Shuichi Minamino often felt like a liar. And his lies were so good, that they would read well like a fairytale. But lies on top of lies had a way of deteriorating the mind – his spiritual state of being. Their spiritual state of being. Every sport, challenge, and obstacle he excelled at, but he couldn't determine if he, Shuichi, was just that good or if it were the thousands of years that pumped his blood. His existence was a singular high note that broke glass, but he chose to remain quiet. Because there was no one who could figure it out in the lonely stare he gave his text books. Or how he dully accepted all of his high marks and praise in class.
"Good job!"
"You're so smart!"
"So what's it like being at the top of your class and handsome?"
"I'm so proud of you, Shuichi!"
He thought he was simply selfish, ungrateful for not being moved by praise. But now that he was closing in his last year of high school, he accepted that he wasn't entirely happy. And that was ok. And he was not broken for not feeling the same as others.
Because his being was extraordinary. His lie was only told in fairytales, but there wasn't a man or woman that could kiss away what lived inside of him.
"Your mother is in the hospital."
"It's not looking too good, Shuichi."
And he was valid because good grades didn't save lives. Being good at everything didn't fix Shiori, his mother, that woman. All of the potential to do and be great was like a book collecting dust in a library.
Shuichi drug himself home early. Without giving a notice to his study group– Why bother? He had bigger things on his mind and he knew the answers better than the lines in his hands. He buried his fists in his pockets, with his eyes directly ahead. He didn't want Shiori to die and he didn't like when his other half separated her from his psyche as if she wasn't an extension of him.
The walk home was different, and it had little to do with his sadness. Someone was watching him. Someone had been watching him all day. He could sense a power that could be malicious, but it was soft in its potency. And the closest thing he could compare it to was the smell of blood in a field of flowers.
Shuichi slowed his pace. His eyes darting over all the nodding heads that moved past him. He turned a corner into an alley way. Urging the presence to follow his shadow. Preparing himself for whatever anomaly would present itself. This was the lie that wrote itself in fiction and pop culture.
Shuichi Minamino could exist in two places at the same time.
"Kurama."
He had yet to adjust to that name. It rattled in his head his entire life, but actually hearing it outside of his body was stranger than his first kiss with Maya. Hiei shed himself. Sliding down the rooftop, and slinking over a fire escape.
"Hiei?" Shuichi sniffed. Wondering if he would ever get used to hearing Kurama.
"Shiori is sick. Right?" Hiei lacked taste and tact. It made Shuichi cringe.
"She is."
Their silence was filled up with police sirens and cars zipping down the streets. Gossiping high school girls and perverted thugs that hung out at the corners of traffic.
"I have a proposition," Hiei had some nerve. It had been a while since they had spoken to each other. But Shuichi hid his disdain with a straight face. Hiei propelled himself down and landed in front of Shuichi.
"Is it illegal?"
"Not if you like playing the villain..."
"Then no...I have no desire..." Finals were coming up anyway.
"It could benefit you and Shiori."
The absent thought of what Hiei did in his spare time when he wasn't scheming or being selfish presented itself...
A/N: I don't know what I'm doing. I guess one could file this as an AU.