Work Text:
Karasuma's powers manifested early. As a child, she wept when her mother grieved; screamed in rage when her father returned from work, silent with frustration. She knew that her mother feared for her (was fearful of her) (couldn't tell the difference). She knew that her father looked upon her, and felt guilt, and shame.
They loved her, but their love gave Karasuma no peace.
Her grandmother was a warm presence, her Craft a balm to Karasuma's battered psyche. They spent long hours together, palm to palm, and Karasuma would never again be so happy as she was during long afternoons in grandmother's small kitchen.