Evil Town
Chapter Two
Dirty Business
A/N: Once again, I would like to give a big thank-you to Mala Suerte for reviewing the last chapter. Your input is very valuable to me. I apologize if there are any mistakes in this chapter; I wrote half of it in the middle of the night and the other half when I was running purely on caffeine. Also, please note that there is a reason Yuki seems so out of character in this chapter, and it is relevant to the plot and will soon be explained. I'm not going to simply alter his personality with no explanation. And sorry about all the brand names mentioned in this chapter, I usually hate it when books do that. But I was trying to keep this realistic (Well, as realistic as you can keep a fantasy genre fanfiction), and even the most anti-mainstream teenager occasionally thinks about brand names.
Disclaimer: The title of this chapter comes from the name of a song by The Dresden Dolls. Truly awesome band, and Dirty Business is one of my favorites of their songs. I highly recommend it.
1
Yuki stares wide-eyed at the orange-haired teen sprawled out on the white-tiled school floor in front of him. Well, what do you know? he thinks. It actually worked. I'd better thank Haru. Kyo is extremely pale, a sharp contrast to his… energetic hair. His eyelids are tightly clamped shut, as though they are his last line of defense against the being that has been forced to fight him.
Thanks, Yuki tells the creature taking refuge within the dark corners of his own mind.
The creature sends a powerful jolt of energy through Yuki in response, almost causing him to double over. The boy isn't sure what to take that to mean, but then again, the creature probably isn't thrilled to the gills at being forced into slavery for him. But it doesn't really matter what its opinions are, it's thanks to me that its even here, rationalizes Yuki coldly.
Kyo twitches on the floor, and Yuki feels a sort of sick glee at witnessing his weakness. For a second he experiences an overwhelming desire to kick the helpless teen as hard as possible, but Yuki refrains and the impulse passes.
Tohru is cradling Kyo's head in her arms. "I- I'm not sure what's wrong with him!" she cries out. "I've never seen anything like this before, he must be really sick or something…"
Seeing Tohru, his new friend, his ally, like this, Yuki feels the need to appease her. But how can she be worried about that guy? He's a complete jerk, and didn't she see what he tried to do to me? But he says, "I'm sure he'll be fine, Tohru. He tends to recover quickly from things." Whether anyone wants him to or not, Yuki adds mentally.
"But… what's w-wrong with him?" she asks, desperately looking around herself.
"A lot of things, none of which are medical. He's probably just not feeling well," says Yuki. It is obviously a major understatement, as Kyo is appears to be catatonic and experiencing some sort of… attack. Yes, that's the perfect word.
"Students, please clear out. This is none of your business, either go into a classroom or outside to eat you lunch," orders a booming voice. The crowd thins out and a young woman with a no-nonsense tone approaches the unconscious teenager. She looks to be in her mid-twenties, with long blond hair tied back in a ponytail. "He'll have to rest for a while," she mutters.
Realizing they are the only conscious students still in the halls, Yuki beckons Tohru to come outside with him.
The chatter of students fills the schoolyard, but an awkward silence falls over the two of them as they take seats at a bench shaded by a large oak tree. They absentmindedly watch a game of basketball being played by some guys in their last year here. Yuki begins to eat his lunch, a Subway sandwich, with the same disinterest, almost like he is in a daze. He looks at Tohru and sees she is eating soba and sushi, traditional Japanese food. Yuki normally doesn't like that kind of thing, but this time he finds himself asking politely, "May I please have a piece of sushi?"
"Oh! Sure," says Tohru. "I brought extra, so help yourself." She hands him a pair of chopsticks and he takes them, clumsily maneuvering them to pick up a lump of sticky rice with egg on top – it's called Tamago or something, if he recalls correctly. At first he only plans to take one piece, but when he sees she really did bring extra - at least enough to feed three or four people – he helps himself to a few more.
"This is really good. Did you make it?" he asks.
"Yes, and thank you so much!" says Tohru.
"That's incredible!" says Yuki sincerely.
"Thanks," says Tohru distantly. She looks off into space and silence falls between them again.
"I'm sure he'll be okay,' says a voice. Tohru and Yuki both look up and realize it is Marcus Ling talking. He takes a seat – uninvited, Yuki notices – on the bench with them, opposite Tohru. "Kyo, I mean," he adds.
"Thank you, I'm- I'm glad. H-how do you know, though? Um, wow, I'm really stuttering a lot, uh, aren't I?" says Tohru with a nervous smile.
"That you are," says Marcus with a grin. "I just kind of know, he's been my friend for a long time and he's been through worse." He shoots Yuki a quick death-glare. "So, you're the new girl, right?"
"Er, yeah. I'm Tohru Honda."
"It's nice to meet you. Marcus Ling, I'm in Aizawa's science and math classes."
"Oh, that's cool," says Tohru.
He chuckles slightly. "No, not really. They're the advanced classes so I'm basically flunking them. I wouldn't have signed up, but the teachers practically forced me to. The logic was something like "Hey, you're Asian and wear glasses? You must be smart. What? You want to be in regular classes? Don't be silly, you have so much potential!" So, what classes are you in, anyway?"
"Just the regular ones," Tohru blushes. "School's not really my thing. Would you like some sushi?"
"That's a nice offer, but I'm not really hungr - hey, is that Subway? Er, could I have that?" he requests sheepishly.
"Go ahead," grants Yuki, suddenly losing his appetite.
2
Kyo feels himself drift in and out of consciousness, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his world engulfed in darkness throughout the entire ordeal. He's not sure what's going on in the world around him, and not sure he wants to know. Memories are interwoven with dreams into a confusing yet mesmerizing design, and he's not sure he wants to leave the security of the dreamscape. Reality has the tendency to suck majorly.
After much internal debating, he manages to convince himself to crack open an eye. When he does, the site he takes in is unfamiliar and cold. A white room, relatively small, and exceptionally sanitary-looking. He's in a bed with rough white sheets thrown over him, and there are more beds set out but from what he can tell, his is the only one occupied. Then again, there appear to be places in the room his eyes can't quite reach from the position he is in, and he doesn't want to shift around as his head hurts like hell.
A figure steps out of a corner and into Kyo's line of vision, confirming his suspicions. The orange-haired teen can't quite get his vision to focus –he keeps going cross-eyed and his perspectives overlap – but judging by the vague outline of the person, it seems to be Ian. He's a pretty short guy, with a shock of dirty-blond hair that is always sticking up like a cloud perched atop his head. "Hey, he's awake!" observes the guy – yeah, definitely Ian.
John follows suit and steps out of the unseen place. "Yo, Hirozuka. You feeling okay?" he inquires.
"Not great, but I'll manage," says Kyo. He tries to grin, but the room seems to be pulsating and he winces against his will. "Uh, is there any way I could get some migraine meds?"
"Dude, I'm sorry but I don't have any on me and I sorta doubt the teachers would give us any. You know how fucking strict they are about that stuff," says John with an apologetic smile.
"Dammit! Well, I guess I'll get some at home then. I mean, or is lunch break over?" asks Kyo. Being out of it has left him rather disoriented, and he can't quite place the time lapse. It feels really late, like the middle of the night, but that's ridiculous. Shit, this migraine is fucking exhausting.
Ian laughs a bit, and says, "Man. School's over. You've been passed out for like three hours."
"What?" exclaims Kyo. Are they kidding me? Dammit! Something occurs to him, and he adds, "So why haven't you guys left yet?"
"Well, we wanted to see how you were. Plus Ian had detention over some shit he pulled, so he had to stay anyway for that. And me…" he trails off and a look of… rage? That or something else equally intense fills his eyes. "Well, I just didn't feel like going straight home," he concludes.
Kyo knows better than to press the issue, being able to relate. "So, should I just leave now?" Seriously, what's he supposed to do? There doesn't even seem to be a school nurse or anything of that nature around.
"You probably have to fill out some forms and crap, since you passed out and all. Dude, what was that?" says Ian.
"Huh? What do you mean?" asks Kyo.
"I mean," clarifies Ian, "why did you pass out for three hours? Do you have like a condition or something?"
"What? No!" says Kyo, bemused. Then the memories start rushing back to him, things he'd seen flashes of in his dreams. And he cannot honestly answer Ian's question, so he just says, "I was probably just sleep deprived or something."
"It was the weirdest thing, man. You were all pissed off at Aizawa, and he said some stuff – I couldn't hear it, you know how quiet he talks, but it really must have bothered you 'cause you started yelling at him. So you pushed him against a wall, and then just passed out in the middle of the hall. People were pretty worried about you, but the teacher's refused to take questions. It was pretty damn frustrating for us, but we couldn't really do anything besides wait. And now… we've waited," concludes John.
So Yuki had gone through with his stupid, selfish plan. And it would appear he's succeeded. Not good. Really. Fucking. Not. Good.
"So what were you arguing about anyway?" pesters Ian.
Kyo sighs. "It's kinda a long story, but the gist of it is that he… he did something to me, just a total show of disrespect. I don't have to put up with his crap, and I wanted him to realize that."
His friends nod. "Well, I guess I can see why you were pissed at him. I wouldn't tolerate it either if he was doing stuff to me. But… dude, you were really intense about it," says John.
"Believe me. I wasn't any harder on him then he deserved." In fact, Kyo decides, I should probably find him and finish what I left off.
3
As it turns out, Kyo doesn't have to fill out any forms, as a visit to the school office confirms. Surprisingly, the school administrators don't even mention punishing him for fighting, they merely ask if he is feeling alright and suggest that he see a doctor. Kyo brushes off their concerns with an "Uh huh" and "Yeah, I will. Sure." In reality, he feels like crap and has no plans to meet with a physician any time soon. He's had enough experience with them to pinpoint them as just another group of people who want to ask him awkward questions and meddle in his life. Yeah, no thank you.
So, he thinks. This is how they treat the losers here.
After sending John and Ian to walk ahead of him – he doesn't feel much up to conversation due to his headache and the questions his friends are bound to ask that he knows he can't answer – Kyo dons his backpack and starts to walk home. He absentmindedly notes the slight scraping sound his orange Converse shoes make each time they come down upon the pavement. He puts on his headphones and turns his mp3 player on and up to almost maximum volume, attempting to drown his migraine out with the raging chants and fast guitar rifts of some songage. His plan backfires, and his brain just throbs along with the beat. Yet somehow he doesn't want to turn off the music, maybe just because it feels so refreshing to hear his anger translated from abstract thought to almost-tangible words.
It is during these musings that he feels something long and metal entangle itself with his legs. He stumbles at the unexpected – trap? – and trips. Thanks to his martial arts training, his reflexes are attuned enough for him to catch himself, albeit clumsily. He scrapes both palms against the concrete in the process, and he examines them to see some bits of grit embedded in them and a few drops of blood already starting to slip through the cuts in his skin. Thankfully not a serious injury, but fuck if it doesn't hurt.
His headphones have yanked free of his music device but remain on his head, the cord dangling uselessly in the air. What the hell was that thing he'd tripped over anyway? He turns around and examines the ground around where the accident, or whatever it was, had happened. There are no large metal things anywhere in the vicinity. In fact, there's not much of anything in the vicinity, save for the bone-white pavement of the sidewalk and the flecks of dirt and sand that seems to perpetually spread themselves over the city.
His eyes fall upon a single piece of paper, torn and grimy, strewn haphazardly in the middle of his path, like someone walking home from school had accidentally dropped it a while ago. But Kyo doesn't allow himself the luxury of assuming that. His thoughts come to an entirely different conclusion, one that bestows him with a feeling of increasing anxiety.
He exhales a string of profanities, barely audible but extremely vulgar. He bends down and reached out with a shaking hand to turn over the paper, since the face-up side is blank. As soon as he touches it, the sheet starts to writhe like a tortured creature. It sends out what appear to be black sparks, like thick, shiny black ashes. Those ashes cling to his hand where he touched the page, and the spot across his skin like an ink stain on paper, forming patterns like a tattoo. A weird, full body tattoo that looks vaguely like the patterns on doilies.
He recognizes it as not simply a pattern, but letters. Spelling out the word trapped.
A Tracker's trap.
Kyo attempts half-heartedly to escape, slowly and carefully reaching out a hand in front of him. Sure enough, the moment it is a few feet ahead of his body, a small flash of white light darts out from the ground and up in front of him, wriggling like a demented lizard as it moves. It connects with his hand before he can pull it away, and it has a cold metallic feel to it. He continues to test out his boundaries using this method for a moment, coming to the conclusion that he seems to be in a spherical prison with enough space to stand or to sit crossed-legged, but not enough space to pace around. Well, that just takes to whole point out of being captive, doesn't it?
"I doubt you'll listen to this, knowing how hardheaded you Trackers tend to be, but I know you're there and I think you should know: I'm not the one you're looking for," he says, apparently to the air or the empty road or the blank stares of the facades of houses. There is no response, but it's not like he expected one. At least, not a civil one.
A shape – humanoid, but it's moving too fast and it's too dark for Kyo to be certain of much else - steps into view, as though the person had been concealed by a fold in the air. The figure circles him from a distance, still moving at the same frantic pace, but with movements lithe and fluid.
The person is wearing a black toque and dark, baggy clothing, Kyo notices upon squinting. He can't see any weapons, but he knows from experience that the Tracker is probably armed to the teeth. Sure enough, as the person comes closer it – he? - slides a hand into a pocket in his black jeans. Kyo can't help but feel rather awed by the haunting beauty of the way his form blends against the grey sky like some macabre shadow.
His eyes meet with those of his assailant, and he is shocked at the recognition that sparks between them.
"Woah. Kyo?" says a surprised voice, familiar from just earlier that day.
4
"Did it work?" inquires Haru in his usual indifferent, distant monotone. Sort of like the way Marcus talks sometimes, ponders Yuki. Marcus. The thought of that creep makes his blood run cold. He really does not want to think about anything related to Marcus Ling right now.
"Perfectly," says Yuki. "Thanks."
"You don't seem very happy," observes Haru. The two are meeting in the usual place, the hidden alley of Yuki's school, which will be Haru's school too next year
Well, why would I be? That stupid Ling just ruined my day, hasn't he? I should really get revenge on him. Show Tohru that he's weak and worthless, just like that Hirozuka. He's an enemy. If I leave him alone he'll come and get me. I can't allow him to get me. I have to stop him. "That has nothing to do with this, Haru. It's just something that happened at school." After they had finished eating lunch, Marcus had offered Tohru a tour of the school grounds. She had accepted and Yuki had tagged along, feeling like – no, knowing he was a third wheel.
"Are you sure, Yuki?" Haru's strange, beautiful eyes are filled with concern.
"Yes, I'm sure," Yuki snaps.
"You know, you should let me take his spirit out of you now, Yuki. You've scared Kyo, he won't bother you again," Haru murmurs soothingly. He reaches out a jewelry-covered hand and runs it through Yuki's long silvery hair.
Yuki draws back and hisses, "No. I need it – I need him. I haven't got my revenge yet. Not yet."
"Yuki, he's hurting you. This isn't who you are, he's taking over. If you don't let me remove him, you could change permanently."
"What would you know? Why should you even care?" demands Yuki bitingly.
"Because I love you, and I care about you. Don't change. Please," Haru pleads, his eyes full of pain.
"You're jealous! You don't want me to get stronger.'
"Yuki…"
"No! I'm leaving. I don't need you," he spits. "I don't want you, and I don't want your love either." Haru stares after him as he runs off into the dusk, too fast for the younger teen to follow except with his eyes, and soon they cannot go where he is either.
5
"Izzy, right?" says Kyo as means of greeting.
"Yeah," she responds, taking her toque off and raking a hand through her wild hair before jamming both hat and hands into the pockets of her too-big black skater hoodie. "Kyo. Whoa, I was really not expecting this," she comments.
"Tell me about it," mutters Kyo. You'd think I'd be able to go at least one day without being attacked by both a demon and a demon slayer.
"Though looking back on it, it does explain a lot of things," continues Izzy, and Kyo realizes she's talking to herself rather than him. "So," She says, this time clearly addressing him, "I'm pretty unclear as to how I'm supposed to proceed when something like this happens. Man, am I supposed to fight you or am I considered biased, like in those court cases, or what?" she asks conversationally. Her wide, eyeliner lined… well, eyes examine him quizzically. She seems to be partially joking… which means she's partly serious, deduces Kyo. Then again, it is a valid question, although he can't think of a stranger way possible of putting it.
"Look, you don't actually need to fight me," he attempts to explain. "I'm not your enemy."
"But you admit… you are a demon," she points out.
"Hey, it's not like that was my choice! And besides, I'm only part demon. Like, a really small part. Not really enough to have much effect on my behaviors and stuff, or even to give me special powers or anything cool like that. I'm really a pretty normal guy."
"Wow," says Izzy, and she laughs.
"What's so funny?" demands Kyo.
"You are just so… desperate."
"Desperate? What?"
"Yeah. To be, you know, normal. You don't even want to explain in any detail about your demonicity. Is that a word, anyway? Whateve', that's besides the point. But yet you go around acting all aloof and picking fights and collapsing in hallways. That's not exactly normal human behavior, and I doubt it's normal for demons either. Then again, I'm new to this so I wouldn't know."
"Is this little conversation going anywhere?" raises Kyo. He knows it's rude, but she still hasn't released him from the little ball she's got him trapped in, and that's hardly proper etiquette either.
"No, not really. But wait, do you have like a permit or something that says you're allowed to be a demon, and be free and stuff?"
"Not an actual permit, but I am allowed to exist. As I said, I'm just a really small part demon, so it basically doesn't affect me. I'm a normal – sorry, forgot you didn't like that word – person."
"Well then, how come you got caught in my trap?"
"Because… well, it's a long story."
"Tell it. We've got time."
Maybe you do, but I actually have a life, thinks Kyo spitefully. But he sits down on the hard pavement, folds his legs into a pretzel-shape, and begins speaking. "Sometimes, like when I get really angry or really any strong emotion, I turn into this thing. My demon form. When that happens, it kind of stays in me for a while, like even after I turn back. It's like… it's a damn curse. I can't act completely like myself until it wears off, it just takes hold of me. Like it did today and I'm guessing your demon trap picked up on it, 'cause they've never done anything to me before and I've seen 'em around campus. You might want to try better concealing them in the future."
"Thanks for the tip," she says, and he can't tell if she's being sarcastic. She examines him like a specimen under a microscope. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You sure? 'Cause you look like crap."
"Thanks," he responds disinterestedly.
She laughs. "No, I mean… You're really pale and stuff. Are you sick or something?"
"No, it's just that I was attacked –" He is cut off mid-sentence by a hair-raising shriek. He wheels around to see that red-haired girl. Damn, she's everywhere! Is she fucking stalking me?
"Sharla… uh, hi," acknowledges Izzy.
"What the hell is going on?" asks Sharla, looking terrified. She raises a shaking hand to point at Kyo, who realizes he still has the weird magic tattoo thing on him.
"Well, you see Kyo is a demon. Sorry, part demon," begins Izzy.
"What? You can't tell her that!" bursts Kyo.
"Do part-demons know any memory erasing spells?" Izzy inquires of him in a harsh whisper. Kyo shakes his head. "Do you want to get a full body tattoo in that pattern before school tomorrow?" Again, he shakes his head. "Then, since you don't have a better idea, we tell her. Besides, she's my best friend. I know her, she's not the type to rat us out to any evil creatures."
"Fine," Kyo grudgingly concedes.
"Good." Turning to Sharla and bringing her voice back to normal volume, Izzy says, "Okay, this is sort of complicated, but it's true. All of it. Just please listen and keep an open mind until I'm finished, okay?" Sharla nods, silently encouraging her friend to continue. "I'm a Tracker. It's sort of like the Slayer in Buffy. Basically, we have to track down demons and other supernatural things, like renegade spirits and dark mages. And then we either send them back to their world or get rid of them some other way."
"Like killing them for instance," Kyo chimes in acrimoniously. "For example, by locking them in magic circles and forcing them to listen to you talk for hours until they die of boredom."
"Oh yeah," Izzy apologizes, noticing Kyo is still imprisoned. "Um, can you wait a little while longer? I've never had to remove a spell before; I'll need to take a while to work out a solution. Anyway," she turns back to her friend without another word to Kyo. "There's one Tracker for each district, for lack of a better word. For a small town like this, there's just one. For a big city, there's usually several districts, since there's more people and therefore more demons and various other evil things. The Trackers communicate by writing notes to each other in their own special language, and then they just leave the notes around. They also write things in the language to cast spells, like the one Kyo has on him right now. That's what the paper on the ground is for, it has an imprisonment spell written on it. The spell is made to only affect demons so ordinary people are safe. Unless they have a lot of spiritual sense or are really in tune with their surroundings, they probably won't even notice the spells. Like when you see weird graffiti that doesn't make any sense, it could be something written in the language."
"So you're saying Hirozuka's evil?" says Sharla, voice even. Kyo can't believe she's just accepted all the things Izzy said, just like that. That is so not normal.
"No, I'm not evil. I just have really horrible luck," says Kyo through gritted teeth.
"Well, he claims he's not, but I have my doubts," says Izzy.
"Hey!" exclaims Kyo.
"Chill," she says, waving a hand dismissively. "I just find it hard to believe that one second you're trying to be my friend, and the next you're all malicious," she says to him.
'I just don't like being trapped! Is that too much to ask?"
Ignoring his remark, Izzy says to him, "Wait a minute, I think I know what's going on! The demon in you hates me, but the human part thinks I am just too cool for words."
"You are such a narcissist!" shouts Kyo.
"True, but we'll test out my theory later and I bet it'll be true. Anyway, Trackers are generally discovered and trained from a young age. The spiritual sense tends to run in families. My grandfather was also a Tracker, so I got it from him."
"So… is that it?" queries Sharla timidly.
"Well, there's actually a lot more to it that that, but yeah, that's pretty much the basics," says Izzy.
"And, I'm supposed to believe this?" the other girl exclaims incredulously.
"Well… yeah," answers Izzy.
"Told you she wouldn't," mutters Kyo.
"No… it's not that. I mean… yeah, it is hard to believe. I've never even considered something like that possible. Never in my life," says Sharla, voice quiet.
"Are you sure?" asks Izzy calmly.
"Well… yes, I think so," says Sharla.
"But you must have the spiritual sense to a fairly high degree. Otherwise, you probably wouldn't have noticed the pattern on Kyo. You would have just walked right by, thinking it was the shadows deceiving you, and you wouldn't have given it a second thought. Since you have the sense, that's why I thought it would be okay to tell you this. You were bound to find out eventually anyway. Have you ever noticed anything, like, really weird. That just seemed impossible to explain?" says Izzy quietly.
So that's her logic! Kyo realizes. She's more intelligent that I gave her credit for. The thought makes him somehow relieved.
Sharla stays quiet for so long Kyo honestly doesn't expect her to respond. He starts to work on removing and restringing his shoelaces to get the twists out of them. The ends are kind of frayed, they must have been dragging for a while. Sharla finally says, "I'll have to think about that."
"Okay," concedes Izzy.
"So tell me," says Sharla conversationally. "If Kyo's not evil, what were you trying to catch?"
"I'm not quite sure," says Izzy, her tone suddenly grave. "There's something really evil in this town. I can feel it, and all the signs point to something about to happen – or already happening."
"So, those papers you're always dropping everywhere are supposed to catch it?" says Sharla.
"Right. Supposed to. Only…" She looks embarrassedly at her feet, examining her shiny black boots. "They haven't been very effective. I doubt they're going to suddenly start working now. I need a new strategy, because at this point I'm trying to fight something and I don't even know what it looks right. If it's not Kyo, I have no clue what – or who – it is."
"I know," says Kyo. The girls look to him with interest. "It's Yuki."
