Summary-
Life hurts and then you die. But, sometimes, if you're lucky enough, you wake back up again. Nura Rikuo will never regret that. Reincarnation. ONESHOT. 28 Drabbles.
Disclaimer-
I do NOT own Nurarihyon no Mago or -Man, I'd be a hell of a lot richer if I did. I'm not, so I don't.
~Thought speech~
-
-Serenity-
Nura Rikuo, the as-of-yet unconfirmed 3rd heir of the Nura Clan, had an odd sort of serenity about him. It was the kind that was typically only seen in those who had seen the depths of hell and come out the other side – not unscathed, not whole, not sane, but surviving. Broken and bleeding and cursing but living. Found in those who had seen the worst of the world – and all of the creatures that live in it – but also the best of it. Those who looked and learned and accepted even when it would break others, because it is what they have to do to survive. Rikuo had a serenity about him that very few lived to have.
The problem was that Nura Rikuo was only 6 years old.
-Applause-
It was hard not to applaud Rikuo's determination. He had been trying to catch his father in a prank for almost 3 weeks now – ever since Rihan had told him that if he managed it then he could go out with the rest of the Hyakki Yagyou.
Rikuo had started simple: whoopee cushions under seats, kick-me signs on backs, switching salt for sugar, food-colouring in toothpaste, books on top of doors (where possible). The basic childish pranks expected from a mischievous 6 year old with many bad influences.
That had changed after the first week.
It was almost as if a switch had been flipped. The pranks gained a more sophisticated edge – snares outside of rooms, wire traps in corridors, pit traps scattered across the grounds, hair dye in shower heads (Kubinashi was purple for a week), and rearranging everything in a room (moving it subtly a few centimetres left) and watching people walk into everything. He had even managed to rig up a series of pressure plates, 2 nerf guns, paint balloons, a stray cat, and a ton of feathers.
(Don't ask)
As more time passed the pranks continued to get more and more complicated, and yet not one of them managed to hit its intended target. Rihan continued to avoid his sons every attempt with (lessening) ease.
It had reached the point where the entirety of the Main House was worried about leaving their rooms!
No. You definitely had to give the kid a round of applause for his determination, no matter how much you hated it personally.
-Ambush-
Rihan shared a smirk with his 7-year-old son as they walked (snuck. No Nurarihyon merely walked anywhere) towards the door, tray in hand.
They had been planning this little ambush for a while - that they had managed to keep it a secret in a house where the walls literally had ears was a minor miracle.
As Rikuo reached towards the door, Rihan held up 3 fingers and silently counted down.
3…2…1…Slam!
The door flew open. Rikuo darted up onto the bed, waking Wakana.
"Kaa-chan! Happy Birthday!"
Rihan followed more sedately behind, sliding the door closed behind him and placing the breakfast tray on the bedside table.
-Agony-
Life was agony.
Nura Rikuo knew this well. Every moment he lived, every breath he took, every movement he made, was pure agony. The agony of having everything you've ever known shattered, of having everyone you have ever cared for taken from you, of having a part of yourself missing - always reaching (grasping desperately. Hoping, always hoping. And aching, hurting, all the more every time you realise that it. Is. Gone) for something that was never there.
Life was agony.
Allen Walker knew this well. It gave - made you care and love and hope and feel - and then it took and took and took. And it continued taking until you had even less than you had originally.
(He was born with the power to protect, only to be abandoned due to it. He was adopted by a father who loved him, only to sentence him to a fate far worse than death. He gained a family who cared for him, only for them to turn against him because of the way that he'd been born. He'd had an uncle who loved and cared and was there for him only to lose him to his own abilities.)
Life was agony.
But that was okay. Life also gave second chances. And, to Rikuo-who-was-once-Allen, if it was about survival (about love and family and friends and peace) a little agony was worth it.
-Selfish-
Allen was selfish. Always had been. He'd never denied it. One had to be a bit selfish to survive on the streets of London - there was always someone worse off (someone who needed that apple more than you. Someone who deserved that seat by the fire more than you did. Someone who was suffering worse than you. Someone older or younger than you) and unless you were a little selfish you'd starve or freeze to death within a week.
So he was selfish. Oh, he hid it well.
(Lack of self-preservation and a sense of self-worth helped with that - who'd have ever expected the guy who would literally throw himself at the devil to save your life to be even the slightest bit selfish.)
But he was selfish.
He didn't fight the Akuma for the Order, he did it to free every soul that was cursed. (Just like Mana had been. Like what he had done to Mana) He didn't free their souls because he cared (even if he did, even if he understood. Even if he knew) or because he didn't want them to hurt anyone, he did it because it was physically painful to look at them. (To watch -feel- their suffering and know that this was how Mana suffered due to him.)
He didn't fight the war for the Order. Or for Cross. Or for the Noah. Or for Mana. Or even for the whole of humanity. No, he fought the war for his own sake (It was the only thing his conscience would let him do. Firstly as repentance for what he had done to Mana, later because he had formed bonds and he couldn't bear to see them die in a pointless war like so many others had. But, in the end, he had fought because he was tired and alone and had just wanted it all to be over. He had just wanted to pain and fighting and death to stop.)
Allen was selfish and he was okay with that. Selfish didn't mean self-serving after all. And if being selfish kept himself and those that he cared for (loved) alive, then Allen would be the most selfish person in the world.
Nobody expected any different of a Nurarihyon anyway.
-Entertain-
Sometimes, more often than anyone would like, the Main House of the Nura Clan would be forced to entertain 'important visitors'.
These 'important visitors' were the heads of other Clans and Families that were allied with the Nura Clan. They weren't family (some weren't even particularly trusted) but were important allies so Rikuo had to be nice. But not too nice.
He hated it.
Unfortunately, that didn't change the fact that he happened to be good at it. Rikuo could charm the clothes off of a street rat when he set his mind to it, and he seemed to haven an instinct that told him who would respond best to what and who would attach the clan at the slightest sign of weakness.
It also didn't change the fact that, as the Young Master of the Nura Clan (even though he was not yet 13 and as such was still a child in their eyes), he was expected to attend all of these gatherings.
Rikuo hated it. But (for his father, for his mother, for his grandfather, for his family) he put up with it anyway.
-Grey-
Grey is an odd colour to Allen-who-is-now-Rikuo. One that he both loves and hates.
Grey is the colour of his hair - aged prematurely after he murdered Mana. It is the colour of the Noah's skin - the skin of the family that he had butchered twice over (once as Neah when insanity had ruled over him. Once as Allen when he was born a bastard of both races - accommodator and Noah - cursed to never be truly accepted by either.) Grey is the colour of Akuma - proof of the most depraved and tragic parts of humanity.
However, grey is also the colour of Crown Clown. Crown Clown who had always been there for him, who had always comforted and protected him. It is the colour of his eyes - never changing, proof that he remained human. It is the colour of both the Order and the Noah (and how they would both curse him for that comparison) - the only families that he had ever known.
As Allen, grey had represented everything that he had loved and hated. Everything that he had gained and then lost. As Rikuo, it represented an odd sort of in-between. Balance.
(After all - if black is the absence of light and white is a mixture of all light, then what else could grey be but Balance.)
-Raven-
Ravens are considered oracles. Associated with both Apollo, Greek God of Prophecy, and Morrigan, a Celtic Goddess who was also a Prophetess.
Allen Walker was born underneath a ravens caw - he was the Destroyer of Time. Prophesised. Destined. Born of both sides (with both Dark Matter and Innocence), he would end a war that had plagued that world for millennia. In doing so, Allen lost everything.
But he gained wisdom.
Nura Rikuo was not born under a ravens caw. He destiny is his own to make, his life his own to live, his fate his own to choose. Human or Yokai. Leader or Civilian.
There is no guarantee that he will choose Yokai (even though to do otherwise would be to abandon his family). No prophecy to say that he will become 3rd head of the Nura Clan (even though if he doesn't then the Nura Clan will surely fall to Hagoromo Gitsune.)
His life and his fate are his own…
...And Rikuo has never been more terrified.
-Ether-
He was lounging on the Sakura tree, eyes fixed on the stars high above him. Smoke rising gently into the sky from the house below him.
He hated this. He hated that he hadn't been strong enough. Again! And now his father-
-"Rikuo."
His gaze flickered to the small form above him before returning to the stars above. "Jii-chan."
"This wasn't your fault. None of us could have expected this. Rihan wouldn't blame you." His grandfather stated, sake in hand and eyes also fixed on the sky.
"I know. But that doesn't mean that I don't blame myself. It doesn't help with the memories." Rikuo sighed, memories (a girl, a poem, a blade, Nee-chan, blood, so much blood, his father falls and he's bleeding and he doesn't know what to do!) causing a wave of fury to crash through him. His hands clenched around the pipe he was fiddling with.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed his grandfather's hands tighten around the sake bottle and cup. When he spoke his voice was ice-cold. "When we find them, they'll pay."
Rikuo's eyes glanced back to the house, to the room where his father lay - had lain ever since the attack a week ago. Where his mother sat vigil next to his father's unresponsive body. They were unsure if he would ever wake and the entire clan was feeling that loss. His eyes returned to the sky.
"Yes. Yes they will." He agreed, voice sharp and angry and cold.
Smoke continued to rise into the ether.
-Chameleon-
Nurarihyon were chameleons - they could choose whether to stand out or blend in, hiding themselves and their abilities behind illusions.
It suited Allen-who-is-now-Rikuo well.
When he had just been Allen, he had thrived by using people's expectations against them. Red was exactly what everyone expected (what everyone wanted) from a street kid. Allen was everything that Mana wanted in a son, everything that the Order needed in an exorcist, everything that the Noah expected from the traitorous 14th. He'd learnt as a child that changing yourself was necessary for survival - he'd pretend to be whoever they wanted him to be because it made them less likely to turn on him and throw him away later. (Not that that had stopped the Order after finding out that he was a Noah.)
(Surprisingly, the closest that Allen had ever gotten to being himself was with Cross [fucking bastard]. Cross didn't want or expect anything from him - well, besides paying off all of that fucking debt. [Dickhead])
Rikuo-who-was-once-Allen was a Nurarihyon in actions long before he was one in blood. Which is probably why he had adapted so well.
-Insane-
Rikuo was crazy. He knew and accepted that.
After all, nobody comes out of war unscathed. And he had never had the best of role models. The Order was made of people with issues and horrible childhoods, and everyone was completely crazy anyway. (It was built on the backs of unwilling child soldiers.) Mana had hopped on the crazy train long before Allen had met him, Cross was practically the poster child for Issues™, and the Noah were all certifiable. (The Earl [Adam. His name is Adam and he-was-your-brother-and-now-he's-trying-to-kill-you] was the worst of them with the 14th [Neah. Poor Neah - driven insane and forced to slaughter his own family for a title that he had never wanted] as a close second but all of the Noah were pretty bad - constant death and reincarnation and war and losing your family would do that to anyone.)
So he had been basically doomed from the start. Which didn't mean that he hadn't tried to hold onto his sanity (especially in the Order while surrounded by Kanda and Lavi and Lenalee and Cross and Komui) but at some point he had just given up.
Probably when he spoke to the voices in his head and they spoke back, honestly. (And promptly tried to take over his body and kill everybody but, hey, semantics.)
So Rikuo was insane. He accepted that. And if the fact that he missed the voices in his head just made him crazier, well then he was okay with that.
(Except it didn't make him crazier.
Crown Clown had been bound to him since before he had even been born. When he'd had nothing - no name, no home, no food, no life, no identity,
nothing - Crown Clown had been there, a comforting tingle in the back of his head. Proof that he existed. Giving him reassurance after a bad battle. Sending him love after a betrayal. He had never had to face life without Crown Clown until he was gone.
Neah, once the worst of the insanity had been cleared away, was always there for him - talking to him and protecting him and caring for him unconditionally for the first time in his life. It was amazing how quickly he had grown to love someone that he had once hated. But Neah was the first true family that he'd had, family that knew and accepted and loved him.
They'd always been there with him and now they were
gone and there was an emptiness in his soul that nothing could fill. One that Rikuo could feel with every breath he took, with every beat of his heart. It wasn't crazy. Not this. Never.)
There was nothing wrong with a little crazy after all.
-Anticlimactic-
"Well. That was anticlimactic."
"Uh-huh." Rikuo nodded from where he was standing, wide eyes fixed on his father. "I can't believe this."
Kubinashi grimaced in agreement. "Neither can I."
Both males ignored the revered founder of the Nura Clan rolling around on the floor in tears of laughter.
"I mean, all of that work, all of the planning and the effort that I put into every single one of my traps-" Rikuo pointedly ignored the cough from Kubinashi that sound suspiciously like 'pranks', "-and this is what gets him. This!" He gestured angrily towards where his father was blinking rapidly in shock. "What a bloody cop out! If I'd known that this woulda worked then I'd've done it weeks ago."
Rikuo continued his grumbling, even as he turned on his heel and walked away - ignoring his mother's reprimand of 'Language!' and his grandfather's attempts to kill himself with laughter.
The Nidaime head of the Nura Clan, feared and respected by yokai all across Japan, felled by a bloody banana peel. Who'd believe it?
-Admission-
"Rikuo."
He looked up at his best friend, is sworn brother. "Zen?"
Zen looked oddly conflicted, as if he wanted to ask something but was fighting himself. After a moment he seemed to come to a decision and spoke. "What-What is dying like?"
Rikuo sucked in a sharp breath, feeling strangely winded by the question. Even though he'd never actually spoken of his past life - or even told anyone about his having been reincarnated - he knew that the majority of those who knew him well had figured it out. (It wasn't hard to work out that there was something odd about him after all - he'd often had trouble acting his age when he was younger and he'd always reacted oddly, for a child, to danger and threats. Rikuo had also switched rapidly from adult-like to child-like in his mannerisms and speech patterns. Combined with his nightmares and other obvious symptoms of PTSD it wasn't surprising that the majority of the yokai in the Main house had figured it out. Reincarnation was nowhere near the weirdest thing that most of them had ever seen.) But, despite that, no one had ever come right out and asked him anything about it before.
Still, this was Zen. His brother who would eventually be taken from him long before his time. If anyone deserved an answer to that question it was him.
"I- Shit." Rikuo ignored the way the room quieted around him as he searched for the right words. "Death- Death is agony. It's being tired - the sort of tired were it feels like you haven't slept in a week and everything aches like you've been hit by a fucking truck and you just feel so weak, like your body weighs a bloody ton. Like every nerve ending is on fire even as you desperately try to keep moving, keep walking 'cause if you stop then you'll shatter in to a million pieces. It's rest - when you finally stop fighting ('cause you always fight, even if you don't want to. It's instinct.) it's like a warm cloak and a hot drink on a cold winters day. Like being folded in a parents hug and knowing that everything will be okay now, just like when you were a child. Like waking up perfectly healthy for the first time in years - nothing hurts any more so you don't have anything to worry about anymore."
He took a deep breath, shoving a hand through his hair even as he closed his eyes. "Death is an ending. It hurts. It aches. Most of the time it's bloody. But it's also a beginning. It's peace and rest and sleep. That's what death is like."
Ignoring the stunned silence at his admission, Rikuo threw himself to his feet and walked out of the room - muttering "I'm going to the bathroom," behind him.
He needed a moment to force the memories (pain-oh fuck this hurts! - and grief and I trusted you! How could you do this?! I'm not a traitor! Of being dragged from his cell to his execution. Of seeing his friends stone faces. Of the yells and the screams and the insults. Of knowing that nobody would even attempt to save him - he'd served his use, they had no need for him now that the war was over - he was just a traitorous Noah to them. Of Crown Clown being ripped from him and the agony and the blade rising higher and -) back down.
Yes. Death was agony.
(But so was betrayal and of the two the second hurt far more than the first.)
But it was also life. And Rikuo couldn't - wouldn't- regret that.
-Blessing-
Life was a curse.
Rikuo knew that. He understood that. When he had been Allen, life had - more often than not - been a curse. Being abandoned. Living on the streets. Mana's death. Cross. (Fucking money grabbing bastard). The War. The Black Order. The Noah and the Earl and the Akuma. The Betrayal and his execution.
(Life hurts and then you die. Allen is a perfect example of this.)
Life was a blessing.
Rikuo knew that. He was in awe of that. As Rikuo, life had - for the most part - been a blessing. For the first time he had a family that loved him unconditionally. A father and a mother and a grandfather and a clan and friends who he could trust to watch his back. Things that the children around him took for granted but that he still couldn't believe he had. For the first time, Rikuo had a home.
(Life hurts and then you die. But sometimes, if you're lucky enough, you wake back up again. Rikuo will never regret that.)
Life is a blessing and a curse.
But that's okay - nothing can be gained without losing something first.
-Exile-
~I'm going to die.~
~I know.~ Allen almost cringed at the long silence that followed. (He'd had enough of silence. Long months of isolation were taking their toll on him - it had been weeks since he'd spoken to anyone but the voices in his head.) ~I'm sorry.~
He huffed a nigh soundless chuckle. ~Don't be Neah, this isn't your fault.~
Allen could feel the Noah go to protest and irritation rose in him. ~No Neah! This is not your fault! You couldn't have known. There was no reason to believe that I could both be a Noah and have Crown Clown. As far as you knew it wasn't possible for Innocence and Dark Matter to coexist. You didn't know that everyone would turn on me. You didn't know that I would be captured and you certainly didn't know that it'd be the Black Order that managed it. This is
not your fault!
Neah sounded weary. ~And if I hadn't killed my family in the first place then none of this would be happening. Don't deny it Allen. Insanity is no defence for murdering my entire family! Neither mine or Adams. If I hadn't you would have been welcomed by them instead of hunted.~
He smiled bitterly in the darkness. ~Somehow, I doubt that.~
Footsteps could be heard echoing from along the corridor.
~It wasn't your fault either Allen.~
(Both he and Neah knew that he didn't believe that.)
He could see Kanda and Link through the bars. It was time for his execution.
Rikuo woke abruptly.
Unfocused eyes took in his surroundings, his sleep dazed mind desperately trying to determine where he was. The crick in his neck and the cold wood against his back informed him that he'd fallen asleep against the wall of his father's room. Again.
Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. "Shit." No wonder he'd had a nightmare.
Rikuo hadn't thought of that day in years. It had been the last time that he had spoken to Neah (who he desperately missed. Neah had known him - completely known him, including everything he had hidden from everyone else - and still accepted him. He could really use Neah's insults and too-true-statements and I-know-how-you-think-so-I'll-just-cut-right-to-the-heart-of-it right now. Fuck, he'd never realised just how much he'd relied on that in his last life.), he'd died mere hours later. Executed as a Traitor by an organisation he'd fought - and ended- a war for. Killed by people - he'd trusted above everything - he had thought were his friends.
The actual execution - that was a recurring nightmare, one that haunted his dreams a couple times every month. Even the months he'd spent (in exile) on the run starred frequently in his dreams. But the hours (days, weeks, months) before? That time spent in almost complete isolation, shackled in a dark, stone, cold cell in the dungeons of the Order. Where his only links to sanity were Crown Clown and Neah. (And Crown Clown couldn't actually talk to him.) Those- those Rikuo tried not to think of.
In a great many ways, that solitude was far worse than the betrayal of his friends.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose.
Looking up, Rikuo caught the intent (worried. Curious. Calculating.) eyes of his grandfather.
He opened his mouth (to lie. To deflect. To say that he didn't want to talk about it.) and -
~I'm sorry~
~This isn't your fault Neah.~
~It isn't yours either Allen.~
-couldn't.
Once his confidents had been his uncle and his Innocence. They'd looked after him in the dark times. Now, both were gone - ripped from him on the executioners block. In the years since then, he'd gained a new family - one that he trusted. But he'd never taken that final step with them, never properly confided in them. (Once bitten. Twice shy.)
Maybe, just maybe, he should try.
(This isn't your fault Allen. You deserve to be able to trust without expecting a knife to the back. You shouldn't have to be suspicious of your allies. You shouldn't have to fight and kill and lie just to survive. You deserve to live. If you remember nothing else, remember this Allen. You deserve to be loved. Trust people - even if it means that you might get hurt. Don't blame yourself for everything. Live and love and learn and have a family Allen. Fight for what you believe in and trust your instincts. Remember that I am so proud of you and that I will always love you nephew, and that I apologise for what I'm about to do but there is no way that you would agree to this otherwise. Good luck, Allen.)
Swallowing, he pressed back against the wall, eyes fixed on his hands. "I hate silence sometimes. When I'm outside or there are people around then it's not so bad, but when it gets cold and dark and there's nobody around I hate it. Reminds me too much of the days before my execution I suppose…"
Rikuo wouldn't tell him everything. Couldn't, even if he wanted to. But he could tell him enough. And, maybe, when his father woke up he'd tell him a bit more.
-Love-
Love is one of the greatest forces in the universe.
Wars are waged and ended due to love, people killed, lived saved, homes destroyed. Love can make the impossible possible.
(That doesn't make it hurt any less.)
Allen was a cynic. A pragmatist and a pessimist. He was always careful of who he love because he had already been burnt. ("Mana, please, come back to me Mana!" "You did this to me, Allen. You cursed me!" "Mana! Please, no, I'm sorry. I love you. I didn't mean-") Still, eventually he had opened his heart again to his friends - comrades, people who he trusted above all else, people he'd give his life for - only to be bitten once more. He didn't try again. (Didn't have the chance to.)
(~Everything ends. And it's always sad.~)
Rikuo was a pessimist. Always watching for reasons, never being able to believe in the best of people. He didn't want to trust - love- anyone again. Didn't want to take that risk again. (He was already broken. To be betrayed - murdered - by those he loved again would shatter him. Rikuo didn't want anyone to have that sort of power over him. Not again.) But, eventually, without him realising it, people managed to worm their way back into his heart. (Kaa-san, Tou-san, Jii-san, Zen, Kubinashi, the Clan. There were all his.) For the first time in years, Rikuo found himself loving others (trusting others) and being loved in return. Unconditionally.
(~But everything begins again too, and that's always happy.~)
So, Rikuo-who-was-once-Allen would keep walking. He'd make Neah proud and protect his new family. He wouldn't waste this last chance at happiness.
(~Be happy.~)
(~I'll look after everything else.~)
-Luxury-
"There is a war coming." It was Rikuo who spoke, kneeling eyes closed beside his grandfather. The members of the Clan Council were seated around them.
The room was filled with murmurs of agreement and discontent - though most of the Yokai had their eyes fixed on the 13-year-old heir of the Nura Clan.
"You do not seem surprised."
He sighed and opened his eyes. Old eyes stared back at them from a deceptively young face, features twisted in a bitter grimace. "Because I'm not. Peace is a luxury. A luxury that we seem to have run out of."
Nobody commented on his words of appearance, despite a few wanting to. By now, his unique circumstances were known by the majority of the Clan, even if only a few knew beyond the bare basics.
"And who will lead us? You? A mere child. We will be laughed at!"
Though they still found things to complain about. Urgh. Rikuo had a headache. "Don't worry. They won't even notice me. One look at you and they'll be too busy laughing their arses off to defend themselves against us. Easy as stealing."
Nurarihyon sighed. "Does the sarcasm help?"
"Wouldn't it be a great universe if it did? Fucking bastard."
"Rikuo!" His grandfather glared at him before turning the look on the rest of the room.
As talk turned to war preparations and arguing, Rikuo kept mostly silent. Listening and only offering ideas if needed.
He had never wanted to sit in a war council again.
Peace was, indeed, a luxury - but it was one that he would sorely miss.
-Courageous-
Courage isn't the absence of fear. Courage is fighting through that fear and acting anyway.
Rikuo was terrified.
It wasn't obvious - years at war (years on the streets, the months leading up to his execution, the Order, the Noah, the Earl, Cross) had taught him never to show that sort of weakness. But, if you knew him well, it was clear as day.
(It was in the way he ran his blade along the whetstone. In the way that his hands were too steady. In the way that his eyes were sharp and his movements sleek.
He was scared. And his past had taught him to always be prepared. So that is what he did.)
But that was okay.
Fear can make you faster, and cleverer, and stronger. It sharpens your reflexes and heightens your instincts and gives you what you need to survive. It doesn't have to make you cruel or cowardly, fear can make you kind.
And courage, courage is a peculiar kind of fear.
-Endless-
The war between the Noah and the Black Order had seemed endless.
For millennia it raged, one side gaining ground on the other only for the equilibrium to ultimately be restored.
A war between two small, powerful, groups with the whole planet as the battlefield. People died (and rose again, to fight for the other side) and children screamed and cried (streets ran red with blood. Innocents forced to fight due to a quirk of fate. The enemy could be anyone, anywhere, someone you trusted yesterday wasn't safe today. No one was safe). Whole countries were lost as collateral damage.
(It's odd for Rikuo to think about the fact that, in his old world, the country he now lived in was a graveyard. It had been destroyed many years before Allen's birth and had still shown no signs of being habitable at the time of his death.)
It had been Allen to end the war. (Who else but the boy born of both sides, never accepted by either, with a prophecy resting the weight of the world on his shoulders.) Who else could have brought an end to the endless cycle but the Destroyer of Time.
(For what can war, but endless war, still breed.)
-Horrific-
Nura Rikuo had been born with a horrific birthmark. It was like a burn - most concentrated on the centre of his torso and his left shoulder before fading outwards, covering the majority of his upper body. Bright red when he had been born, it had eventually faded to a colour just a shade lighter than his skin tone - making it difficult to see if you didn't already know that it was there.
Nobody had known what to make of the vivid birthmark on the, otherwise completely healthy, young heir. It didn't seem to cause him any discomfort or pain so the Clan ultimately put it out of their minds.
(A legend says that birthmarks show you how you died in your previous life)
One day, more than a decade in the future, when Rikuo finally speaks of his first death (of how they had torn his Innocence - his left arm- from his body, of how they had then used innocence, something that had always protected him, to kill him - triggering his Noah blood in order to force his body to transform, only to stab him in the centre of his torso. Of how they had left the blade there as he had burned and disintegrated from the inside out.) Nurarihyon regrets that choice.
(Legend was right.)
-Burning-
When he's twelve, Rikuo starts answering the questions of how he died with, "I burned."
(By this point in time the majority of the clan knows that he was an old soul. Those that ask are never those that know him well, those who do prefer to wait for him to offer information on his old life. They know enough to know that it's best not to ask because they probably won't like the answer.)
It's the truth. He burned. Dark Matter and Innocence do not mix well - Crown Clown and Neah had chosen to work together to keep him alive, preventing the volatile substances within his body from attacking each other. Without Crown Clown (they took him from me! He's always been there for me and now he's not and what am I meant to do? I can't feel him anymore!) Allen had no longer had that protection.
They had executed him as they would any Noah.
Innocence.
It had been Kanda and Mugen in the end. (And that burned nearly as much as the innocence. He and Kanda had never gotten along, their personalities differed too much, but he had still trusted him. Allen hadn't thought that Kanda had hated him that much. Had never thought that Kanda would kill him.) A blade in the back. (Metaphorically and literally.)
Mugen attacked the Dark Matter in his bloodstream, in his very DNA, burning and erasing and destroying and disintegrating. Every part of his body was on fire even though there were no flames, even as he desperately tried to move away - bound in place by the Innocence-forged chains that burned his wrists.
He hadn't even bothered to hold in his screams. Allen had screamed and burnt and bled until his heart gave out. Until there was cool, blissful, peace.
Allen had died burning. Rikuo was born with the evidence of that.
It's the truth. He burned. He just, lets them draw their own conclusions after that.
-Record-
Bookmen were record keepers. They travelled from conflict to conflict, from war to war, documenting the events that came to pass. Never becoming emotionally involved, never getting invested, never fighting for either side. Always neutral.
Lavi was an exception - as an Accommodator during one of the worst recorded periods of the war, he had no choice. The Black Order would have forced him to fight, no matter the consequences. They couldn't afford the loss of his Innocence - not when the number of accommodators was so low. Bookman Senior knew this, and so allowed him to fight.
This didn't stop Lavi from being Bookman's apprentice. It didn't stop him from being a Bookman.
The Black Order seemed to forget this.
Rikuo-who-was-once-Allen never had.
Allen had never expected Lavi to stand up for him. Even though they were friends, even though he trusted the other with his back, even though he'd give his life for Lavi and he knew that the other would do the same for him. Lavi was a Bookman first. (Before he was a friend. Before he was an accommodator. Before he was a soldier. Or a pawn. Before he was even Lavi. He was a Bookman.) No matter how much he trusted, and genuinely liked, the man - Allen had never forgotten that. Which was part of the reason why they had made such good friends.
So Allen had never felt betrayed by the fact that Lavi didn't try to speak up for him (didn't try to save him) because he knew Lavi.
The Bookmen were only there to record the war. No matter how much Lavi may have wanted to save a friend.
-Momentary-
Rikuo had always lived by two mantras.
'Keep Walking'. Don't let anything force you to stop, always move on because if you don't then you'll break. Mana had taught him that in those fleeting months that they'd had had together all those years ago.
(Was it really only a few months? His time with Mana had shaped his whole life afterwards, had given him his name and an identity and a cause and a brief childhood to look back on. Those months had been everything to him once upon a time.)
'Live in the moment'. Allen had never been sure where, exactly, he had picked that one up from - it seemed as though he'd known it forever. Maybe he'd heard it from someone during his time on the streets. It made sense. You had to focus on the moment - you couldn't change the past and you can't predict the future, the only way to survive was to focus on the here-and-now. Life was momentary. Happiness was fleeting. Peace was short-lived. Everything passes you by eventually. If you constantly fixate on the past or future then you would miss everything.
(But you should never try to forget your past, no matter how much you want to. Rikuo knew that now. He'd tried. He even mostly succeeded. And it had nearly cost the lives of both him and his father.
The past was there for a reason. Rikuo would never make that mistake again.)
-Beacon-
Neah had once joked that Allen was a beacon for dangerous situations. At the time he'd laughed it off, he was an exorcist, of course he was always in dangerous situations - they practically searched them out.
Now, Rikuo-who-had-once-been-Allen was more inclined to believe him. Normal people didn't get into half the trouble that he seemed to get into just by freaking existing.
It was as though they were fucking attracted to him. The yokai situations he didn't mind so much - he was the heir of the Nura Clan, he lived on Clan territory, it was his duty to sort those situations out. They were even expected - especially with the Second Head of the Clan out of commission and with a quarter yokai child as the current heir.
No, the yokai situations didn't bother him. The human ones, however, did.
Someone gets mugged while he's walking past an alleyway. Someone pulls a knife and tries to rob the supermarket while he's there. A car chase that just happens to cut down a road that he'd been trying to cross. An attempted kidnapping while he's out at the park with friends.
(His luck had never been this bad. Seriously. It was like he was Miranda.)
For fucks sake! All he wanted to be able to do was leave the bloody compound without something happening.
Why the hell did he have to be such a trouble beacon?
-Fog-
Remembering was a lot like waking up. Like fog was being cleared from his mind.
The memories didn't rush into his head. There was no sudden realisation. No click in his mind before the world suddenly opened up to him. There was no shock that he'd been reincarnated because, subconsciously, he'd always known. The memories had always been there, he just couldn't access them.
It was nothing like that because Rikuo had simply never forgotten.
In the end, it was as simple as breathing. As normal as the beating of his heart - no thought involved, no feelings, it just happened.
One moment he was just Nura Rikuo - extremely odd quarter yokai heir of the Nura Clan, the kid who seemed to have an old soul, who had odd birthmarks covering the majority of his body, and who sometimes woke up screaming from nightmares he didn't remember. A beat of a heart. The next moment he was still Rikuo - he just recognised that he'd once been Allen as well.
It was like when you know something - something that you could understand and explain to others - but you didn't know that actual name for it. When someone tells you, you just sort of register it and then file it away as not really important - you already know everything about it after all, what difference will knowing the name of it make.
He didn't stop being Rikuo: he didn't scream, or collapse, or cry out in pain, or stumble, or swear. He just breathed.
He blinked.
Everything cleared - like going from half-asleep to fully awake in a moment - and Rikuo-who-had-been-Allen shrugged and carried on.
-Beast-
There were days that Rikuo couldn't stand looking at himself in the mirror. Days were even the slightest glance caused anger and disgust to surge, were it made his stomach roll and forced bile to rise up the back of his throat.
Those were the days were his memories weighed heavily on his mind - ash clogging his nose, the taste of iron in his mouth, red staining his hands, and images of the broken corpses of his family crowding behind his eyelids.
Eyes were the window to the soul. And, on those days, his eyes practically screamed his past back at him.
Allen hated seeing how badly they'd broken him.
The Black Order had picked him up and torn him to shreds, destroying him. They'd turned him in to a man who could and would tear his own family apart for the sake of peace, who'd become so used to walking past the desecrated corpses of children that he didn't even blink twice. They'd made him feel obligated to fight in a war that wasn't his (he was a Noah, even if they'd never accept him. He could have been neutral.), had let him depend on and (partially) trust them before tearing it all away from him.
The Order had trained and twisted and conditioned him in ways that he'd never even noticed at the time. Some he hadn't even noticed until years later when speaking to others.
Some days, Allen looked into the mirror and the beast that they'd made him into stared back.
On those days, he hated mirrors.
-Crimson-
In his Yokai form, Rikuo's eyes were crimson.
The crimson of his scar - his last remaining link to Mana, a prominent reminder of what he did to him. (The crimson of Mana's curse, forcing him to see the souls of akuma - protecting him and torturing him at the same time. A reminder of his sins and what he was fighting for.)
The crimson of Lavi's hair - the one friend who he had trusted above all of the others, the only one he truly connected with. Who hadn't betrayed him in the end, who had believed him even if he could do nothing about it. (The crimson of Cross, the bastard who had taken him in despite not needing to - who had trained him, even while piling debt after debt on him. Who had let him be himself just a little.)
As crimson as all of the fresh blood he had seen spilled over the course of the war - all of the innocent lives lost in a pointless conflict, all of the children sacrificed to the ongoing insanity of two groups.
Nura Rikuo's eyes were crimson. They represented all of the blood he had spilled, all the mistakes that he'd made, everything that he both did and didn't want to remember.
His eyes were a window to his past. And his past was dyed crimson with blood.
-Warm-
Rikuo sat, smile on his lips, surrounded by his family and his friends - people who he trusted above all else, who he could be himself with. Listening to their voices and arguments and laughter and fights.
As Allen, he had never had anything like this.
Mana had loved him, true, but most days he'd lived half in his own memories. Even when he was fully awake and aware, they had been too focused on surviving and traveling to properly connect with each other. Maybe if they'd had more time together, Allen could have had that sort of bond with Mana, but they had still been getting to know each other when Mana fell ill. His death had broken the boy who had only just gained a family.
He'd spent years with Cross, but he'd never fully trusted the man. Oh, he trusted him to teach him well enough, but not with his life and certainly not with his heart. Allen had always known that Cross had his own agenda, the bastard had never made any secret that he'd picked him up for a reason. While they had put up with each other, they would never have liked each other.
At the order, Allen had thought that he'd finally found something like a family again. With Lavi and Lenalee and Kanda and Komui and everyone. He may not have fully trusted any of them (but Allen had never fully trusted anyone, not even Mana. Neah was the closest that anyone had gotten - Neah who knew him and loved him and cared for him despite everything, he'd trusted Neah above all else. But he could never fully trust Neah's sanity.) but they'd bonded through battle and near-death experiences and similar circumstances, and once upon a time Allen would have said that they'd cared for him. That had changed when they found out about him being the Fourteenth. (Kanda who held his murder weapon, Lenalee who watched with a smirk, Komui who stood and did nothing, Lavi who could do nothing. All had ignored his screams.)
Even beforehand there had never been any time to just stop and take comfort in each other's presence. He and Lavi had had something similar but it wasn't the same.
No, this was something that he hadn't had as Allen.
He hadn't known the warm contentedness and happiness that being surrounded by those who he cared about caused. Couldn't take comfort in knowing that they were there and everyone was safe, even for a moment.
As Rikuo, he had found that home was warm.
-Amuse-
"Hey Tou-san, Jii-san." Rikuo said as he ambled into his father's room.
"Rikuo." Nura Rihan was sitting up in bed, propped up against a pile of pillows as his atrophied muscles couldn't hold him upright for long at the moment. The old man was sitting in a chair next to the bed, and the two yokai had been quietly talking as he'd entered the room.
Perching on the end of the bed, Rikuo grinned at the both of them - still riding on the high of his father finally waking up.
"So, Zen told me to tell you that you're not going to be up to moving for at least a few hours - not until those drugs he has you on at the minute clear your system. After that, it's going to be physiotherapy to build up your muscles again - the yokai blood helped to minimise the eutrophication but years of bed rest combined with minimal stimulation and a liquid diet take their toll eventually. It's going to be a while before you're up and about properly." Rihan grimaced as the thought of being stuck in bed for even longer - Rikuo rolled his eyes at the, expected, reaction.
"I've been told to find a way to amuse you so you don't try to get out of that bed before Zen gets here. Since we have a couple hours, story time! How about I tell you about that time that Komui (crazy scientist, I'll tell you more later) managed to de-age Kanda (total prat, liked swords, anger issues) and turn Lavi (good friend, funny, liked history, wore an eyepatch) is some sort of marshmallow hybrid. At the same time. Yes? Awesome. So, here's what happened…"
There were still people to fight, still people gunning for the Clan. They still hadn't solved exactly who had been behind the incident that caused his father's near-death all those years ago. They needed to recover and prepare for the storm that was bound to be coming. But, talking with his father and his grandfather, Rikuo was happy.
(For the first time in a long time, he was settled.)
Everything else could wait a few hours.
-End-
So, 28 drabbles - one for each day in February. Hope you like them. Sorry for not posting anything in a while. The idea just sorta came to me at some point in January, and when I decided to do a random word drabble series thing as a way to try to get back into writing - well, this practically screamed at me. Inspired by Firetan over on AO3 and Freefan1412's fic which is actually what got me back into this fandom. Not in chronological order, completely ignoring the whole Mana-is-the-Earl thing (which I'm sort annoyed I forgot about, think of the angst! It would've been amazing) but tell me which is your favourite.
Thanks for reading,
CharlotteDaBookworm