Yippee. A new story, and therefore a new start. This will be my first attempt at writing a Wolf's Rain fic. It is my hope that it will be, at the very least, a semi-decent one. This particular fic is hopefully going to explore Toboe's relationships among the humans, as we all know how much he likes them and identifies with them. This is not Yaoi, nor is it shounen ai. This is what I would probably describe as a "brotherly" fic.
Warnings: Language (minor), Scenes dealing with depression and self-mutilation (light), and prostitution (minor references).
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimers: None (so far)
BLOOD BROTHERS
Chapter 1: Meetings (and so begins the single word title fetish)
Toboe was bored and annoyed. His pack had left the city he stayed in more than a week ago, leaving him behind and enrolling him in school, stating that the journey to the east would be far to dangerous and difficult for a pup like himself to attempt. They would be back, of course, and his mission was certainly of equal importance; reconnaissance of the humans always was, but that didn't keep him from being lonely. He had plenty of money and a very nice apartment uptown, but no one to go places with, no playmates or friends.
This, of course, was the reason that he was sitting beneath a tree on the school grounds, alone, as usual.
That, however, changed with the falling of a few leaves and twigs onto his unruly brown hair.
Brown eyes looked up and met blue, for high among the branches sat another boy, gazing back down with curiosity and annoyance.
"Explain to me," He said with a glower, "how you alone, of the entire city, are not too terrified of me and do not hate me enough to overlook my existence entirely. Or is this just a new manner of torment, invading the only place on this godforsaken planet where I can be alone."
Toboe blinked. "I can leave if you want me to. I just wanted someplace quiet to eat my lunch." He got to his feet and picked up his bag, but before he could start back toward the school, the boy bounded down from the tree, landing lightly in front of him, shuffling his feet.
"No, don't go," he started, then collected himself and began again. "I mean, you don't have to leave if you don't want to." He clearly was struggling to find the right words. "I… I don't really spend a lot of time with other people… no one really wants to be around me. I guess… I'm sorry I was so abrupt with you."
Toboe grinned. "I don't spend a lot of time with other people either." He sat down and opened his lunch back up. "So, what's your name?"
His newfound friend laughed and bit down into an apple. "Kit. And you're Toboe."
"How'd you know that?" Toboe inquired. He hadn't thought that he had that much of a reputation in the school.
"I notice everything. You're alienated almost as much as I am, if not nearly as openly."
Toboe grimaced. "I mostly just avoid the rest anyways. They're not… they're not like me." He smiled slightly. "Somehow, I get the feeling that we're more alike than we know."
"Where do you live?" asked Kit. Toboe glanced up, startled and fearful for a moment, worried that Kit only asked in order to help hunters, but there was nothing but honest curiosity in his piercing blue eyes.
"North side of town. I've got an apartment in the Maze complex."
"The upscale one?"
"Yeah."
"Oh." They sat for a moment before Toboe asked the inevitable question that hung heavy in the air.
"Where do you live?"
"South." It was clear that Kit didn't intend to volunteer any more information, so Toboe decided to let it go at that. If he really wanted to know, he could easily just follow Kit's scent after school let out. They sat under the tree for a while, just enjoying the cool, gentle breeze tossing the leaves and blowing through their hair.
The bell rang, breaking the tranquility to signal the end of lunch.
"So, what class do you have next?" asked Toboe, checking his watch to make sure that they would have plenty of time to get back before the second bell.
"Western History," Kit replied. He threw his lunch back into the paper sack and stood up, looking around. Seeing that the coast was clear, he started to head back toward the school. Toboe jumped to his feet and matched his swift pace.
"Same here. If you want, I can sit next to you. If that's okay with you, of course." Kit didn't say anything for a moment, and Toboe was just starting to become worried that he had broken the bond when Kit nodded slightly.
By the time they got back to the building, the halls were mostly clear of students. Those that remained, however, took note of the two boys walking together. In no time at all, whispers exploded throughout the hallway. Toboe looked over at Kit, confusion evident on his face.
"Ignore them." Kit whispered out of the side of his mouth. "You're gonna see hell for the next few days, but it'll blow over eventually. They're just shocked to see anyone walking with me. You're new though, so if you're lucky they'll just think you didn't know. Good thing you've kept a low profile till now."
The classroom was a different matter, however. Whispers and snide remarks flew through the air like lightning, rumors raced through the school fast than an Olympic runner on steroids.
And in the middle of it all was a young wolf, for the most part previously unaware of extent of the cruelty of human children. Never before had he experienced such estrangement and animosity from his peers. Wolf packs were far more accepting of strangers or outsiders.
No one but the two boys at the back of the room paid any attention to the teachers lecture on obscure native American tribes before Columbus' arrival in the new world. The feverish students all but threw notes at each other, all asking the same questions. Who the hell is that and why the hell is he sitting next to the freak?
The fervor didn't cease with the end of school, either. Students gathered anywhere they could find room, in groups large and small to discuss this new phenomenon. Phones rang off the hook throughout the city all night, each asking the same question. Have you heard?
Yet the two central figures in the controversy seemed blissfully unconcerned about the stir that they were creating.
There. First chapters are always the shortest and the hardest. At least in my personal opinion. Please, review, and please leave constructive criticism. Flames are acceptable, but my personal response may be too much for you to handle. Just a warning.
Oh, and if someone has happened to find my muse, a nice shiny red rock shaped like a flame and made out of ruby, I would appreciate it's safe return. It's very difficult to write without a muse.
Push the pink button. You know you want to.
