Title: An Unoriginal Obituary
Author: Yoko-cw
Summary: Kurama Unwillingly Spends Time With The Demon He Thought He'd Killed...

~Kurama POV~
"He's here again. Breathing down my neck and staring through my skin, contemplating..."

No. That's not what I meant to write. I'd meant to be working on a report for my evening class, writing about the effect the work hours was having on the suicide rates in Tokyo. An unoriginal idea but...that's what I had pulled out of the box. So why had my fingers typed such an odd collection of words? I shook my head, backspacing madly before resting my eyes on the heels of my palms, just trying to breathe.

'Just breathe...you're fine...he's gone...'

The clock was ticking loudly. No wonder people switched to digital a decade ago. Old things were maddening, these little reminders of the past and how quickly time was going by.

Tick...tick...tick...

We're dying.

"Think you can forget so easily, pretty fox?"

I could hear my breathing echo in the room which had suddenly become freezing. Perspiration slicked my brow and I laughed, rubbing my throat to coax myself to breathe. 'I've been working to hard...that's all...like they're always telling me, lack of sleep will be my undoing...'

I went to turn the lamp off. Cold fingers wound around my wrist and tugged it so my fingers rested on my laptop.

"You can never forget me. I'll make sure of it."

After his death, the crows started nesting there. They were starting to bother me. Although, what really bothered me was the fact that I wasn't sure if those birds actually existed; no one ever mentioned them. So either they'd always been there, or...

"Afraid you're losing your mind? Poor fox. What's a boy to do?"

I snapped the lamp off too quickly. The whole thing fell the floor, shattered into a thousand sharp edges, glinting dangerously in the moonlight. I pushed my bangs away from my eyes.

Someone helped me.

"Yusuke," I murmured, "I should call Yusuke. He told me to call if I..."

"If you what," he whispered, "Felt you were losing it? Heard the little voice in your head who tells you the truth? It's only been twenty three years fox. Can't forget that easily. Although...your little friends have." He cackled, long arms winding around my shoulders while I kept looking ahead, trying to tell myself I just needed to sleep. I couldn't call them. The voice was right.

Karasu was right.

"Do you think yourself human, Kurama?" he said lightly, combing my hair with rotting fingers, "Think yourself to be someone who actually exists? Silly child. You don't exist."

I laughed, trying to breathe as I covered my ears. I walked across the room to sit on my bed, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes. I just needed to sleep...!

"You don't exist because you stole the human soul. You stole this life. You don't exist. Think you matter? Think that you're an original? You're nothing but a plagiarist."

"Shut up...!" It started out as a whisper but ripped through my voice as an agonized groaning cry. The rage was building in my chest and I could feel it trying to sear my insides.

"Tsk tsk," an bony finger waved back and forth in front of my eyes, "Can't get rid of me that easily. I've been here for quite some ...listening...waiting for this..."

He planned to destroy me...

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was no longer a member of the spirit detectives. I was an ordinary demon on probation, living the next ten years in demon world until I could escape and then it would all be over. It would all be over, right? I would forget that this human life ever happened, and they would forget me.

"People know exactly what you are, fox," hands wrapped around me, pulling me closer and squeezing the air from my lungs, "Those humans you think yourself so attatched to? Yes, they know. They know and they still look at you with leering eyes. Because they know. They will always know."

I closed my eyes, heat building in my pores.

"They know that you are a murderer..."

Of course they did. Because I told them. I told them and since that day their eyes stayed on me just a second longer after I entered a room. Their gazes would flicker from me to their cups of coffee when they asked me to help them with mediocre tasks like homework and lately, business figures. They used me as a go-to guide. An encyclopedia, of sorts. But, not a friend. No, not a friend, because to them, I was not even a person. I was a thing.

"They know that you are a fake..."

I could smell the fear on Kuwabarra after the incident with Amanuma. I noticed Yusuke moving away if I came to close. They had seen me kill without a second thought. They had seen my true form, my white hair and grinning expression when my plants ate my enemies alive. And Hiei? Hiei was simply disgusted. Because, while to humans, I was a demon...to the demons, I was a human. There really wasn't space for me anywhere.

"You can make it stop..."

Yes. I could. I could stop the looks I got from people who knew something was off about me but could never place it. The demons who attacked me for being a traitor. The humans with unusually high senses who knew I was a demon...the disgusted gaze focused on my face when they could feel the power radiating off me, buzzing in the air as I caressed the leaves of the plants that surrounded me. And I could stop the feeling I got when my stomach was heavy and my chest was hot and I knew I needed only to *kill* to get rid of it...

But humans didn't do that.

"End it...end it...end it..."

My hand slid across the smooth oak of my desk to caress the blade I kept there. "For emergencies," I murmured through numb lips. His violet eyes glowed liquid red as his hand covered mine, tracing the sharp edge of the slim dagger I'd purchased years ago. His fingers entwined with mine as I picked it up. It was heavier than I remembered.

I looked up at the mirror across the room, saw the rotting corpse who was helping me end my life. His hair was black and his skin a numb shade of grey. Shadows fell across his face, but I could make out the sharp teeth poking through his lower lip. I smiled back.

The blade slid cleanly through my heart. I felt the blood flow out, timed with my pulse in a macabre tune. We laughed together.

"Japanese student commits suicide," he whispered, cold lips brushing against my ear, "Not a very original obituary, is it?"

I smiled, swallowed the blood pooling in my mouth as I straightened the papers on my desk.

"No," I agreed, the edges of my vision fading to grey, looking at the two demons in the mirror. Black on white.

"Not original at all..."