Absently petting the top of Spark's head, Inari sat cross-legged on the couch with coursework in hand. The student apartment buildings were mostly underground here in the valley, something Inari tried very hard to forget. Not that it was easy with the apparent lack of windows, but the enchanted picture frames with nondescript landscapes that changed subtly overtime did help in an odd way. It was better than being above ground at the moment though, the campus was bitterly cold to them, and the gloom was only partially chased away by the lanterns.

A turn of the page and Spark's ears perked with the sound before opening groggy eyes. The spectrefox gave the offending object a baleful glare before huffing and settling in again. Inari snorted and silently agreed. The particular subject was rather dry, and there was just this pervasive sense of monotony and boredom to the whole of it. Stretching their back, they looked at the ceiling of the apartment and sighed. Closing the book, they reached over for a notebook instead, one that had little to do with school at all, but something that had been taking up more and more of Inari's thoughts lately. Opening it, there was a T-chart in their scratchy handwriting, one side pro's, the other side cons. The con's side was... surprisingly short. And mostly just questions rather than true negatives. All of which pretty much circled the points of 'am I ready' and 'how will I know what to do'.

The notebook had old coursework and pamphlets tucked in its pages, stuff like So You Want to Imbue a Stone: What You'll Need to Know and information from both sociology and health classes, probably two years old now. At the time they barely seemed relevant to their life, but now they were fairly grateful the topic had at least been introduced during their Academy years.

So much information, so many thoughts, and yet none of it really gave the full answer. It was still comforting to know that if Inari did decide to do this there was support. Information on how to enroll a kid into the Academy. What the imbuing process looked like. What to expect. Places to go to for help if needed. Who to contact. Endless pages of information on what being a parent could look like. Stuff Inari had been gathering for quite awhile now. There was also always the option to imbue and hold off on awakening.

Too many thoughts. Inari flipped back to the first page again and read the lists on either side. How would they know what to do? Well, no one knew perfectly what to do. That's what all of this stuff was for. Guides. How to find answers, because the Nine knew there was no way to predict everything that could possibly come up for a parent. So... it came down to just knowing you wanted them, and would love them, and you were ready.

Touching the ink of the pro's column, how the space had run out and some were doubled up, written sideways, or even bled over onto the other column's side at the bottom in need of the extra space. Someone to love. To help someone grow. To share life with. Family. Warmth. Laughter. Good days and bad days, all shared. To give life meaning. And a whole bunch of others, and even some there wasn't quite words to express what they were feeling. For a moment they closed their eyes and leaned back into the couch, overwhelmed. Tried to imagine what a day would look like, and got flashes of a whole entire life instead.

"Hey I'm home!"
The sound of the apartment door slamming shut and a schoolbag hitting the floor, footsteps and a child they couldn't quite see stepping into the tiny kitchen. Maybe with some paper in hand, some school thing, or maybe nothing at all. Maybe a hug, or just a smile. Or a question. A sense of family.

Waking up, exhausted, tired down to the very soul, and with good reason as a baby's cry echoes off the walls. Fumbling out of the bed to reach the cradle, lifting the little life wrapped up there. Trying desperately to sooth the cries, tired hands offering comfort along the impossibly small back. Knowing that tomorrow would be more of the same, but not wanting to trade it for anything because these moments would rush by so fast.

Yelling, the walls shaking with it. The angry stomps of a teen, words hurled in hurt and anger, in the sense of being completely alone. Knowing that they'd been where their little one now was. Wanting desperately to both show that no, they're not alone, and yet help them see what's right. Wanting them to be happy, and hurting that they're hurting. Anger turning to tears of frustration, feeling lost, long talks and trying to reach back out to each other. Finding that sense of family again. Knowing that the storm would pass.

Looking at the crystalline planes. Flat, hard spikes, of unknown colors, belaying the warmth contained within. Exhausted from the amount of magic and effort, but here, in hand, the most visceral reward possible. Love, pride, fear, hope. A deep sense of wanting. Knowing that in just a few short days, a touch of bare fingertips would cause the stone to flair to life.

Imagining, in this moment, with Spark on one side, and a child, unknown to them now, climbing up the couch on the other to sit there with perhaps a coloring book in hand. curled up into their other side, for comfort and for warmth. A sense of feeling whole, complete, and this is what life is for.

And for a moment, it hurt to breathe. Spark whined in concern as Inari's hands shook, reaching out to touch something that wasn't there. Feeling, instead, a profound sense of loss and the worn fabric of the couch cushion. Fighting back tears, they tried to speak, but the sound was raspy and felt so entirely out of place in the quiet air.

"Well... I guess that answered the other question..."