Artificial Sweetener
Okay, most of you who read the summary are probably like, "OMG!11!! WTF?!?1#/? SHISHIO X KENSHIN?!?!! WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU?1!?"
First of all, calm down. Second of all, this is an AU, folks. So Shishio is NOT, I repeat, NOT crispy. This takes place in a highschool setting, with a bunch'a RK characters. And let me say, I'm quite proud of myself for this. I haven't found a single Shishio x Kenshin fic out there, AU or no, and if mine is truly the first, then go me.
Different good, folks.
In this fic, Shishio will go by "Makoto" and Kenshin by "Shinta". Just thought you'd like to know.
LET US BEGIN!
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Chapter One
School was a bore to Makoto.
He made straight As, all of his teachers liked him, he was fawned over by half of the girls in the school... And he hated all of it. It was a waste of time to him; there was no point to it all. He made the highest marks in the place, and was excellent at all the sports that they offered. It got boring after a while, being good at it all.
Not that anyone noticed or cared. From cheerleaders to loners, he was desired. He was well-built, with smooth, pale skin and smoldering crimson eyes. His hair, which was an inky black, reached his shoulders and was always in a loose ponytail, one or two strands occasionally falling into his eyes. He was the silent, mysterious, brooding type that girls went nuts for, and his natural athletic and academic skill made him even more desirable.
But it didn't matter to him.
Makoto was not interested in girls, or the sports games he played, or the tests he took. In fact, Makoto wasn't interested in much at all. He liked to be by himself and ponder over things, he liked to watch horror movies simply because he loved the violence. Makoto was everything they wanted, and everything that they would never understand.
He had few true friends in the school. Sure, he had minor aquaintences who he really didn't give a damn about and his many admirers, but few real friends.
There was Soujiro, a freshman who was always smiling. Since the day he had met the boy (Soujiro lived next door to him), he'd been baffled by his constant happy-go-lucky demeanor. Never, in the six years of knowing him, had Makoto ever seen Soujiro without a smile. The boy never cried, never frowned, and never complained. He didn't understand it at all. But that was okay.
Makoto liked what he didn't understand.
Soujiro was on the track team, and the fastest runner up there. He wanted to be in the Olympics one day, he'd told the crimson-eyed senior, and become famous. Makoto hadn't responded, he'd simply smiled. There was no use responding. They both knew that the smiling boy could do it if he wanted.
Then there was Kamatari. Kamatari was a pretty, feminine boy who was known through-put the school for being openly gay. He'd been teased terribly up until his senior year. Makoto had witnessed the teasing first hand and, tired of such close-minded people disrupting his concentration, had defended Kamatari. They stopped immediately after that.
No one messed with Shishio Makoto.
Kamatari had stuck to him like glue after that and Makoto had allowed it. He found the pretty boy entertaining and, at times, fun to be around. It was obvious that Kamatari had a thing for him, though he'd never said anything about it. It was obvious.
Then, Aoshi and Saitou. They weren't so much his friends as they were his partners. They were on all the same sports teams, and the best players. They respected each other and, when push came to shove, even defended each other at times, though it was rarely nessecary. They were the bad-asses of the school, seniors and prepared to fight.
Finally, there was Yumi. She was the only girl in the entire school who hadn't even gave him a second glance, and he'd liked that. They were in most of the same classes and had been paired together for a project. The two had quickly found they had a lot in common and began to see each other in a new light.
They'd dated for one year before breaking up. There had been many reasons for why. They felt more comfortable as friends, it wasn't working out...
And then there was the fact that Makoto had realized he was bisexual.
He hadn't been to surprised. He'd always been attracted to boys just as he'd been attracted to girls. Yumi hadn't been surprised either, or angry. In fact, she'd supported it, telling him that he should explore his sexuality. That was so Yumi. So understanding, so good to him... Perhaps that was why he'd felt so bad the week after he'd broken up with her.
But it was fine now. They were friends, they still hung out, and he was glad. The few friends he had were more than enough; he didn't need anymore. He was content with his grades, his abilities and his friends.
And yet he always felt so empty.
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History had always been his favorite subject. He loved to learn about the past, about the wars that had taken place. He especially loved reading about the Holocaust, and many other violent, sickening studies. Makoto lived for gore and violence. That was why he watched horror movies. He had yet to see a horror movie that had scared him and not amused him. There was something about the screaming, the blood shed, the sounds... It excited him.
Yes, Makoto was very strange. It wasn't like anyone cared, though.
History that day, though, was about something he didn't care about. There was no fighting, no death, nothing that interested him. So, naturally, he simply did not pay attention. He didn't need to. He'd already read the entire History book, he already knew that he would pass the test. What was the point?
He toyed boredly with a piece of his dark hair, doodling a man killing another man with a sword. He smirked faintly, drawing dark grey blood squirting from the victim's gaping wound. He frowned, though, as he noticed that note that had somehow found it's way upon his desk. He reached over, carefully opening it. The teacher was writing on the board, back facing the class, and he took the opportunity to read the note.
'Have you heard about the new kid that just transferred here?
I saw him! He's so cute!'
Makoto snorted slightly, rolling his eyes as he glanced over at Kamatari who sat across from him, a sweet smile playing at his cherry lips. Makoto folded the note up as the teacher turned back around and placed it into his pocket. He shook his head to the other boy, indicating he did not know of the new student and Kamatari looked dissapointed.
The class continued for about ten minutes before the principle opened the door, poking his chubby face in. He called the teacher out of the classroom and, of course, everyone began talking.
"Ohhh, wait until you see him!" Kamatari exclaimed, getting out of his chair to stand beside Makoto's. "He's absolutely adorable! Edible, even!"
"The edible edible or the kinky edible?" Makoto asked teasingly and Kamatari stuck out his tounge at him.
"Which one do you think? Smart ass!"
A single raven brow shot upward. "And just why have you been looking at my ass?"
Kamatari giggled and winked. "Because it's just as edible as that new kid is!"
Makoto chuckled and the door opened again. Students rushed back to their seats, silencing immediately. The teacher walked in, but this time, not alone. There was someone behind her.
It was a boy, at least Makoto figured it was a boy. He was a tiny thing, and rather frail looking, which a feminine air to him, much like Kamatari. His hair was long, falling down his back and into his eyes, and a deep crimson color. Makoto found himself smiling at that. Crimson just happened to be his favorite color... like blood.
The boy's skin was about as pale as his and unmarred, save the cross-shaped scar upon his cheek. The scar only added to Makoto's curiosity. His eyes were large and sparkling, a beautiful violet color that Makoto had never seen before. His breath caught in his throat and crimson eyes widened.
This boy was different...
And Makoto liked different.
"That's him!" Kamatari hissed, hardly able to contain his excitement. "That's the new boy!"
"Class," the teacher said, hushing the curious murmurs of her students. "It seems we have a new student. Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Himura Shinta."
"Konnichiwa, Himura-kun," the class greeted in unison, all except Makoto, who was mesmerized by the boy's odd, red hair. The boy was obviously Japanese, at least he looked it. Perhaps his mother or father was American... It wasn't normal for a japanese person to have hair that color...
"Konnichiwa, minna-san," Himura responded, blushing. His voice was soft, but obviously male and there was no odd accent that Makoto could detect.
"I expect you all will make Himura-san feel very welcome," the teacher said, smiling. "Himura-san, why don't you sit right there? In front of Shishio-san. Shishio-san, raise your hand."
His hand shot up immediately and Himura blushed, walking over to the seat. He sat down, obviously attempting to ignore the dark-haired boy's piercing gaze, and set down his books next to his desk.
"You'll be given your books and assigned your locker tomorrow," the teacher said kindly and Himura smiled.
"Arigatou."
Class continued, but Makoto hardly noticed. His eyes stayed on the back of Himura's head, his fingers twitching, eager to touch the crimson locks. He glanced down briefly, catching sight of another note and frowned. Opening it, he read it.
'Oi! What are you trying to do? Burn holes in the back of his head?'
He looked up and glared at his friend, who smiled sweetly. He then folded up the note, placing it in his pocket with the other one, glancing up at the clock. Just as he did, the bell rang and students hurriedly began packing up their things. Kamatari was the first one out of the classroom, as always. Makoto quickly followed suit in packing, momentarily forgetting the red head that sat in front of him until a soft voice reached his ears.
"Sumimasen... Shishio-kun?"
Makoto looked up, and crimson eyes met violet. Himura smiled shyly, clutching his bag to his chest.
"Ano... I'm kind of not sure where my next class is..."
"Well, that's not my problem, now is it?" Makoto responded nonchalantly and stood up. Wether the boy was interesting or not, he wasn't going to play baby-sitter.
"Iie, I suppose it isn't..." The red head paused and then added, "but it's just this one class I can't find... Biology..."
Makoto tensed and looked at him, crimson eyes narrowing. The red head seemed undithered by the look, staring up at him with an innocent gaze. Makoto frowned.
"That's where I'm going now," he murmured, sighing. "Fine. Whatever. Come on."
He started walking and Himura quickly followed, a bright smile upon his face.
"Arigatou!" He chirped and Makoto cast him a bored, but warning look.
"Don't do that."
Himura immediately went serious and nodded. "Hai."