This is pretty long. Sorry about that. I should really come up with a better title for this cuz I don't like it... I've had this idea for a while. I'm just getting it out now. I know, I'm late.
[Disclaimer: I own nothing]
Long dark hair, cheeks stained red from blush, and tight blue shirt. Those were the images that played in his mind, going around and around like a merry-go-'round. ...They had ridden one a merry-go-'round on that spur-of-the-moment cover-up "date" to the fair.
He remembers the first day he saw her. It had been in April.
She wasn't the most quickest person to warm up to him nor the most talkative, and he found himself doing most of it. She was very shy, he came to realize, but she had very good reason to be.
Back in the present, his foot caught in a crack in the stone and he fumbled his steps. He gripped his lower shoulder tighter, feeling blood gush out once again. He regained his footing, took a deep breath and continued stumbling along thru the dark. The thought of her, the mental picture of her in his mind the only thing keeping him going.
The way she sprawled across the sheets, her dark hair sprawling around her, her hand laid lazily yet gracefully on the blue comforter the same color as her blouse, fingertips barely touching her forehead. Her eyes would then crinkle as a smile.
It was night in Beacon Hills, and obviously a very late time. No, scratch that. He was on the outskirts of the town, not yet near civilization.
Why is there a limping young man trudging thru a forest in pitch black night? Well, you see, this young man had gone away—ran away to be more exact. He had to; it was all beginning to be too much. To start things off, Scott was now a werewolf, and not too long ago he had narrowly missed becoming a part of sacrifice of virgins. Then there had been Deucalion, some demented man—who also happen to be a werewolf, albeit blind—who had been at Scott's throat and both boys had skidded by alive, again. And then there was Peter Hale, psychotic-alpha-turned-moderately-good-guy, the Darach and now there was the Nemeton.
He had ran away seemingly a long time ago to save those he loved. Everything was going wrong because of him, and he didn't want to wake up to find dried blood on his hands once again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
So he had left.
It had been hard at first—it was hard to control his sudden impulsiveness and irritability. He would still see that shrouded figure just out of eyesight now and then, and it took forever until he was no longer afraid to fall asleep.
Her name had been Tsubasa Hanekawa. And he doesn't even know if she's still alive.
He met the little Japanese girl without much intention behind it. Both had been forced to speak by the mercy of the science lab assignment and Scott's insisting that something had been off about her that day.
Back then, the young man had still been irrationally infatuated with a girl who still refuses to communicate with him unless she needed an ego boost.
He remembers when Tsubasa met Scott, and how she had been very wary about it at first.
And he remembers the first day she began having headaches. That had been the worst, and scariest. He remembers it had been nighttime, just he alone with Scott on their way to Derek they spotted her leaned against railing overlooking a stream. She was only wearing her pajamas, barefoot. By this time, they all had become close acquaintances but she had brushed off their attempted kindness that night.
When she revealed that she didn't want to go back home to her parents, neither had pressed the matter further. The least they could do was escort her to safety, knowing all-too-well that the town is like a breeding place for all things evil, especially at nighttime. Regardless, this seemed to even make her angry. That is also when she began clutching her head and had dropped down to her knees, cries of pain rang from her lips. She ran away after that, leaving him and Scott wondering exactly what had just happened. They had followed her but Scott had quickly lost her scent.
That had happened during spring break.
She wasn't seen at school for some time after.
Hearing rustling to his far left, the young man stopped in his tracks, his pulse raising on instinct. He looked up to the moon and prayed it was one of his friends. There have been too many murders happening in this very wood and he certainly didn't want to become the next mangled body appearing on the news. He knew it would just break his father's heart more than him skipping town.
He remembers the first time Tsubasa told them her "secret." Neither believed her at first, thinking it impossible but quickly scratched that noting how everything surrounding them had once been thought only legends. The first time they saw it happen, however, was a completely different story.
It was triggered by stress, he learned. Headaches were the signs that it was to start happening again.
She hadn't tried to kill them, unconsciously, that time. Her alter ego had merely played with them, intrigued by its two new "play toys." It had held them at mercy.
Her nails would grow to claws when it happened; eyes narrow to slits and change to amber; developing a slip in her tongue that would draw out R's and add little "nya"'s during speech. Her hair would whiten then, growing almost twice its original length as well. She also didn't care about her body image and lost all shyness when it happened, he remembers at times she would be found out at night in only lingerie.
And no, she hadn't been another wolf.
But it was something that can be just a bad.
In the woods, he remained still, just listening to the forest around; his muscles tense, ready to sprint if he had to. Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Peter Hale, Aiden, Ethan, Scott—he hoped, prayed it was one of them. He shook his head, feeling a little dizzy. His arm had stopped bleeding now and had dried to a copper-like stench on his hand.
But if it was the Oni...
A shiver ran down his spine. Oh god, he prayed it wasn't the Oni. The Nogitsune was already hell to deal with as it was, and from time to time he could still feel its presence. Sometimes he would look over his shoulder expecting to see the creature behind him. Though, luckily, the sensation of constantly being watched had dwindled down to a bare minimum.
He had ran away after the Nogitsune was separated from his conscious. Despite, he still saw the despair and fear on his friends' faces, and not only for him but for the Fox that constantly stalked the shadows.
The Nogitsune still had control over him. He felt it and knew it when he had been awoken sometimes in the night, told that he had been chanting in an odd tongue or trying to perform some act while in his sleep.
He had been told he had almost killed someone once while sleepwalking.
So he had left. Hardly any "goodbyes" were said. He had giving hints here and there that he wanted to leave and on his a decision one night, he up and drove out of town. He didn't—couldn't bare with hurting anyone else anymore.
He left not wanting to end up hurting her.
The way her movements were so fluid—he didn't notice right away. The way she always seemed so graceful, putting his hyperactive tendencies to shame. She wore glasses and her hair was almost always done in a large braid or two. She was extremely smart as well, something that he found extremely attractive. She seemed to have a favor for cats, too.
The rustling in the woods near him had only been a small animal. Relaxed, he continued his trek to town. He searched his head to remember where Derek's loft was located.
Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Ms. McCall, himself. Heck, even Danny and Coach—he hoped they were all still fine, still alive, knowing their lives were constantly at risk, being human and all. Even though Lydia and Tsubasa were technically normal, they were not necessarily humans. Lydia had been transformed by Peter Hale. Tsubasa had been cursed.
Nevertheless, he was certain that, by some miraculous phenomenon, over time Lydia became his past and Tsubasa his now and hopeful future.
But then the Nemeton arrived and he had left; everything had been blown out of proportion. He had isolated himself from others without realizing. And when the Nogitsune revealed itself, he had purposely distanced himself from Tsubasa.
She had shown concern for him, noticing his hyper-activeness taking a negative turn, and he had practically yelled at her to leave him alone in return. And he saw then the uncertainty in her eyes when he apologized a few days later.
When the Nogitsune proved to have control over his body, on a eerie and full moon night, he had ordered Tsubasa to leave town, revealing key points about his friends' battles and had convinced her that Beacon Hills was not safe. And so, she left, so she would be.
But now, he had passed a gas station and several large abandoned shacks, ignoring the chills and imagined scenarios they brought alone at night. He was now coming into Beacon Hills. It was silent all around as he passed a convenience store, an adult store, another gas station, and then a trailer park. He was inside the main town area now.
The worse thought, he knew, was that he'd find all those he cared for hurt or even murdered, and prayed it untrue. His breathing became irregular and he paused momentarily, bent over his knees and taking deep, ragged breaths.
She hated his panic attacks. Absolutely hated them with a passion and became visibly fearful whenever they happened. Though, he had made sure she had never seen more than two, many others have—Scott, his father, Lydia, Jackson...
..Jackson... Jackson Whittemore had been the cool guy of Beacon Hills High before leaving for Europe, and he had hated Jackson for a number of reasons: not only was he considerably cool and liked, he had dated his long-time crush for several years, had been captain of the school boys lacrosse team, and Jackson had been a considerably good friend of Tsubasa's.
The relationship between Tsubasa and Jackson was not romantic, yet it was not a formal one.
He remembers seeing them at the lunch table more than once or in class near each other. He'd see the way Tsubasa giggled at Jackson and would feel an ugly feeling in his stomach.
Jackson had also broke up with Lydia Martin soon before he and Tsubasa began talking and that left a huge window open that this young man hadn't wanted Jackson to fill. They remained good friends regardless, and to his surprise.
Now, he was passing several houses with several yards of space between the next. Sometime during it all, he found himself taking a detour from the main dirt path and became lost in a maze of small houses. These houses were closer together, the kind that were small and cozy but were only used for a short planned amount of time. And the more he walked, the more there was a familiarity about them.
Thoughts came to mind about leaving again, later of course, in order to find her. And these thoughts were surprisingly optimistic taking in consideration of all he's been through in these short three years. He knew that she would be mad—pissed—of that she was made to leave town for a vague reason. But then again, she didn't want to live with her parents anyway, he had reminded her. Some of these ghouls were known to wreak mayhem outside town lines and put his trust and faith into the unknown that she'd be fine.
Just what he didn't expect was to walk passed a house that stirred a recognition inside him.
He found his feet had stopped in front of the small house and just listened. Hand still holding his shoulder, he silently listened to muffled shouts of what he guessed to be children. He could also hear a television that was close to one of the close windows.
He wasn't sure how long he stood, watching, listening to the family inside.
There was a woman's voice. And a man's. ...And then the house grew suddenly silent.
The young man shuffled his feet. The woman's voice sounded again, dominant to the noise, as if being listened to.
His tattered sneakers shuffled along the dirt. Before he could go ver far, the front door swung open.
The man who opened the door stood for several moments before calling out his name in disbelief. The man wasn't exactly as old as he thought, to his surprise, and was almost exactly his own.
Jackson stood shirtless (but in jeans) in the doorway staring back him, brows already arched and eyes wide. He spoke the young man's last name in disbelief. Jackson couldn't believe that he was back.
"Jackson... Wha...what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in London!?"
Answering the door had obviously been a distraction because who he had guessed to the woman heard earlier, came to the door. As soon as she squeezed herself passed Jackson, her eyes narrowed and he stuttered in shock.
She wrapped her arms around her bare arms. Her hair was made into two large braids, one hanging over her left shoulder. Her glasses slid a little before promptly pushing them back up her nose.
It was hard to form the word on his lips, and speaking it felt much worse. "Tsubasa...?" he squeaked.
Jackson squirmed a bit, squeezing his forehead before pointing at him. " What are you even doing hear?"
He turned back to the young girl in only a nightgown. "Tsubasa—-"
"Go away, Stiles." She didn't even blink. Her arms were wrapped around her torso.
Stiles stared back, still looking like a deer in headlights. "What..." He swallowed.
"Go. Away. Stiles."
Jackson spoke up again. "Do you know how much they've been tearing to his place apart looking for you, man?! What happened to you; where have you even been?"
"I could ask you the same thing." It was suddenly hard to swallow.
"Well," Tsubasa stepped forward, "I ran into Jackson in one of the nearby towns, and he had been on his way back to Beacon Hills. We both came back to help Scott and the others, and realizing it would have not been smart to drop out of school. And yes, they're's already help for that.
"I was told to leave town for unknown reasons, Stiles," Tsubasa continued. "I was alone; what else could I have done.?"
Jackson stepped to the side as more came to see what the commotion was about. Stiles felt his chest drop. One small boy squeezed his head between Jackson's leg and the door frame. He was pushed outside by a girl that looked identical to him. Both looked around one years of age, give or take.
"Oh.."
Jackson wiped his mouth nervously.
Though he dreaded the answer, Stiles, his voice low and hoarse, "they're yours...?" he motioned to Tsubasa and an uncomfortable-looking Jackson.
Silence followed as the little girl walked to Tsubasa and tugged on her nightgown, calling "mommy, mommy!"
A pang hit deep inside Stiles' chest.
He pursed his lips. "So are you two...like...you know...together o-or something..?"
Jackson didn't answer.
Jackson scooped up the small boy at his side. Stiles could get a better view of them now: both children had wild brown hair with large dark eyes like their mother to match. The girl had a small button nose; the boy fidgeted with Jackson's hair, obviously feeling the tension, and surprisingly Jackson didn't seem to mind and welcomed the distraction. Both had fair skin, and if Stiles were to look closely enough, he would have seen tiny dots along the boy's skin.
Tsubasa spoke: "no."
The girl turned to look at Stiles. She was partially hidden behind her mother and a finger was in her mouth.
"They're yours."
Jackson averted his gaze. The tension in the air was strong.
Stiles was at lost for words. He lost his footing momentarily.
"I had them some months after running into Jackson. I hadn't even known at first, honestly."
Stiles' jaw hung open. He covered it with a hand. Tsubasa knew he was to asked a question like "how," so she gave him a look.
"Mommy," the girl asked, "is that Stiles? He looks like the one guy in the pictures."
Tsubasa answered it true before picking up her tiny child. Now Stiles could see the resemblance. "Yes. And he was just leaving." There was a harsh look to her normally soft gaze.
He didn't move, too stricken by shock.
Stiles watched silently as the girl asked "why?" as she was lowered back to the floorboards of the porch, and was answered by Jackson's shooing the small ones inside.
As she turned, Stiles blurted out once more.
"I was just practically kicked out of town for an unknown reason by someone who I thought loved me," Tsubasa answered.
The words hit home, she could tell by the look on his face. When Stiles had told her to leave, he had lied about many things—Scott, the weird animals, the killings, his mysterious disappearances, and the worst yet that he didn't love her anymore. He know that that was the kick to finally get her to leave town to safety. He just never got to tell her the truth and from his point of view, it looked much too late.
"I had been at the most vulnerable I could be, Stiles. Jackson just happened to be there; you weren't." After Stiles didn't speak further, Tsubasa added: "you should go find Scott. At that's the least you can do since they're no secrets between you both."
The door closed with Stiles Stilinski still recovering from this sudden news.
After some time, his hand gripped tighter to his lower arm, trying not to make too much noise as he a shuffled against the ground.
I was thinking that for the daughter's name could be Hana, and the son either Raiden or Kai or Shion. What are your opinions 'cause I completely have no idea
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What do you think of the oneshot? This is a story idea that came to mind randomly when the last couple episodes of season 3b had aired. I guess you could say that it's like a test drive to a Stiles/kinda-Oc pairing I have been becoming fond of lately. If anyone got the Bake/Nise/Nekomonogatari series reference, go and get yourself an icecream sundae ! (because cookies are too mainstream LOL, jk
I'm planning on writing one more short with these two but it would be nicer and Hanekawa would not be soo mean. I have become quite fond of this Stiles/Hanekawa possible pairing and I would like to know whether you all think I should take it further (of course, maybe not this scenario and it would be where Hanekawa was nicer). It is not an option to want another chapter without sending reviews.
