An ominous pair of faces dances above me as my 6-year-old self cowers at dad's side back in the church I grew up in. The visitors' white faces twist in belligerence, eyes shadowed, piercing in the obscurity of their towering heights, and cloaked in black.
"Demon," spits the woman.
"Such violence could only be found in the son of Satan himself," says the man.
"You should have disposed of him when you had the chance," states she.
"I assure you both that I knew the challenge set before me the moment I took him in," dad says calmly; I clutch his robe harder. "I expected him to be sought out by other demons, and in order to keep that from happening for as long as possible, locked away his true nature in Kurikara. Even then I obviously wasn't prepared enough once Gehenna became aware of his position."
"What, weren't prepared to die for him?" the woman prods.
"Raising this beast was always dangerous; how could you not be?" asks the man. He then turns his attention back down at me, his ghostly-white face bobbing atop his black, wispy cloak of a body. "It's no wonder. No wonder that your father died because of you. It's your fault he's dead."
His last word echoes in my subconscious mind. Dead, dead, dead...
And I'm no longer at dad's side, who's protected me and stuck up for me ever since I was born. I'm all alone, cowering as the faceless figures advance on me, more appearing on either side of the first two. They encompass me as I spin around, searching for an escape from their gaunt statures and malevolent expressions.
What I find is neither. Instead, their figures dissipate, and I'm not 6 years old anymore. I'm my current age, and standing in front of me is the crestfallen face of my younger brother.
"Dad is dead because of you!" Yukio shouts, tears welling in his eyes. He shakes his head in disbelief. "And you can't even face up to that."
"I didn't kill anyone!" I defend, though I know I'm horribly wrong.
"If it hadn't been for you, Satan wouldn't have been able to enter his body in the first place," Yukio says, his volume lowering to a mumble. "Someone like you... no... not someone... A monster like yourself shouldn't have been allowed anywhere near Father Fujimoto," he finishes defiantly. "A monster like you shouldn't even be alive, Rin."
Rays of moonlight blind me the moment my eyes snap open. It takes me a moment to assess my bearings from the vivid dream. Instinctively rubbing my forehead, I try to rid my head of the troubling dream images. My other arm drapes off the side of the bed and brushes against something cold that softly clanks.
Kurikara, the Koma Sword, I think, sighing with the other arm over my eyes. Even with only a slight brush of my fingers, I'm very aware of my demon tail twitching at the power I'm capable of residing within the sword. The subtle snore of the someone across the room causes me to jolt. Yukio...
In my dream, he'd called me a monster, told me I shouldn't even be alive.
Unfortunately, none of that was really a dream, was it? Yukio really said those things to me... Yukio really does blame me for what happened to Father Fujimoto... And that wasn't the only part that had been true... Even when I was little, the other kids and parents always called me a demon. I'd always get into fights and end up hospitalizing someone. I never meant to. I'd just lose control. Almost as if... I was being controlled by some hellish force...
I remove the arm from my face and watch the dark clouds glide by the moon out the window, filtering its white light from me. Ever since dad died, that's all anyone ever addresses me as anymore. I'm only a dangerous power to be contained; a threat to society; a weapon to be trained and used against Satan; a mistake that should have been murdered long ago. Most don't even give me the chance to prove myself as a human being; the demon in me is all they see.
I hadn't even known myself that I was a demon for fifteen years... If anyone should be hostile, it should be me. Don't I have warrant to be angry most of all? Except for the fact that the man who kept it from me all that time is now dead...
Dead... Satan's cognizant power had contorted dad's face the last minutes of his life, made him bleed, spew such ludicrous crap... How had Satan been able to control someone so strong-willed and strong-hearted? I know why, but I still can't bring myself to accept it... I know it hadn't been Father Fujimoto's strength that had failed him. It'd been his soul.
"DON'T EVER PRETEND TO BE MY FATHER AGAIN!"
My own words betray me, lingering in my brain far longer than I wish them to, silently festering there. Why did I have to say those hurtful things to him right before he died...? My eyes get blurry and itchy from tears, and I know if I stay I'll only wake up Yukio and get yelled at. I'm not getting back to sleep anytime soon. It's time to take a midnight walk.
What's wrong, Rin? Kuro asks curiously, coming behind me on the rooftop.
(As it turns out, I'm not allowed to leave the dorm due to the anti-demon protection spells around the place, – that I'd been informed of but completely forgotten about, – which prevent any demons from entering – and also, in this case, from escaping. Yukio and Mephisto had really meant it when they'd said I was to be kept under 24-hour surveillance.)
I'm the only one who could understand Kuro, not only with my pointed demon ears, but as a fellow demon converted to the lifestyle of humans too. "Just thinking," I reply.
Kuro plops down in front of me on the roof, his double tails ticking back and forth in question. About Father Fujimoto?
"Yeah."
Kuro and I sit there quietly for a little while, observing the increasing frequency of the clouds passing over the moon and the thrum of the city of True Cross Academy. Most of the students attending the school are normal people with normal lives, getting ready to venture into the world of business, science, medicine... And then there are the Exorcists like Yukio, who'd faced Temptaints or demons early in their lives and decided that they would help protect those who were normal with their knowledge of the demon world existing in the same world as theirs, except not the same at all.
"You know," I say hesitantly, Kuro's green-rimmed eyes setting back on me, "if it weren't for Father Fujimoto, neither of us would know what it's like."
He cocks his head to one side, ears perking up. What what's like?
"To have a family," I murmur.
Kuro turns back to the city. I agree.
And now that family has fallen apart, I think bitterly. Father Fujimoto is dead, and Yukio only thinks of me as a demon.
Hey, Rin. It's rare to see you so down, Kuro comments.
"Is it...?" I say, almost unknowingly.
Yeah. Kuro continues. You almost never say much about your past life with Father Fujimoto or anyone else around you, before you knew you were a demon... Most wouldn't be able to guess what you're thinking most of the time.
That raises a query for me. I lean over in Kuro's face, one finger pointed up and face strewn in processing thought. "Wait, since I'm a demon and can read your thoughts, does that mean that you can read mine since you're a demon too?"
Kuro's tails stop ticking from side to side. Actually, he stops moving altogether. No, he obviously lies.
"So you've been able to read my thoughts this entire time without me knowing it?!" I burst.
Quiet! You'll wake up everyone! Kuro barks – in spite of being more feline-like than canine-like.
"There's no one to wake up in this blasted building except Yukio!" I shout, standing with Kurikara in hand. "They don't trust me enough to put me in a dorm full of humans! Afraid I'll go off the handle and do something!"
I know, Rin, and it really sucks, Kuro says sympathetically albeit frantically, trying to calm me down.
"Damn right it sucks!" I yell, the Koma Sword suddenly alive and vibrating in my palm. "It's horrible! I HATE IT!"
My scream echoes back at me from all directions, and I notice the blue flames emanating from me. I drop the Koma Sword immediately, and it clutters on the roof. The flames around me dim, but do not disappear completely, and I stand in one place, shocked, as I realize the true silence of where we are, separated from all the other True Cross students, for the only other sound is from the bustle of the city. It really is just Yukio and I all the way out here, all for the sake of keeping an eye on me without endangering anyone else. Serves me right! my internal voice screams as I fall to the roof much like the Koma Sword, burying my face in my hands, my blue flames fully quelled. I lost control again! How could I be –? I stop myself, realizing personal thoughts aren't kept hidden anymore.
Rin, it's okay, Kuro tries to comfort, resting one paw on my leg. It's okay to lose control sometimes. It happens to everyone, demons and humans.
I stand again, getting him off of me. "No, that's where you're wrong," I counter. "Most humans don't worry if they're going to kill someone every waking second. Most humans aren't afraid of what they're capable of, of what they are..."
Kuro shakes his head. That's not entirely true.
"What do you mean it's 'not entirely true?!'" I shout furiously, clenching my fists. "No one else has to deal with being the bastard son of the devil, making everyone they know scared of them, or killing their own parent!"
Kuro shakes his head again. That's not what I meant. His green eyes focus on me and he simply says, No, not everyone is the son of the devil, nor are they kept confined in a special academy for students wanting to become Exorcists. What I meant was that everyone has things they aren't proud of. Everyone is afraid of something. Of losing something, someone, or even doing something they know will disappoint or hurt others.
I wait for the answer, but Kuro just stands there with his double tails flicking the air in anticipation. "...So what's your point?" I finally ask.
Kuro rolls his eyes.
"Sorry that I don't see the obvious!" I yell at him.
The point, Kuro interrupts, is that you're giving humans too much credit, when really they can be as bad or worse than demons. And the same goes for us. Demons can be as good as or better than humans on the grounds of morality. Kuro turns his back on me and lays on the roof, facing the city. Don't be so quick to go rank yourself next to Satan; it wasn't your choice to be a demon.
I understand completely what Kuro is saying, and although it helps ease some of the weight on my shoulders, it's nowhere near lifting all of it. "But... that still doesn't excuse what I did to Father Fujimoto," I say, my eyes drifting to the Koma Sword. "It's still my fault that he's dead... and everyone is still suspicious of me because of the 'demon label' I bear." My tail twitches with the tempting thought of releasing my demon power embedded within Kurikara. I want to punch myself with the very notion of unsheathing the sword in an area like this, where the other demons I'd draw in would easily wipe out the entire city of True Cross.
If people judge you because of your 'demon label,' that's their choice, Kuro says, his back still to me. That has nothing to do with you.
Nothing to do with me? Is he serious?!
Demon. The word has been repeated at me so many times, a constant repetition that maybe I ought to have gathered from the continuity of it. I was always getting called a demon for the fights I got into, which reminds of a time not too long ago.
I'd been walking through a more roundabout part of town to get back to the church, thinking of something important that I was going to tell Father Fujimoto. Now I can't even remember what that had been. I'd turned a corner to see a group of four guys huddled in a broken-down park of some kind, tormenting birds for fun. They plucked the birds' feathers, snapped their wings, legs ripped off or broken... I couldn't just walk away, ignore it and pretend I hadn't seen anything. I had been there, so I had to do something. I hadn't thought about the consequences or the outcome, and yelled "Stop that!" to the group of four.
"Oh yeah? What're you gonna do about it?" the white-blond, brow-pierced, and "leader" of the group had taunted, holding up one of the birds' mutilated bodies for me to see.
I'd turned my face away, the anger inside of me swelling out of proportion, though I'd done my best to keep myself under control. "Put those birds down," I threatened. "Or else."
"Or else what?" the same blond yelled, the other three laughing around him. "What, do you feel pity for them? Maybe because that's all you feel like." The leader held up the bird's body again and shook it, its feathers falling gently to the ground. "A helpless pigeon who can't do anything but get picked on."
At that point, I hadn't been able to contain my fury toward such cruel people any longer. I'd charged at them without a second thought, uncaring to how hard I threw my punches or how one of me intended to brawl against four of them. I guess none of it had mattered much anyway, because it only took about five minutes before I'd pummeled them good, and they'd scrammed with their tails between their legs – not without leaving a few dents in me too.
Before they'd gone, I'd heard one of them call, "He's a demon!" and my unprecedented shout back had been, "Who're you callin' a demon?! You guys are the real demons!"
Not before I'd left the scene, cursing myself for getting into yet another fight while I inspected the scrapes on my knuckles, aching all over the place, the flutter of wings had stirred my black hair, up into the sky. One of the birds had survived.
I hadn't seen it as much of a feat at the time, knowing I was in for another one of Father Fujimoto's lectures, but now as I think back, I wonder what broke my conviction from then. I'd said, "You guys are the real demons!" Even as my demon tail wiggles and demon ears hear Kuro's words now, – not to mention my demon fangs, – I wonder. (The fact I have a tail, pointed ears, and fangs is something that's pretty cool if I'm honest with myself. Sure, they're hard to hide from other people, – I have to wrap my tail around my chest during the school day, as none of the other True Cross Exorcists know what I truly am, – but I won't say that it doesn't make me feel like a superhero of some kind, having to hide my true identity and all. I am surprised no one's said anything about my ears or fangs, though.)
"I was always a good guy, even back then..." I say slowly to Kuro, though I know he's probably already heard and seen everything that I did in my mind just now. "I'll always carry the weight of Father Fujimoto's death with me," I mutter, more to myself. "But I can prevent more tragedies like that from happening again. Because I'm gonna beat the hell outta Satan!"
That's more like the Rin I know, Kuro hoots happily. Then he asks, So what are you going to do now?
I view the city of True Cross for one more moment, then bend over and retrieve Kurikara from the rooftop. "Go to bed."
I was expecting something more heroic... Kuro admits.
I sling Kurikara around one shoulder, going back the way I came. "Yeah, well I'm gonna hafta face Yukio's wrath tomorrow if I fall asleep in class again for the fifth day in a row, otherwise I would do something heroic. Night, Kuro."
Kuro doesn't say anything, but instead flicks his tails from side to side – just as I flick mine.
(Oh, and the next day, I did fall asleep in class and get a lecture from Yukio the entire class will surely remember.)
Hello, fans! This is my first Blue Exorcist fanfic, so I would like to know what you think of it! I know it was mostly just a drabble sorta deal, but I had fun writing it so that's all that matters, right?
I'm open to continuing this story in the future, so please let me know if you think that's a good idea!
Rin is seriously just one of my favorite characters of all time so I had to write something for him. ;~;