clearandstrong: ([Bleach] Momo: Happy!)
[personal profile] clearandstrong
Title: Birthmark
Author: [ profile] davyn.
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Hinamori Momo
Prompt: 06 - Birthmark
Word Count: 342
Rating: PG
Summary: Muses on birthmarks?
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own bleach or any of its characters.

She had no idea why the little spot just behind and below her left knee fascinated her. It didn’t have any particular shape that she could identify. Sometimes she thought it might be a cat at other times a misshapen pear. The mark itself was just a few shades darker than her natural skin color and no bigger than her small fingers nail. Yet every time she washed her legs she found herself running her finger over the mark curiously.

A birthmark. That was what Toushirou’s grandmother had called it when she had shown it to her once before she had moved to Seireitei to begin her shinigami training. There hadn’t been too much information available to her past that, it was nothing evil. It hadn’t been a weird sign that she would die tragically young as a child. It was just a mark she had received when she had been born to her mother in the living world.

An impression on her skin that not even dying had taken away and it captivated her. It reminded her that once she had been something different, had been a child who ran and played and did child like things somewhere else, somewhere strange. Sometimes she had wondered what those games had been, but now that she was older she wasn’t as concerned with child like worries. Still though, she found herself glancing at it each day during her bath time.

Sometimes she thought it was because it reminded her that it wasn’t always this life that shaped them into what they were going to become. Sometimes she could even almost recall whatever it was that had happened to her, her little connection to her first life. But the prickling of her memories never stayed more than a moment before they fled back wherever it had gone the first time.

Her lips quirked and she splashed the soap off her skin that had been sliding down her leg. A birthmark. Just another reminder that not even death changed some things.

It amused her.
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