Story Title: Crystal Petals
Rating: 'K+' for angsty childhood.
Warnings: None, I guess.
A/N: This is a short snippet of a new story that I am writing, and have nearly completed, regarding Irita's back story. It isn't meant to be long, as this is only a small, minor flashback regarding Irita's thoughts after her parents are...well, no spoilers. I hope you guys enjoy this, as I know I will writing it, editing, and writing some more. Well, can't dawdle with rambling anymore. On with the story...flashback...story...flashback...oh, just get on with it already!
"I-Irita..." A voice hesitated. Irita peered around the door, curious to what her Mother would want at this time of the day. Usually, she would be cleaning or talking to her friends outside, not with her inside. She was quite shocked at her Mother, to say the least. After all, this was herself she was thinking about- she wasn't exactly the best child to spend time with. In fact, her Father had repeatedly told her she was annoying.
Thankfully for Irita, her Father was not there at that present moment in time. According to what she had overheard, her Father had gone on some kind of...meeting with a leader? She wasn't exactly sure who, but it sounded something like 'Gridori.' She never knew of that name. All that she knew was that it was important, and that he needed to leave right away.
Leaving Irita alone with her Mother.
"W-what is it, Okaa-sama? Do you need me to fetch something for you? Do you wish for me to cook a meal for you to eat?" Nezumi shook her head, much to the orange-haired girls complete and utter surprise.
Instead, she held up some kind of purple flower.
"Do you have any idea what this is called?" Irita shook her head, still in awe at the flowers curled-petals and unique beauty.
She knew it was a flower...
"It's called an Iris flower. It's only speculated, but rumour has it that it is a flower that once originated from the dangerous lower world- you know, the one barren of Akuto? Yes, that one. But the thing is, I believe it did come from down there. It's pretty, isn't it?" Irita nodded her head in agreement, still wondering how delicate a flower could really be. It looked like it could break as soon as it met the rough area of a palm, even that of one belonging to a child.
Secretly, Irita had been longing to stroke the petals, but was scared of the affecting outcomes if she dared. She was scared of what would happened to her if she dared to try. For when Irita dared to do something, she merely remembered what those outcomes were like. That was a lesson she had learned when she had tried to look at a book her Father had once read.
She had never tried to read again after that day.
"Would you like to keep it, Irita?" Her red eyes widened, as she rapidly looked back at her Mother. One because she was offering her something to keep of her own free will for once- but that was not the only reason. The main reason was that she was shocked, through-and-though, at what she saw when her eyes made contact with her maternal figure. She found that her Mother was smiling.
Smiling at her. Actually at her.
Shyly, Irita nodded. Nezumi passed the delicate flower to a younger generation, showing that she did hold some love for her daughter.
Those next three days were pure bliss as they took care of it. Giving it water, nurturing it...allowing the flower to grow and bloom even brighter and more beautiful with each passing hour. Smiling to each other...laughing with each other, having conversation with each other. It was heaven- like the place they lived in. And Irita could smile as well. She was allowed.
But when her Father came home those blissful three days later, she found that the water in the vase had suddenly turned ice-cold, and the light no longer shone through the windows as much any more.
The flower had died soon after.
A/N: This will be explained more in the actual story. This isn't meant to be long, and it is meant to be 'show, not tell' mainly because I have a limited time that I have set myself for this story. Hopefully you guys like this. :)