Disclaimer: I own nothing, okay? I'm not making any money off of this so please do not sue me.
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Lonely Soul
By: ChaoticRainfall
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He is the cold-hearted rude one of the group; that is how it always has been, no matter where he was. Even in the Makai he was a loner by heart, that was the image that he had apparently created for himself as well as being a bloodthirsty thief since he had been dubbed the Forbidden Child and he had always lived up to that expectation that others pinned on him. He hated to admit it, however, but since he had been forced, so to say, by Koenma to join his Spirit Detectives – the Reikai Tentai – he had come to think of the other three as some sort of 'allies' even going as far to think of them as 'friends' in the rare moments.
He would never admit this aloud, however. It was not him. He can't understand why he can't bring himself to think of them as anything else even more (even that bumbling Kuwabara who was always trailing after his sister, Yukina) no matter how hard he tried. He felt as if he had someone to relate to, in some way. They all seemed to be at least a little lonely in their own painfully special way.
Yes, he too was a very lonesome soul, no matter how much he hated to admit it to himself in the secrecy of his own mind. He wished he could talk to his own sister, to let her know he was the brother she so longed to meet and talk to herself; to have some sort of human (or even demon) contact other than the usual fighting and blood shed.
But he could not remember how to put down the guards and walls and barriers he had constructed around his own heart and mind over the years of loneliness and coldness. When someone showed him even an ounce of kindness or happiness or even affection the instinct in the back of his mind would kick up and he would push them away. Oh, how he longed to have someone – yet not so close.
He had to guard himself, still from the emotional trauma that could come, after all... Right?
Pathetic he was in a way, being able to take any physical damage you could throw at him at your best and yet still flinching away at any possibility that might bring upon him emotional scars that would last forever, unseen on his frozen heart – for his mind to pick and prod at and make them bleed all over again in the sanctuary that was his barriers for such things.
Really, he realized, that he was just a little boy whimpering in the darkened corners of his mind waiting for someone to remind him how to break down those barriers and to love again. But could his frozen heart ever handle it...?
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Authoress' Notes: I really wrote this because it's kind of a crises I deal with myself, and I hope not many of you have this same problem. But for those of you who do relate to this. This goes out to you!