FANDOM: Blue Exorcist/Ao no Exorcist
WORD COUNT:
893
WARNINGS:
Angst and strong language
DISCLAIMER:
I own…nothing. Not even my soul. Especially not that. I do, however, own a lot of feelings about a lot of characters that I'm not quite sure what to do with.
NOTES:
...Commas? ...Angst? Hurt without the comfort? I've got a good helping right here, step right up folks. It'll only cost you your soul. Or mine. I'm not keeping track. I nearly made this a tragedy, but the only tragedy here is my writing skills. Many disjointed sentences. Much cringe. Sorry for this…? I get feelings and it never turns out good when I get feelings. (DANA IF YOU READ THIS NO. QUESTIONS. I DON'T KNOW THE ANSWERS)
SOUNDTRACK: Mov F, i AM, eXORCIST, Piano Man, Move Along...just a lot of sad music, more or less.

EDIT 3/1/16: Fixed a few things


He wasn't sure who'd he see when he looked into the mirror. Himself, as he had always been? Or would he see monster pretending to be a human?

He already knew, without a doubt, that the latter was already true. Monsters killed people, and hadn't he? Was he not responsible for the death of his father? Of his and Yukio's father? Either way, he knew that no matter what he saw in the mirror, it would not be him as he had been. He would be a monster in human skin (but would the skin even be human?).

(How ironic, he thinks. All his life, he's fought tooth and nail against those who called him a demon. Maybe he should've listened to what they were saying.)

He already knew from that small glimpse he'd seen in the mirror as Satan (His father? No. A monster wearing his father's skin. Or his father wearing a human's skin? A choice, that's what it was. Both were his father. Only one mattered, though. Only one would ever matter to him. And only one would ever matter to them) dragged him to the Gate that he was not the same as he had been. Would never be the same.

He just wondered how hard it would be to pretend.

He had been trying so, so, hard, just to make his father proud, but he was as much as a screw-up there as he was at everything else, wasn't he? If only he was more like Yukio, more like the person his dad wanted to be, rather than the person he was.

Biting down and feeling sharp canines dig into his lip, Rin started low on the mirror. He saw his feet, looking as they had always been, simply there. Raising his eyes ever so slightly, Rin saw nothing...abnormal about the pants unless you counted the fact that they were part of a suit (And that there was blood on them. Dad's blood. Not his own. But why wasn't it his? He knew the old man had seen him, barely human even without drawing the sword, so why? A small part of his brain answers his pleas with a memory of its own. "Because this boy is my son. And I'm taking him back...!").

Rin had to force back a strangled sob as he saw what dangled just around his feet. He had missed it because he had been too focused on himself, too absorbed in his observations, to notice the glaringly obvious. A tail. A fucking tail. How could he even try to pretend when he had something like that dangling above (technically below) him like a flashing neon sign that read 'I Am Not Human'? He stared quietly at the new appendage as it slowly drooped to the ground. The pain in his lip increased, and he thought he felt something wet sliding down his cheek. His eyes burnt as though someone had poured acid into them (or a blue fire was burning in them the same way the fire had burnt the old man).

Rin felt his knees give out from under him and he allowed the feeling to take him to the ground. From his kneeling position on the wooden floorboard, Rin reached his hand around so as to grab the newly acquired limb. As he brought it towards his face, Rin noticed something else from an accidental glance in the mirror.

Allowing the forgotten tail to fall from his loose fingers, Rin finally saw everything else that had changed.

Quickly pressing himself up against the mirror, Rin gaped at his ears (pointed ears, demon ears) and from inside his mouth, he could make out fangs.

God.

He really was a monster.

Demon spawn.

Devil child.

Letting out a small, bitter laugh, Rin curled in on himself on the cool panelling of the wooden floor. The previously forgotten tail was brought to the forefront of his mind as it curled itself around Rin's prone position on the floor.

Choked sobs were forcing their way out of his mouth. Oh god. He was a monster. A demon (he hadn't even believed in demons that morning). He killed his father (and his father killed him). How could he face Yukio? (he wouldn't). How could he face anyone ever again? (he would pretend).

Questions, harsh, biting questions and their harsh, biting answers began to tear away at what little emotional stability Rin had left. The stifled sobs turned into full-blown tears, and Rin allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. There was no one around, no one awake, no one to see, so he could stop pretending for a moment...right? It was okay for the son of Satan to hurt, wasn't it? It was okay for him to stop pretending for a little bit longer, for him to cling to whatever humanity he had left...it was okay for him to pretend to be human, wasn't it?

He didn't know.

Before, when demons were just stories, he always knew who he wanted to be. Who everyone around him wanted him to be. But that was when he was human. He was a demon now, and a demon couldn't be a chef.

(But Rin Okumura could. That is still his name, isn't it?)

(Yes. He is Rin Okumura.)

(And Rin Okumura knows how to pretend.)