Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho or any of its characters. I do, however, own any OCs that appear in this story.
This story came to me in a dream, and it took me a while to get it down on paper only because I do action/angst kind of stories and this is almost opposite, so bare with me.
- - - Little Purple Skirt - Chapter One: Home and back again - - -
He ran down the hall bumping into other students as he made his way to his own locker. Long silver hair, tied up in a pony tail, bounced on his shoulders and several heavy books tried to free themselves the boy's grasp. His golden eyes glued to his destination and not paying attention to the traffic of the three o'clock afternoon halls.
"Hey, Kurama! Wait up!" The call of his good friend floated above the crowd. His friend pushed through the students, apologizing for stepping on their toes.
"Sorry. Excuse me. Oops, sorry!" The boy, Kurama, stopped to wait for his friend, Shuuichi. Shuuichi was wearing the typical pink school uniform as the other boys and himself were forced to wear. (AN: Come on. Pink for guys and red for the girls? I think someone should protest or something…) His long red hair sat on his back, behind his ears and random curls caressed his face. He finally found a way to get to Kurama and smiled cheerfully.
"What's the hurry? Anxious to go see the others?" Kurama made a sour face and shook his head making the slightly shorter red head laugh. Shuuichi patted the silver boy on the back.
"No, not really. I'm not too fond of Yusuke and Kazuma…" Kurama looked down at the ground and sighed. Shuuichi chuckled a bit more and directed them both to the wall so they were no longer blocking the halls.
"You don't like them? Why not? Sure, they are loud, obnoxious, idiotic and total bastards, all the lovely qualities that you don't like, but they aren't that bad. Besides, Hiei will be there, so those two wont pay any attention to you." Kurama groaned. He didn't really like Hiei either.
He just arrived in town a few weeks ago and has already established himself as the cool kid in town. Shuuichi was the first to greet him and soon, Yusuke and Kazuma became his 'friends' as well. Hiei never used the word friend, he acknowledges them as 'acquaintances' and nothing more.
Hiei was a strange one though. His spiked up hair made him look evil and anti-social. His punk attitude and a collection of tattoos and piercing gave him that punk, rebel, gothic, druggy aura. He was pretty mean and cold hearted and as expected, he doesn't go to school.
"I don't like him either," Kurama stated making Shuuichi frown and scratch his head.
"Alright, fine. We'll hangout this weekend, just you and me. Okay?" Kurama nodded and agreed to meet Shuuichi at the park tomorrow at eleven.
"See you tomorrow, Kura!" Shuuichi gathered his belongings and walked into the flood of kids, disappearing into them like light in a black hole. Kurama took his time though.
The afternoon sun shone into the school, making Kurama's diamond stud earrings shine a bright gold. He flung his backpack over his shoulders and marched out of the building and onto the sidewalk.
He arrived home shortly since his house was only four blocks away from the school. His home was a dark green color with yellow and orange wild flowers in the front garden. Pulling out his house keys, Kurama smiled when he pulled out a napkin with three special chocolate chip cookies. He loved to bring cookies home from school for his younger sister, Ayame. He smile always made him happy. Kurama turned the lock and pushed the oak door and entered into the dark house. A television could be heard from the living room and the small footsteps running down the stairs.
"Kura-kun!" The small child turned the corner and leapt into the boys arms.
"Hello Aya. I got something for you." Kurama handed her the treats. Her eyes lit up excitedly and opened it up, revealing the cookies. She smiled happily and squealed in delight.
"Chocolate chip! My favorite!" Ayame was only five years old and would be in school next year. She had brown hair, like their mom, and golden eyes like their father. Kurama always wondered where he inherited his silver hair. The dark house filled with Ayame's happy cries and a soap opera from the television room filled the house with voices. He and his sibling walked into the room, Aya scurried onto her mothers lap. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes was strong.
"Mommy! Look what big brother got me!" She held out the cookies, blood shot and tired eyes looked from Ayame to the cookies, to Kurama and back to Ayame. The woman smiled at the girl and patted her head.
"Why don't you put those away and help me cook dinner? Then you can have them with some ice cream." She stood up slowly but stumbled back onto the couch.
"Wait, mom. Why don't I cook dinner," Kurama suggested and walked in front of the television. His mom glared at him angrily.
"Why? You've been cooking supper for a whole week now. This is my family and I shall cook for it!" Her shrill voice filled the room and she stood up, face red.
"You are not a father, or a mother! You are a child and you better leave the parenting job to me and your father!" Kurama gestured to Ayame to go to her room quietly. Ayame ran up the gray steps and ran into her room, whimpering a she went.
"Mom, you aren't sober enough to cook, let alone walk. Let me cook something and you can go out or sleep, or whatever you like to do." The woman stared at him in rage, but didn't move. Her lips curled into a snarl and she cried out in anger. She grabbed the couch for support, stood up and lunged at the poor boy. Kurama hesitated for a second but shot out of the way just in time. He raced up the stairs and looked down the hall.
None of the doors in the upper part of the house had a lock on them, except his parents room. Taking a chance he jumped into the room and locked the door tightly. Fists pounded against the door and his mother cursed and yelled. He curled up on the bed and sighed.
Kurama remember when he was younger, how his parents would yell at him for going into their room and crying. His father never approved of him crying even when he was a lot younger. His dad would be angry if he found out he was in his room.
The commotion calmed down out side of the door and heavy footsteps trudged down the stairs. The boy was relieved and got up. He quietly unlocked the door and opened it just a crack to make sure the 'coast was clear.'
"Kurama stepped into the hall and tiptoed down to his room. Aya came running from her room and tackled her older brother. She buried her face in his shirt and cried softly. Kurama hugged her and silently slipped into his room.
- - -
Night fell over the city by the time his mother 'cooked' dinner and went out for more drinks at the bar. She did this every Monday, Thursday and Friday night, and came home around twelve or one o'clock. This gave Kurama ample time to eat dinner before their father comes home.
"The house was a walls in the house were a pale orange in almost every room except the three bathrooms and his sisters room. The living room was cluttered with dirty and clean laundry (mostly dirty), magazines, cigarette packets and butts, beer bottles and empty cocaine sacks. A gray couch and a moderately sized television sat in the center of the room, onto of a rather ugly green carpet.
The dining room contained a round oak table with matching chairs (Kurama knew his grandparents gave this to them since they were too expensive for his parents to buy themselves) and three cabinets filled with antiques and china. A rough blue rug lay in the middle of the floor.
The kitchen was probably the best kept room in the house, besides his own room. White tiles lined the counters and floor while light tan porcelain glistened without a stain or scratch. This was because Kurama loved to cook and looked after the kitchen like he did his sister.
Kurama strolled into the room and opened the refrigerator door scanned the foods within it. Sadly, it was almost empty.
I need to remind someone to go food shopping tomorrow.. Or I can go Sunday. Thought Kurama as he pulled the half empty carton of milk aside to reveal the dinner from the previous night; chicken fingers. He placed on a plate and tossed it into the microwave.
"Big brother? Are you okay?" Aya walked into the room and grabbed his hand.
"Of course, I'm fine. Want to share my dinner? I don't think mothers was very good." The girl made a disgusted face and shook her head. Kurama laughed and as soon as the microwave beeped, he took out the chicken and split it with his sister.
"How was your day, Ayame?" They chatted lightly as they nibbled on their food before Kurama got to work cleaning the house. Their father was a nazi when it came to a clean home, even though he is the one who messes it up.
Both his parents had bad tempers and him and his sister inherited that trait from them. Unlike their children though, they were drug addicts and alcoholics. Kurama would have called DIFAS a long time ago, but he never had the heart to. He didn't want to send both him and Aya to a foster home. Aya loved their parents and to be separated from them would break her little heart.
Kurama was soon busy picking up the bottles and things that littered the ground. He washed the laundry and vacuumed the house. He spent the night washing stains out of the floor and doing dishes. It was probably almost eleven o'clock when he finished and made sure his sister was asleep. Kurama sat on the couch and closed his eyes in exhaustion. Sat in the silence and smiled happily to himself. Silence was a nice and his greatest companion. It helped him think and calm his nerves.
He stood up and trudged up the stairs and headed back to his room. His room was pretty decent sized with orange walls. He tried to draw all over the walls to try and hide the ugly color, but it didn't work very well. Posters from bands and actors covered the walls and a small cot leaned against the wall with its sheets made neatly. He closed the door and leaned a chair against the door to prevent anyone from coming in and disturbing him.
"What a day." Kurama fell onto his bed and listened to the night sounds from the open window. He rolled on his back and stared up at the gray ceiling. A frown dance across his face as his eyes looked at a rather large poster on the wall. It was of a famous model in the United States and she was wearing a rather attractive outfit. A purple skirt and white blouse. A purple flower pattern laced over the shirt a golden belt rested on her waist.
Kurama envied her so much. She had beauty and self confidence, something the boy didn't have, or so he thought. She was happy and good at what she did. What was he good for?
Nothing. I'm just a loser. I have no friends and I am good at nothing, not even taking down notes at school. Kurama sat up and stared at the poster without blinking for a few minutes. His eyes began to water when he turned his attention to his closet. He sheepishly got up and walked towards the door.
I am only good at one thing… He opened the closet door and shifted through his clothing. I don't care what people say about it. It makes me happy and I like it. Kurama pulled out what he was looking for.
I like it because it makes me feel safe and nice. If anyone found out, I'd be laugh out of this world. So why am I happydoing it? With in seconds he slipped on the outfit he pulled out; the exact same one from the poster of the model. A little purple skirt and blouse.
- - -
Weee! I like this chapter. I had to rewrite it a few times because it wasn't coming out right and I was sort of dragging the point of it. I hope you like it. I wonder how many of you were surprised at the end. Did you sort of expect it or was it the exact opposite of what you though it would be?
I must warn you though, this will be a yaoi fan fiction, so if you do not like that, don't continue to read this. Or if you do find this story amusing then fine, just don't complain if you don't like it.