Written by mtgranola
Disclaimer: I don't own Kenshin, or Kaoru, or any of the Ruroken cast now that I think about it. I just enjoy…playing with them for my own twisted amusement.
Author's note: Sorry for the long delay in updating this and my other stories. My dear friend and high school art teacher passed away recently. I would also blame my homework because it's sucking the life out of me and I've been finding it rather hard to find my inspiration. I want to thank all of my reviewers and those that added me to their favorite lists, alert lists, and author alerts. I also want to thank The Shrine of Romance and Fluff (oro?) and Strange Things for adding this story to their C-2 lists.
It also took FFN three days to allow me to post this...argh!
Existing between the planes of light and shadow
I am lost
I am torn…
Find the shattered pieces that are my soul
And piece them back together
Chapter Three:I woke up to my alarm clock screaming incessantly in my ear. Seriously, I hate the thing and I would throw it across the room, but I hate spending money on replacing a perfectly working object even more. As evidenced by the fact the cursed thing has gotten me out of bed for the past five years without fail.
I groaned as the sunlight hit my eyes, further awaking me from my slumber. After last night, I have half a mind to stay and bed and hide underneath the covers for a really, really long time. As it was, I was really hoping that I was hallucinating, delusional, and/or dreaming….
Youkai don't exist.
They can't exist, even if I'm just telling myself that to preserve my own sanity.
They're stories told to children to get them too behave, things that teenagers told each other on campouts and at sleepovers to see who would freak out first, but they don't exist in the real world….
So, Kamiya, are you saying that you don't exist in the real world?
And being the somewhat practical human being that I am, I am beginning to realize that I was either going to have to ignore the fact that last night ever happened and go on with my little life, pretending that there are no such thing as youkai. And oni are not hiding underneath my bed.
Or I can run screaming in the other direction, preferably without a redheaded fanged man stalking me the entire way….
…Oi, Kaoru, just what in the hell did you get yourself into?
That unnerved me nearly as much as discovering that the small, quiet man I have been acquainted with for a few months now is a demon. A real-life, breathing, thinking, demon. I don't like not having control over a situation, not knowing…I don't play my life by barreling into things haphazardly. Well, at least, not in a very long time.
There was a time in my life where the fast balls that the Fates lobbed at me wouldn't even cause me to bat an eyelash. Now they terrify me. I used to think subconsciously that I was immortal, that nothing I could do could ever harm me but I was proved wrong. I don't know if it was the Kami that decided that I need to learn my lesson over that particular piece of arrogance or what…but I learned my lesson, perhaps too well.
I can feel my breath catch in my throat, the familiar feeling of panic welling up in my chest. I deal with my phobia by being as organized as I possibly can, probably to a fault. That's not to say that I don't get a little forgetful, or that I always think ahead, but I can't handle straying from the well trodden path unto the unknown anymore.
I decided to call in sick to work tonight, which will leave my wallet a little emptier than I like it to be, but when I consider the alternatives…. Maybe I should just find another job, preferably in a city far, far away. Far away from everything and anything remotely supernatural that could possibly try to inflict itself into my life. Especially those of the short, red-headed and fanged variety…and then that little voice that I never really listen to in the back of my head goes "and sexy! Don't forget very, very sexy!"
ARGH! SHUT UP! I DON'T NEED YOU TO TELL ME THINGS I PREFER NOT TO THINK ABOUT!
I allowed myself a small sigh. Hiding in my apartment wasn't going to solve much, unless you consider myself going insane a problem solver, but I doubt it. Well, actually maybe that would be a good thing, going insane and all of the "the nice men in the white coats have come to take you to your nice, soft padded room" variety. I can just see it now, the look of abject horror on Himura's face as he goes "Ye gods! She's insane! I cannot possibly go after her now!"
I allow myself a gleeful little smile. That would be rather nice. Otherwise I would have to show him the blunt end of my bokken in some place uncomfortable, and after that performance against Mr. Creepy and Smelly last night I don't think I'd be able to get close enough unless he tried kissing me again….
….
Damnit Kamiya! F.O.C.U.S!
Creepy killer who practically forced himself on you! These are not the kinds of thoughts you have about such people…youkai…things….
And know we go onto "Distract Kamiya from her life plan number two." Call Misao for coffee, lunch and/or shopping.
&&&&&&&&
Okay so maybe distraction number two was not the best course of action. I love Misao dearly, but caffeine and the weasel are not a good combination under any circumstance, especially since I am not all there emotionally or mentally at the moment. One needs to have a perfectly clear mind to be able to translate the hyper-speed paced ramblings she spouts out at me, and to say that I'm failing to follow the conversation is putting it mildly.
It probably explains why she and that Ice Block of hers gets along so well.
"I'm sorry, Misao…what were you saying again?"
"Kaaaoooru! I've only had to repeat it for you three times already! Just what's bothering you anyways? I haven't seen you this distracted since you broke up with that Takahashi guy." She paused and pondered over her words for a moment before her eyes lit up. "Ohhh, it's a guy isn't it? Did you finally meet somebody at the bar? Tell me tell me tell me!"
"There isn't anything to tell quite honestly…" If you discount the fact that some overly sexed demon tried to force himself on me last night…
Misao gave me that look that tells you that someone doesn't quite believe that you're telling the truth. I hate that look, quite honestly, makes me feel guilty or something. But I can't tell her, I don't know how she would react, but I know that I can't tell her.
I gave her my best "nothing's the matter with me" smile and hoped that she believed it. She raised an eyebrow at me, telling me that she'd let me off the hook for now, but there were going to be questions later.
Inwardly I hung my head. Questions. Yay.
"How 'bout we go get something to eat?" I changed the topic as smoothly as I could. "There's that new sushi bar down the street from here."
"That's sounds great!" She smiled in the way only the weasel girl could smile and grabbed my forearm, leading myself and her many shopping bags out of the mall.
&&&&&&&&
I wasn't exactly enjoying my night off, mostly because I had decided extra-time means: let's play catch up on our homework!
Ummm, yeah….
Of course, for me, homework usually means getting the cursed stuff done between distractions. T.V, radio, the neighbor's screaming match, the sounds of the city around me, and the occasional shiny object. Quite possibly if such a thing as ADD existed as a diagnostical problem when I was younger, I would have been on Ritalin. Or it could be that the homework is usually so boring I couldn't pay attention to it even if I glued my eyelids open.
I'm not saying that I'm genius material, but I'm smarter than the average bear, and quite honestly if I'm going to be able to pay attention to and complete said homework, it has got to be more challenging than this.
Maybe I should go rent a movie or something.
…
Or maybe not because that would require me to go outside, where it is now dark, and possibly have a run in with Himura-san. Which is an occurrence that I don't want to repeat anytime soon, possibly never.
It's weird though, I keep on getting this itchy feeling in between my shoulder blades. It's that rather irritating sensation that you get when someone is looking at you from behind. But I know that's not possible because for one, all the doors and windows in the apartment are locked and two, I live on the sixteenth floor. Or rather, the seventeenth, but that's only if you count the fact that there isn't a thirteenth floor in my building.
I let my forehead bang against my desk with quite the spectacular bang, or maybe it just seems that way because it's ringing in my ears.
This sucks.
&&&&&
end chapter three