Second Chance

Dedicated to Thief (The Thief Kuronue), who wrote a request long enough to fill a eight and a half by eleven inch piece of paper. (Yes, i printed it out.) Specific much? XD

Warnings:
1) Lovely angst
2) Self-mutilation/violence implications
3) Possible OOCness (i'm not really experienced with secondary characters...)
4) No pairings? (Is that a real warning?) No shounen ai. (In my book, that is a valid warning.)

Genre: Angst and drama. i think i got the genres right this time. Yayness.

Author's notes:
1) This is my first shot at playing to a secondary character's persona. However, i'll try my best. You can't blame me for trying, ne?
2) Surnames first, given names second, as i find myself always doing now, for the satisfaction of whatever inane part of my mind that decided it was appropriate.
3) The "Demon Door's Cave," that's the term, yes? i'm going to say "Demon Gate" for simplicity and my own fingers liking the phrase.

To Thief: Go ahead and link it if you so desire. But, to be honest, with all the detail you put in there, it seems like it would have been more gratifying on your part if you wrote it yourself. Just some friendly advice, though it in no way means that i didn't want to write it. One, it gives me something to do. Two, this dedication is helping me get my hands into the secondary characters a little more. Yayness. Anyway, i changed a few things about your design, but it's the same concept. Also, i would have loved to make this longer, but i'm kind of limiting myself on how long i make these chapters, and i don't think i could extend it into two. Sorry. Hope you like.

The ticking of raindrops clashing against the window pane alerted the classroom to the beginning of another rainstorm. From his vantage point beside the window, Mitarai Kiyoshi could spare a glance out that window every few minutes and give himself a little gratification that would otherwise be absent from this ordinary day. His English book was open on the surface of his desk, half ignored as he chanced another look out to the rain. Beyond the clouds, a burst of sun was bleeding through, causing a formation that reminded him of the Japanese flag. A good omen? He hoped so, though the fact that the flag only took on such a form during times of war didn't occur to him at the moment. He gave a subdued grin before shifting his gaze back to the teacher and gave his entire attention to the lesson.

The end of class came abruptly, as absorbed into the class that Mitarai had been, and it seemed a surprise when he packed his satchel and left the school, listening as his shoes clicked against the concrete like the raindrops had against the window. Unfortunately, by this time, the storm had passed and the ground was quickly drying with the summer heat. The school year had only begun and warm weather was sure to come, bringing with it a possible lack of precipitation.¹ The prospect was a little deterring, but Mitarai tried to avoid letting it bring his mood down. He'd been depressed for far too long and wasn't about to allow such trivialities to bring his life to a halt as he once had. The lack of rain, the bullies, the classwork, he'd try to take it all in stride and refuse to allow any of it to bring him down.

After the incident with the Demon Gate and Sensui, Mitarai had taken a close look at himself and at the people around him. There were those that taunted him and tried to pick fights as often as five times a day, but there were also those that were better than that, those that cared to help others, no matter what the circumstances. There were people like the ones portrayed on the video tape Sensui had showed him snippets of—which still haunted his dreams on occasion—and there were those like his friends, like Kuwabara, especially. The human race was full of contradictions and fiends and friends and, to be honest with himself and with the world around him, Mitarai couldn't quite figure the world out. How could a place contain so many different people and opinions without collapsing? He couldn't quite comprehend it and dwelling on it often caused him a massive headache. So, in lieu of attempting to understand, he left things as they were.

"Hey, Mitarai!" a gruff voice called across the yard at him, halting his steps and causing him to pivot to spare a glance to the owner of said voice. Any good mood the rain had brought him promptly dried up like droplets on sun-heated concrete. Striding across the yard were three of the people that had plagued him relentlessly before Sensui had ever come into play, those people that aided in Mitarai's hatred of humans in general and his urge to help Sensui to eliminate the whole of the human race. "Where do you think you're going, pal?" The water manipulator was a little curious as to his restraint of language, as normally more obscene and derogatory "nicknames" were given to him. A smirk was directed to him before he turned back around and moved out into the crowded street, hoping to lose them in the tide of bodies.

It had been a couple months since the Demon Gate had been opened and closed again, since Sensui had led Kuwabara and his friends into the demon realm. Beyond that gate, Mitarai didn't know what specifically had happened. All he was aware of was that Kuwabara and his friends had come out and Sensui had not, meaning the safety of the human race was virtually secured for the time being. Not that Mitarai knew that such was exactly beneficial for the three worlds, but he wasn't about to dispute the result with his confusion.

During the months since the Demon Gate had been opened and closed, Mitarai had felt a flood of confidence in his own abilities, had felt a new rush of self-esteem wash over him like the tides of the ocean. He'd felt strong enough even to stand up to those bullies that had taunted and teased him for so long, had responded to their beatings and thrown a few of his own punches. More often than not, the fight was intercepted by a teacher or someone else of apparent authority. Only once had they backed away of their own accord, the first time that he'd hit one of them, which they'd done more from shock than anything else. After that, they'd sworn to be more vicious and aggressive, and—against all odds and expectations of them actually fulfilling a promise, despite the content of said vow—they kept their word. The result was Mitarai fleeing from the area when he caught sight of any of them. Despite the warm feelings that he felt in-between, he was in the same boat as he had been before. And it was beginning to worry his mother, he knew. He'd overheard her speaking with his sister on the matter, how he was arriving home later and later every evening and had missed several occasions that had been previously arranged. But he couldn't tell them what was happening. He couldn't worry them like that. And his jacket—hood and sleeves—did well to hide the symptoms of the abuse he suffered, not only at the hands of others.

It was in times like these that he realized how foolish he'd been in thinking he could lead a good life, that he could actually avoid physical and emotional pain at the hands of others. He listened to his breaths heave in and out as he ran down an alley, toward what he knew to be a shortcut home. He slid to a halt, finding that one of his pursuers was standing at the end of that alley. He backtracked and headed toward another alley.

What option did he have but to run or give up? How could he possibly stand up to the trauma that they would inevitably inflict on him, that the world would inevitably inflict on him? He didn't know what he'd done to the world, save the little venture with Sensui, but whatever it was surely didn't justify this interminable agony! The thoughts that raced through his mind—of death and disease; the memories he mined through night after night—the black eyes and bloody lips, the razor blade scratches he gave himself because he was too much of a coward to even cut into his fingertips anymore; the physical abuse—getting beaten and beating himself up, vomiting late at night from disgust with himself when that swollen ego he'd had before came back to haunt his depressed illusions. He couldn't fight back anymore now that he restricted himself from his water manipulating abilities. But that wasn't the extent of it. With that confusion with the world he felt, could he even bring himself to harm another being? Could he lower himself back to that level he'd been on while under Sensui's tutelage? Could he hurt another like he'd almost killed Kuwabara that night so long ago? He didn't think he could. So, what option did he have other than to run or give up? Where were the choices that humans supposedly inherently had?

A wrong turn brought Mitarai the answer to part of his question, though not really what he'd been asking. To run or to give up? It appeared he would have to give up. He pivoted to find his three pursuers behind him, while the cold, angry steel of a chain-link fence blocked his front. He was trapped between apathetic teenagers with god complexes and just as apathetic and cold metal. One cracked his knuckles before approaching. Mitarai just stood there as he came, a subtle frown on his face and a forlorn look in his cerulean eyes.

Droplets of blood fell to the ground like scarlet rain as Mitarai plummeted after the first punch, the fount being his nose, which was in enough pain for him to fool himself into thinking it broken. He slammed against the chain-link fence before his back could touch the ground, resting him in a slouched sitting position. He was kicked in the abdomen next, eliciting a harsh cough from him before he curled his arms around his torso, his daypack somewhere on the ground, abandoned. He looked up, awaiting more pain, but found his assault had come to an abrupt stop at the appearance of three figures in the mouth of the alley. One form was clearly recognizable to the water manipulator.

With his arms folded over his chest and a look of mellow disappointment in his eyes, Kuwabara watched the other, finding a look of lost desolation on his face and in his eyes. On either side of him were Kido and Yanagisawa, each glaring vehemently at Mitarai's attackers, though Kuwabara refused to allow his gaze to leave the water manipulator. It took a moment of that firm gaze, that apparent accusation in the other's eyes, that "So, you gave up that easily, huh?" look, for Mitarai to bow his head in disgrace and let a deep frown mold the contours of his face. Tears began welling in his eyes, making it impossible for him to catch the details of the fight that dispatched his pursuers. And he didn't care to listen to the verbal confrontation that had preceded it.

The trio approached the water psychic after a moment of silence, while the three bullies crawled from the ground and retreated, ignored as they did so. "You okay?" Kido asked quietly, a benign grin on his lips. Mitarai didn't care to respond. Neither did he look, nor feel okay, but it wasn't another's problem. He couldn't force his woes and trivialities on another so apathetically. They were his burdens to bear, no matter that he made it a habit to run from them. That was his method of coping, and it worked for him for the time.

"You know, sitting there isn't going to get them to leave you alone," Kuwabara muttered to him, aggravation coloring his words. "You can't let them get away with that."

"And what am I supposed to do?" he whispered bitterly in response, his eyes on the ground and wisps of his hair hiding his face and his tears. "I'm not strong or special like you all. I can't do this. What am I supposed to do?"

"Throw a punch, for starters," Yanagisawa attempted lightheartedly, receiving a scathing glare in response. He recoiled a bit, having not expected such a look on Mitarai's face. The other stated plainly that such a strategy hadn't worked. It was useless, futile, pathetic, fruitless to even attempt.

With a snort, Kuwabara told him, "It takes a long time to sink as low as you've gotten." That was true. In the beginning, Mitarai had ignored the bullies and hadn't cared about their remarks or insults. It had taken years for them to gain that stringent hold on his emotions and mental workings, to anchor themselves to his everyday life and make his decisions always affected by how it would tie into the abuse he suffered. "It takes longer to pull yourself back out. And you're the only one that can do that. You aren't going to have someone else save you forever, and keeping things as they are will only get you killed. Would you leave your family to grieve like that?" Mitarai turned a shocked look to him. "Things that affect your life don't only affect you. And we can't help you if you don't help yourself. You've got a long life ahead of you. Don't let someone else lead it."

"I can't help myself!"

"Like hell you can't! Just because you're not strong doesn't mean you can't fight back! If not with your fists, then other ways! You've seen Kurama fight once, back when Sensui was still alive! He doesn't rely on sheer brute force, he uses his mind, and you can do the same! Being strong doesn't mean you're special and vice versa. But being weak and giving up are the same. You're not weak. I know you're not. So, why the hell are you giving up?"

Without waiting for an answer, Kuwabara pivoted on his heel and left the alley. Kido and Yanagisawa each spared the water manipulator a look before leaving as well. Mitarai was left to observe as they turned the corner and sauntered away, wondering out of the blue if the sun would be shining tomorrow, or if he would see another bout of beautiful rain.

¹ i heard from a reliable source that the school year in Japan begins in April. So, i'm believing it and incorporating it into the fic.
O.o i attempted to stick in there as many allusions to water as i could. i thought it would be entertaining. i didn't do too bad with that, i think.

Well, that was my attempt. i hope it's at least semi-decent. Part of me is saying good linguistics don't make up for lack of knowing a character well, but another part of me is saying i will be forgiven for ignorance. Don't get me wrong, i've seen the series and know what i'm doing, but i've never used Mitarai in one of my fics before, posted or not. So...how did i do for my first shot?

i really wanting to try some shounen ai implications in there. But i didn't. 'Cause Thief said no pairings. i'm a good little writing-slave-servant-person. Good little writing-slave-servant-person.

Thanks! lunareclipse24, BHS, miyako14, Nyte Kit (go ahead and use the format; i only made it up, 'cause it's organized), and FrozenBlueRose. Thankies.

Special Notice: You're forewarned. i'm not getting enough requests and, if i don't get more, this may have to go on hiatus. i've made special requests from two people and expect that many more chapters, but after that, we've run dry.

2:00 A.M. Eastern Daylight Time. U.S. Wednesday, October 05, 2005.

Owakare.

Chiisai Mu.
Little Nothing.