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He caught the computer off guard with a few rapid clicks of the mouse, the machine revolting against him with agonizing slowness as it loaded. Shuichi Hatanaka sighed, his fingers drumming a hurried tune against the wood of the computer desk as he waited.
It was early morning, the sun barely sliding over the edge of the horizon like a big ball of butter down a hot pancake, and yet Shuichi was already awake. His brown hair was mussed, his eyes swollen from sleep. He was wrapped in a thick blanket and seated in front of the computer in the family room. The game he played cast a greenish glow across his face, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth like a madman as he leaned forward in both anticipation and annoyance, again clicking hurriedly on the mouse as he willed his character to strike faster against the ugly green lizards.
He barely noticed the movement across the window, ignoring it as he focused on the game. A few seconds later, however, he heard a rustling noise outside the pane of glass, followed by a soft tap against the front door. Shuichi reluctantly looked at his game (which was now frozen), and then at the hallway which led to the entryway. With a great sigh he stood slowly, his blanket dropping from him as he walked hesitantly out of the room to stand in front of the wooden door.
He really didn't know what was in front of his house---whether it was a prankster, an animal, or maybe just be his imagination, coming to run away with him again as it had been known to do rather frequently. Whatever it was, it provided a minor escape from the humdrum of normal, everyday life, so he stood waiting, debating with himself of whether he should open the door or wait for the noise to continue.
It decided for him with an abruptness that made Shuichi jump slightly as a piece of paper slid through the mail slot to land at his feet. His hand rested on the handle, intent on confronting the intruder (for it wasn't the mailman; it was Sunday), when he hesitated. He was suddenly nervous. He pressed his ear against the door. There was heavy ragged breathing, and then the sound of a nail dragging across the wood of the door. There was something about the breathing, some sort of predatory exhalation that awakened a dormant recognition within the boy. Then it was gone as a loud bang burst in his head, Shuichi falling unceremoniously on his butt from the reverberations the fist made against the door. There was a laugh, and suddenly, without really knowing how, Shuichi knew that it was gone.
He wobbled to his feet. Now that the danger had passed, he was becoming excited. True, he really couldn't explain what had just happened, and the Prey drive instinct that had awakened within him was hibernating once more, the rational part of his mind flinging the phrase "flight of fancy" at him. And yet, there was the piece of paper at his feet that proved that something really did happen, even though he really didn't know just what.
The hallway was dark, so with trembling fingers he held the note close to his eyes in order to make out the words carelessly strewn across the face of the white parchment. Your brother is a demon. It was typewritten, short, concise, and to the point. Shuuichi could appreciate that, as he was rather concise and to the point as well. Or as his father put it, blunt and tactless. But no matter, here was a note telling him that his older step-brother was a demon. Was it supposed to be taken adjectively, or literally?
Shuichi Minamino was a well-mannered young gentleman. He was smart, good-looking, and near perfect in everything he did. Was there something more to him, hidden beneath his genial appearance? Was there a monster inside?
Shuichi frowned, a dimple forming in his cheek. His tongue stuck out of his mouth again, as it always did when its owner was in deep thought. He sat down crossed-legged on the floor, as he contemplated if there was anything weird about his brother. Shuichi Minamino did have the uncanny ability to appear quietly out of nowhere, smiling slightly in amused silence as the younger Shuichi gave a start. He was fast too, as the older Shuichi more than once effortlessly dodged a blow aimed his way by his well-meaning brother. He also went on many long excursions, returning exhausted and bitter, a tightness behind the eyes that would always disappear as soon as their mother hugged him.
Come to think of it, Shiori was weird as well sometimes. He had once caught her reading an article about demons on the computer. She was flabbergasted when he asked her about it, and stumbled an answer that had something to do with accidentally visiting the site as she was searching for a cooking recipe. Shuichi lied a lot, though, and was pretty good at telling if other people were lying as well. He could tell that his step-mother was. Also, whenever the older Shuichi left, Shiori would excuse herself to the master bedroom on the pretense of a headache, blaming her allergies when she came out with red eyes and a blotchy face.
There was also that strange small man that Shuichi constantly saw, usually perched in a tree. He called the police once when he was alone, but the authorities found nothing. His brother had laughed, a little too loudly when told, humorously blaming all the sugar and caffeine that the younger Shuichi perpetually drank. He had even left a camera running at his window all night before, pointed at the stalker's favorite tree. The next morning, however, the camera was slashed in half. His father had been furious, going so far as to ground him from his games for a whole month when his brother stepped in and calmly stated he had destroyed it accidentally. Shuichi had been so relieved that he had forgotten to ask his brother as to why the camera was still at his window, in the same exact position he had left it, when it was broken in such a way that it should have moved. He would remember to ask now.
The rational part of his mind betrayed him yet again as it calmly explained to him that he was overreacting. It was just a prank, and the note shouldn't be taken seriously. Shuichi buzzed it away like an annoying bee, though. The rational part of his mind became offended, and decided to take the rest of the day off---It was rarely used anyway. In any case, it was Sunday, the computer hated him, and there was zilch on TV. Nothing would stop him from investigating.
Shuichi smiled as he thought of an old black and white show that he watched late at night sometimes. Shuichi Minamino, you gotta lotta 'splanin' to do.
This was going to be fun.
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Hi! Thank you for reading my story. I hope to have the 2nd chapter up soon. By the way, does anyone know if 'Shuichi' is the correct spelling? Or is it Shuiichi? Shuuichi, maybe?