was obedient; Fon was attentive. Fon was getting better at his martial arts, as Lau had noted.
That night, he slips into his son's room and sits by his bed. Lau contemplates over a few things as he ruffles his son's hair. He's taking a consideration of leaving England and sailing back to China to raise his boy a few years there. It wasn't that Fon didn't know all the traditions; his son was rather knowledgeable in them as he was raised in a Chinese environment ever since he was born. He was basically surrounded by Chinese people who followed the traditions of China strongly in Lau's household. The only culture shock experienced would be when his son would go outside and all the English children would be dressed in play suits while Fon would be dressed in the traditional Chinese clothing.
Lau begins to notice reddish brown eyes were trained upon him in question. Did I wake you up? He questioned, his hand not yet leaving his son's mop of dark hair. What're you thinking of? The small one questioned instead, curious to know what his father was thinking about. Despite Lau's slight smiles and care-free demeanor, Fon is as aware as much his mother was that the trader often had things in his mind.
China, Lau answers. I was thinking of China. He plants a quick, fleeting kiss on his son's cheek. One day, we may leave England and stay in China for a bit.
Is China different from England?
Yes, China is different from England. Lau removes himself from his son's bed and chooses instead to stand at the bedside, looking down at the small figure lying amidst the sheets and all the pillows. You may survive China. You were raised alongside Chinese traditions. He says as he turns to leave the room. Only in England. Fon says. Only in England. Lau repeated. Silence was draped then between the two as Lau made his way to the door. The trader pauses there, by the door. Wǒ ài nǐ, The trader says, breaking the silence before exiting his son's room.
The youngster remained awake under the faint glow of a single gas lamp. Despite the fact he was now alone and that his father and mother could not hear him, he gave an audible reply. Wǒ ài nǐ, māmā hé bàba.