Dude so it's been way to long since I've taken pen-to-paper (figuratively, of course. I'm typing this) and I've decided to rewrite a fic that's been almost four years in the making!
&&Prologue
To be honest, he had imagined it quite differently. Their future, of course. It had been nicer, calmer, significantly longer. Well he could go ahead and let those dreams wash down the tubes.
Hadn't he told her he was going to marry her? Why couldn't she have believed him? Why did she have to doubt him? Why did she have to get impatient, get stupid, and get married?
The fan was on high, but even so the room was stifling. Yusuke lay on his back, above the comforter, on his bed. His eyes were heavily lidded – he was trying to get to sleep, but his mind wouldn't stop wandering. Wandering to her.
Stupid Keiko. Stupid Makai. Stupid everything.
He had freaking promised her! His eyebrows furrowed, and his fingers slowly curled into fists. He could recall the day with ease – when she had gotten so upset with him when she realized he'd be leaving for years. But he had told her! He'd told her that he'd come back, that he would marry her before their eighteenth birthdays. And he had certainly intended to. But Keiko – his Keiko – had beaten him to the alter. With some stupid college kid, sniveling but with some astronomically high IQ.
He rolled over, his skin mutely sticking to the pillow beneath his chin. It was so goddamn hot. Stupid summer. He closed his eyes. Stupid everything.
&&Koenma's eyes scanned the screen in front of him. A list of a half-dozen names, maybe more, scrolled idly while he sat in thought. Dyruko, eh? Have to call in the gang for this one...
He coughed, commenced reading. Dyruko, Tonnie, Nuber, Maro, Faerd. Then give or take a handful of humans. In Chicago, of all places. Didn't America have its own line of defense when it came to demons? Clearly not. The Prince rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then called for his Ogre.
&&
R&R!