A few things I wish for
He felt that usual warm pounding in his chest as he got sight of that perfect face. Perfect it was, but not in the ordinary way; it was so heart-piercingly gorgeous, shining so much with beauty. His skin was not that porcelaneous white but didn't get too much suntan either; oh, this guy was just so careful with himself. The face had a faultless oval shape, and if someone saw it, their look wandered immediately to that pair of almond-shaped cornflower blue eyes that were darkened by long, silky eyelashes. His look was never the same, it expressed all the emotions their possessor had; although he did not often have much different feelings from irritation when his name wasn't used properly; condescension when he had to introduce himself to a poor ignorant soul; and love, loads of warm, affectionate love towards this one single person.
His eyes always changed then; that mysterious shade of color turned into a light blue, the same way as the sun lights up the afternoon summer sky after the thunderclouds glide away.
And those lips; that smile that could have melted any hearts, and that was always hidden, meant for no one but him.
He liked the idea of this privacy. After all, he was the only one who deserved this kindness from himself. Everyone else was a fool. They did not care for him. They laughed at him when he generously tried to explain the appropriate behavior towards him. They just couldn't step through their own limited world where everyone was the same.
But that was not true. There were ugly people, there were beautiful people, and there was him.
Right?
He was born to be so painfully wonderful in every respect, and still he had to suffer their arrogance in this damned world, even if he deserved much more.
He was the only true friend of himself.
Right?
He cared for himself. He gave himself what he deserved. He loved himself warmly, gently, never forgetting, never betraying, never leaving. Only he knew what he deserved. And he knew perfectly.
His fingers touched the glass of the mirror, a comforting smile easing the misery of the unappreciated reflection.
At the doorway, pink orbs observed him, careful not to be noticed, wide, eager to take in every movement of his. Clutching the hilt of his sword tightly, finding breathing extremely hard. Startled of himself, of him, of disclosure, of being seen by others, of being confronted with himself.
And still, neither of these would have mattered if that smile… if he would once…
But he was nursing these false hopes out of pure insanity, that was certain.
Shishiwakamaru, whose name began with two kanjis of Death, suppressed a sigh and the urge to stab himself here and now, and proceeded further in the corridor, dragging his heart-breaking thoughts along.
He felt as miserable as never before. And every single day, every time he appeared in his life, be it his thoughts, his living area or their current battle field, he felt more wretched than before. Never in his entire previous half thousand years had he thought that something like this would reach him.
He had a certain group of fangirls watching his every step when he didn't bother with hiding, but somehow they never dared come close, and so he did not need to scare them away with his other face, the one he could assume in the twinkling of an eye and fright the enemy to death with it. Maybe those silly girlies wouldn not even be scared of him – they just did not grasp the dangers around them, and even when at times they got to see his original form, the little demon bird, they kept chanting: kawaii.
Sometimes he wondered what Suzuki thought of the fowl he was. Did he found it ugly? Was the existence of this bird-form an astonishing presence in the life of this blue-haired demon; a presence that was unworthy even for being somewhere near the Wonderful Suzuki?
Well, it might not have been the case, since Suzuki did allow him to sit on his shoulder in the little bird's form, and without complaining, which was a big word.
Or, and it was most likely the truth, this form of his was simply ignored by Suzuki, because it was small and strange. In this form, Shishiwaka could rest from always maintaining his more common form in which he could hold his sword and use his powers properly. In this form, he was… what was he? Was he himself while being this little bird? Or was his true form one of his other two faces? He never knew, nor did his companions. But at least they thought he knew. He never told them, like he did not tell them many things, which made him appear somewhat mysterious. Not that he wanted anything like that.
What did he want anyway? Nothing that was reasonable enough to wish for. Therefore, he wanted nothing in particular. This was also a characteristic obvious to the others. To his companions. Teammates. Friends, selected for him by Kurama personally. Wow.
So he ought to thrill with joy about these friends of his. So he was, but friendship was not the point of their gathering anyway. They had to get strong, as strong as very few creatures could get. Because they took it on and promised the fox. All of them for their own reasons. And neither of them did it for power.
What was his reason…?
At this line of his thoughts, he stepped into the training room where three of his companions and a pair of velvety green eyes awaited him. Jin was randomly flying around the ceiling with his well envied ability of controlling the wind, while Rinku kept on kicking the ground in his vast boredom. Touya was only imitating Kurama by keeping a solemn face, with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
"Nice." the fox demon smiled. "Now only our two loafers are missing."
"They'll arrive soon." Shishiwaka assured him and walked further into the cave, pulling out his sword and producing some setting-up exercises, trying to get rid of his troublesome thoughts. Knowing well they would come back the moment the last member arrives.
T-B-C