So this... I don't even know. What is this. I literally feel like I wrote this while intoxicated (which is impossible- I'm underage) but I actually really like this so I posted it. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did, no matter how messed up it is! Oh and this takes place just before the Kyoto arc in the manga, so everyone still kinda hates him.
Quick note- first person POV is Rin's letter, third person POV is the events that occurred. Shouldn't be too hard to get. It's kinda obvious.
I DON'T OWN BLUE EXORCIST!
Is there really a difference between dreams and reality? How can you be certain that your dreams aren't reality and that your reality isn't a dream?
This was a concept that always confused me. We always assume dreams are better than reality, but have we forgotten one vital fact? Within dreams, nightmares exist. This is a sad truth, and one I know only too well. Nightmares thrive inside this tortured shell that I have become.
Four months ago, I suffered from one of the most scarring experiences of my life. It was the most real thing I've ever encountered in this surreal world we live in.
Though only half awake, he could feel them. He could see and hear them as well. He was the ringleader, as always. Him, with the cockscomb haircut. It was always him. They walked with him, their eyes gleaming like hungry wolves as they looked him over.
What's going on?
Why can't I move?
Am I dreaming?
...is this real?
"He's so helpless. Some demon he is. I bet his dear daddy Satan is real proud of him." snorted Shima. Konekomaru snickered. Rin wanted desperately to ask what he meant, but he couldn't open his mouth or even move his lips. His whole body was tingling, as if an unseen someone was chanting his fatal verse.
Suguro stepped forward and roughly grabbed Rin's tail, which was curled securely around his waist. The young half-demon cried out in subconscious pain, his mouth opening for this sole purpose. The three of them stepped back muttering.
"Is he awake?" Shima asked cautiously.
"No. It's just a reflex." Konekomaru assured him.
"Whatever. Come on!" Bon growled at them both. Shima nodded in agreement and the three Arias in training advanced. Suguro never released his iron grip on the sensitive tail of their victim.
Looking back on it now, I know it was just an awful nightmare. Even so, I have never before been as scared as I was that night. They closed in on me, people I once thought were friends. Naked and devious, they pinned me down. Helpless, I could do nothing to protect myself as they brutally ravaged me.
Blood dripped down from a deep scrape on his forehead over his eyes. He couldn't see anymore, but this was for the best since he had no desire whatsoever to see what was causing the sharp, stabbing pain in his backside. Thick fingers tangled in his hair and the hot, foul pants in his ear told him all he needed to know. His face was pressed hard into the wooden boards of the floor. He still couldn't move, prone and paralyzed, whether from fear or something else he couldn't tell.
It seemed to never end,
Had it been minutes, hours, days, or weeks? He couldn't tell. He tried feebly to crawl away to safety, under the bed from which he had fallen, but the rough and calloused hand that gripped his tail squeezed and yanked.
"We're not done with you yet, Okumura." A voice purred in his ear, chuckling horridly.
"Please..." He croaked. "Stop... Leave me alone..."
The voice –Shima?– only laughed.
and try as I may to forget, it proved impossible when the images rose to mind every time I closed my eyes.
Hot breath on the back of his neck...
Rough hands groping at him...
A quiet chuckle of his name...
Rin awoke in a cold sweat, eyes wide and breath coming in shallow pants. Was that real? Yes, he remembered it now. That was all real. His friends had...
He gritted his teeth and looked down. What a pathetic excuse for an exorcist. He couldn't even think of the damned word without the threat of breaking down!
I believe it took only three months to fall to pieces. Every night I would dream of it, every night I would wake up in a cold sweat, face streaked with tears. I wondered constantly, how long would it take for Yukio to notice? How long would it take until I couldn't handle it anymore? How much longer could I cling to sanity when I was no longer capable of more than half an hour of sleep?
Three months. That's how long it took for a simple dream to destroy me. Ninety-two days and I was broken.
Rin was growing restless. Dark bags appeared beneath his eyes, the once vibrant blue now dull and weary. He couldn't sleep, tossing and turning in bed. Kuro would meow and paw at his arm in worry. Yukio remained oblivious, most nights either away on a mission or deeply asleep. He was alone in his misery, unable to even confide in Kuro about what was bothering him. Eventually he would swat the cat sídhe away and go down to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk, drying his eyes as he went.
A month after the incident, Rin was lying on the floor flipping through the latest Shounen Jump in a weak attempt to stifle his growing boredom. Kuro was sprawled on the windowsill, enjoying the slight breeze passing through the open window. Rin paused to read a short four-panel comic and chuckled dryly. Like a dam breaking, he suddenly sat up and started laughing hysterically, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Kuro started, leaping to his paws and accidentally toppling to the floor. The cat scuttled off, tails bushed out. He fell onto his back, fisting his hands into his hair and screaming, suddenly furious beyond comprehension.
He bit down on his lip, tasting the dots of blood that swelled up with grim pleasure. Another weak laugh escaped him amongst the sobs wracking his thin body. What was happening to him?
One night I had woken up and couldn't fall back asleep. I can't remember why, but I unsheathed the Kurikara. I stared down at it, the damned thing bedazzled with shimmering cyan flames, the bane of my existence. I tried so hard, but the stupid thing just wouldn't break. In a fit of anger I threw it across the room and ran off.
The night after the dam finally breaking inside of him, Rin woke up. He glanced at the glowing digital clock on his desk, which told him that it was seven minutes past midnight. Yukio was sound asleep in his bed. Kuro was out, most likely hunting. The Koma Sword hung on a hook next to his bunk, hidden inside the red sleeve. Rin took it down and slipped off the sleeve and the sheath, tossing them aside.
With a hand placed on either end of the blade, Rin stared down at Kurikara. The sword gleamed an innocent silver with the occasional flicker of blue dancing up the metal. He clenched his jaw and tried to snap it but nothing happened. With a wail of rage he hurled it from him and stormed off. It bounced off the wall and fell to the floor, a minuscule hairline fracture appearing. Little flecks of blue light sparked from it before dying out.
The ruckus woke up Yukio, who sat up and saw his brother missing. Looking down, he saw the Kurikara. Confused, he picked it up and returned it to its casing and placed it back on the hook.
For a week I went about life normally, despite Yukio's occasional odd look. It was just past midnight when I tried again to destroy my heart. It was cracked, and I remember being ridiculously pleased with this. My palms were sliced open as I tried again to break it. It cracked even further and it was so painful my mind blanked out for a few seconds. I think cracking the sword furthered my descent into madness and any hope left for me was dashed.
My wounds mock me, hissing insults that I want to deny but I know they're true. I couldn't sleep at all that night.
Rin returned to his stance a week later, sitting on his bed late at night with the sword in his hands. He saw the tiny crack, and a pleased smirk stole over his lips. He could do this.
Bracing himself, he wrenched his fists but nothing happened besides slicing open his palms. Rin grimaced and tried again, and this time the minuscule crack escalated into a much bigger crack, cutting a jagged line halfway through the blade. A flash of pain rocketed through his body, making him stifle a yelp.
Casting a long glance over the length of the katana, Rin finally sheathed it and slipped the red casing back over it. Dumping it unceremoniously on the floor, he flopped down onto his side and closed his eyes. The slices on his palms stitched themselves back together with a faint hissing noise, but all he could hear was 'monster'.
With the crack in my sword, my heart, I started to lose control over my flames. Along with my flames went the last of my sense of self. I was turning into a full-fledged demon. I was fearful, jumpy, and quick to react with the most extreme violence. And as you know, earlier today I lost myself. I attacked.
Rin sat there, not quite sure why everyone had backed away from him or was staring at him with such fear in their eyes. He felt the flames coating his body like a second skin, but didn't think much of it. He licked his lips anxiously, slowly lifting his eyes to meet Shura's concerned gaze.
Across the classroom, Suguro clapped his hands together and fell into a typical stance to recite a sutra. Rin's elongated ears flicked toward the sound and his stare landed on Suguro. The demon inside him recognized the threat and broke free. A guttural roar escaped him as a brief warning before Rin kicked off of his chair, launching himself across the room.
Extended claws glinted black, aimed directly for the cockscombed teen's throat. Suguro cried out in shock, scrambling back in an attempt to avoid the deadly talons set on decapitating him. He would have been, had Rin not been knocked aside by the blast of a silver bullet grazing the side of his head. The demon hit the ground and rolled, blood smearing the hardwood in his wake.
Shura lowered her gun, looking with faint guilt at her downed apprentice. Slowly, she pulled out her phone and dialed Mephisto. "He's snapped." She murmured after a few long moments. "...Yeah. Alright." Hanging up, she fixed Yukio with a solemn gaze. "The Vatican will be here shortly to take custody of Rin. He will be put on trial and likely be executed."
I was carted off to the Vatican, subdued and unconscious. When I woke, I was locked in the basement in one of the prison cells. Of course, in my maddened state the thick bars stood little chance against my radiating hellfire. They melted away and by the time the only survivor of my guards called for help I was gone.
His eyes opened slowly before drooping shut. He groaned softly, rolling over and opening his eyes again. Vision hazy, he sat up, swaying drunkenly. He was in what looked to be a prison cell, a dingy rectangular room with solid concrete walls and one wall a pure expanse of thick metal bars with no obvious door. Without half of a conscious thought, he put out a burst of flames, bright bright blue, burning hot, melting...
Someone was screaming but it didn't register in his foggy mind. All he could think of was getting out, getting away. He needed to get away.
There was a door through which I escaped back to the cram school, so clearly I hadn't been there long. Otherwise the portal would have closed. Of course, I was followed and cornered in a classroom.
Sadistic glee painted his face as the devil danced amidst the bloodbath. Exorcist after exorcist took aim only to find their hearts being ripped out right before their eyes. The boy promised by Mephisto to be their savior was tearing them to pieces. His clawed hand plunged through their chests, fangs sinking into their throats and ripping out the jugular, cyan flames burning out their eyes.
"You're all going to die!" He crowed as another man collapsed at his feet, engulfed in flames. "But it's okay, really! You're all just a dream anyways! Soon I'll wake up from this infernal nightmare!"
"Rin!" A different voice screamed. "Stop! You're not dreaming, this is real!"
Rin dropped the body he currently held, the woman crumpling to a lifeless heap on the floor. He hissed at his twin, uncertainty flickering dimly in his eyes, but as a dozen more exorcists raced into the room he hunched over and swiped a hand through the air, sending a blast of flame in Yukio's direction. Yukio dodged, forced to make a hasty retreat against the barrier of fire created in his path.
With his brother out of the way, Rin turned his attention back to the Vatican exorcists. An army of Arias, Tamers, Knights and Dragoons, all of them trying and failing to quell his boundless rage. All of them fell before him in the ensuing chaos. Familiars turned on their masters, rebelling in the moment of fear. Soon Rin had his own small army of demons on his side; salamanders, Naberii, nagas and byakko all clamoring to fight against the humans who had enslaved them.
The demons sank their teeth and ripped their claws through whatever and whoever they could, drunk on the freedom that their prince was offering them. It did not take long before the room was littered with mangled corpses of humans and demons alike. It was only then that seven familiar people entered the room and Rin lost his confident composure.
And then finally it all started to come to an end. I remember the events that transpired afterwards so clearly. I'm sure you do as well, being the victims in this long, tragic tale of mine. Cornered by a demon you thought was your friend; I cannot even begin to imagine the thoughts that must have been going through your heads. I had, at long last, gone berserk.
Crouched in the corner, Rin snarled at them all, shrinking into himself as a feral growl rumbled in his chest. His gaze swung wildly back and forth between Shura and Yukio. Foam dripped through his bared fangs and splattered on the bloody floor. His entire emaciated form heaved and shook with every pain-filled breath, his shoulder burning where the silver bullet had hit him. Rin's bloodshot eyes continued to swivel between the two weapon-wielding exorcists in a state of blind panic, his tail reacting instinctively to the perilous situation and tucking itself underneath him.
He took a slow step forward but leaped backwards again when Shura pointed her sword right between his eyes. He backed right against the wall, shoulders hunched and every muscle tensed, and gave her a warning snarl, pulling back his lips to show his fangs again. With every thunderous growl, foam splattered to the floor. Saliva hung in thick glistening ropes from the corners of his mouth, quivering with every tremor of his body.
Mind dead set on slaughtering my imaginary rapists, I attacked you all. I remember feeling as though everything I had ever wanted was arranged on a golden platter right before me, and that the only obstacle in my way was the small group of friends I had managed to acquire. In my mind, my friends had turned against me. They needed to get out of my way and let me move on, let me get ahold of my own happiness.
In reality, you were trying to save me. I was destroying myself, losing myself to insanity and you knew that. You saw through my demonic exterior, choosing instead to see the lazy, ambitious, hotheaded loud-mouth I used to be. Maybe, subconsciously, I knew this. Rather than fight you, I chose to run away.
Behind Shura, there stood the Kyoto trio. As though he felt threatened, Rin flattened himself to the dirty concrete, tail flicking agitatedly. His eyes traveled swiftly over the form of each human before him, taking note of every weapon against him. Twin pistols armed with silver bullets, infused with holy water. One Maken demon sword. Two Tamers. Three Arias. All in all, he did not have much of a choice. He needed to make his escape.
Rin propelled himself forward, using the wall behind him as a springboard to launch himself over their heads, landing awkwardly half on, half off of the tiny windowsill. Scrambling quickly the rest of the way up, he punched through the glass and slipped through the small rectangle, disappearing from sight.
I had fled all the way back to Yukio and I's dorm by the time I finally came to my senses. Sitting there amongst the broken fragments of the life I had lost, the haze in my mind cleared and I realized what I had done. These past few minutes have been utter hell for me, nothing but tears and anguish, but of course I have nothing to complain about.
Rin crashed through the window of his and Yukio's room in the abandoned boy's dormitory. The glass melted away with a quick burst of his flames. He scrambled to his feet, eyes darting around frantically. Spotting no one, he slid into the chair at his desk, sliding open the drawer and swiping out a piece of paper and a pen. His mind was suddenly clearer than it had even been, and the sick realization came crashing down over him that this entire past few months had all been one big daydream to him. With a great shuddering breath he started to sob uncontrollably, screaming his loss, fisting his hands into his hair and leaning his forehead down against the desk. He hissed in breaths of air through bared fangs, vision swimming through a torrent of tears as he stared without blinking at the paper in front of him.
Boiling self-hatred pulsed in his veins. Yes... This was what must be done.
Yukio, I used to brag about how I would soon surpass you. What complete and utter bullshit that turned out to be, eh? I'm sorry for how much of a burden I was. I love you, little brother.
Suguro, we fought all the time but I never did tell you that I always thought you were really cool. Sorry I always pissed you off.
Shima, stay awesome. Don't give up, I'm sure Izumo will give in to you someday.
Konekomaru, don't let Shima get out of hand alright? I'm so sorry for what happened to your parents. I want you to know that your friends are always there for you, and you're lucky for that.
Shiemi, don't blame yourself because I know you're going to try. Don't let others get you down, it doesn't matter what they say or what you think. You're better than them and don't you forget it. Your Garden of Amahara is out there somewhere, you just have to keep looking.
Izumo, I know you'll deny it but I like to think that we had become friends. As a matter of fact, I kind of liked you. A lot. Sorry I annoyed you so much.
Shura, I'm sorry that I was such an awful student. At least you did a good job; you're a great mentor and you taught me a lot. Don't let Yukio blame himself, cause I know he will. Keep an eye on the clown for me, I know he's got something cooking in that stupid head of his.
Kuro, first you were dad's familiar, and then you were mine. I think it's pointless to deny that with you I felt like I had Father Fujimoto back, you're just so alike. I love you so much, you stupid furball. You're probably going to blame yourself too, but don't. It's no one's fault but my own. I know you can't stand Yukio, so try and find a good home with someone who will love you more than I could. I'm going to miss you.
I love you all so much. I've been a fool, and you've all been great friends. Please, become the best exorcists this world has ever seen. Yukio, if you don't become Paladin, I swear I will haunt you.
I've taken up enough of your time with my pathetic ramblings, so I'll draw this to a close.
After all this time, I have finally realized what you've all been trying to tell me. It's become so painfully obvious I can't believe I didn't see it sooner.
My presence is a plague on the people around me.
My breath is lethal gas, my words are poison to those who hear me speak.
My life is a curse, plain and simple. But that's okay. After all that I've done these past few days, you'll finally be rid of me. I'm putting myself down. I've killed so many under the illusion of a dream; it is only right that I too die, to help make amends.
Rin swallowed thickly, scrubbing angrily with his sleeve at the tears streaming down his cheeks. He would not cry. He could not allow himself to chicken out of this. This is what must be done. He had... He had killed people!
He looked down shakily at his hands, dropping the pen. These hands had ripped through the chests of sixty-seven high-ranked exorcists. Rin could almost see the thick red blood that had dripped from his fingers, from the talons that he had donned. He could taste the rich coppery tang in his mouth even though it was long gone.
He would not let that happen again. With reinforced resolve, he unsheathed his sword. He gazed down at the shimmering blue blade, gazing reproachfully at the fire dancing along its length. His eyes lingered on the deep crack, cutting jaggedly halfway through the metal. A unearthly glow emitted from the crack. My heart, he thought bitterly. He carefully maneuvered the katana, pointing the tip into his abdomen. Gritting his teeth, he screwed his eyes shut and drove the blade forward, scraping his heart and puncturing his lung. Blood spattered over the desk and the paper and he crumpled to the floor. He lay panting, shuddering, gasping, suffering, until he rolled onto his side. The severely cracked blade snapped completely, bathing him in a violent explosion of cyan fire. His body thrashed and spasmed, eyes wide, blood bubbling from his lips. His tail curled up into a tight ball, unbearable agony pulsing through his body at twice the speed of his ragged, uneven breathing.
Rin's eyelids fluttered. Salty tears pooled thickly in the corners, dripping diagonally down his pale cheeks and soaking into the wooden floor. The flames flickered once before going out. All of sudden, he could only see images, pictures in his head of the nightmare that had torn his life down bit by bit without so much of a warning. The tears flowed more thickly. I- I don't want to die! He thought despairingly. "God help me." he gasped, body tensing up and then going limp. Tears continued to flow silently down his cheeks, but he didn't make another sound. He didn't even move. He cried noiselessly, anguished thoughts tumbling through his brain. He should have written more. He should have said goodbye. He should have had better control over himself. He should have known... should have known it was all a dream. Just a dream. Just a miserable dream.
It all took only a few seconds but they dragged on by until finally his eyes slid closed and his blood-streaked jaw slackened, chest stilling. Just like that, Rin Okumura ceased to exist.
I could go on forever, but just as my time is running out, so is my paper. So let me clear some things up.
You think I regret this? You're wrong. But you were also right. I am the spawn of Satan, and my flames have consumed me. Only after all of this have I realized it. Only now have I come to terms with it, and for the sake of this knowledge I wouldn't change a thing.
I am a demon. I cannot be suppressed. I cannot be tamed.
Want to try?
Just keep dreaming.