Warnings: Some language
Lucky Child
Chapter 19:
"A Role to Play"
Yusuke didn't smile. He appeared before me with a face like solemn thunder, hands jammed into the pockets of his school uniform, and stared—silent like a deserted grave. I gasped, startled by his appearance, but he made no move to comfort me. Eyes gleamed hollow in his round face.
"Iwamoto was right," he said. "I did infect you."
This was a dream. I knew it was a dream. I'd fallen asleep like falling into death, slipping into the black void of shock after my parents' revelation—that I was to switch schools, to Kurama's school—and then Yusuke had appeared. This had to be a dream. I'd expected to dream of Yusuke tonight. He was supposed to tell me to save his body from the funeral pyre.
But he looked so sad.
If he was coming back to life, he should look happy.
He should look happy…right?
Even dreaming, I felt adrenaline pump inside my veins. My dream-mouth dried. I struggled to breathe like a beached fish.
"Yusuke," I gasped. "Yusuke—!"
"I infected you," Yusuke continued in that same, solemn voice—and then he punched my arm and started grinning like he'd won an Olympic gold medal. "I infected you with ass-kicking awesomeness!"
Yusuke's preferred Olympic sport? Being a total dick-weasel, apparently.
While Yusuke crowed about how freakin' cool I was for trying to beat up a teacher on his behalf, I marched over and bopped him on the head. He yelped. He ran. I chased him around the landscape of my dreams until I got him in a headlock, burying my fingers into his gelled hair (weird, his ghost wore hair gel, but of course it did) so I could give him a noogie. That lasted all of a minute before the headlock turned into a hug, and we just sat there, arms around each other, me sniveling into his dream-self neck as I breathed myself down from a panic attack.
No matter how smug he looked—no matter how many tricks he pulled—I was happy as hell to see him.
Eventually I calmed enough to pull away, to look at something other than Yusuke's mischievous face. The sky burned bubblegum pink above, spattered with stars suspended in ribbons of celestial, luminous purple. Green hills dotted with crimson poppies rolled into the distance, like the fields surrounding Dorothy's fabled Emerald City.
Yusuke made a face. "Pink? Flowers? You're such a girl."
"You say that like it's an insult." I flapped a hand at him. "I should be screaming at you right now. But I can't."
Yusuke frowned. "Oh yeah?"
"You saved a kid. You might be a moron, but at least you're a good one." I shook my head, twisting the fabric of my dream-pajamas in both hands. "Still. I should be ripping you a new one. What you did—"
"Oh, can it, you big nag," Yusuke groused. "I heard the lecture already."
My turn to frown. "What?"
"You and Kuwabara. On the bridge?" He crossed his arms and turned from me, smirking, nose tipped toward the bubblegum sky. "Yeah, Keiko. Don't think I didn't see all of that. You two gettin' all cozy the minute I'm gone? What m' I, chopped liver?" He shook his head, disapproving. "Body's not even cold and you get yourself a boyfriend. No respect." My best friend cackled. "Too bad your boyfriend's ugly!"
I slugged his shoulder, ignoring his indignant yelp. "I'm not dating Kuwabara."
"Whatever you say," he said. I was about to punch him again when his hands dropped. Devious accusation turned to earnestness in the time it took to blink. "Look, Keiko, I—"
He stopped short. His mouth worked, but no words came out. He turned away, cursing under his breath while he dragged a hand through his hair—
I grabbed his sleeve. Yusuke looked at my hand as if he'd never seen a human hand before.
"What is it, Yusuke?" I said.
His eyes met mine. Then they slid sideways, toward the Oz-green hills.
"I'm glad you're not alone," Yusuke mumbled. My mouth parted with surprise. "Much as I hate the bastard, Kuwabara is a good guy." His lips curled. "An idiot, but a good one."
Fingers tightened on his arm. Gently, I said, "Just like you."
He shuddered. "God, I hope not." A sheepish chuckle accompanied flushing cheeks. "Anyway. If there's anybody you could go through this with…I guess I'm glad it's him. Because things are about to get weird."
My heart stammered like an embarrassed schoolboy.
"Weird?" I repeated.
"Yeah. And trust me, Keiko. When shit hits the fan, you're gonna need all the help you can get."
"What do you mean?"
Yusuke paused. I didn't dare press him to keep talking, despite my mounting impatience. I hated being kept in suspense like this.
Was he coming back to life, or wasn't he?
The balloon of dread inside me sputtered when his eyes met mine. In them I saw determination—not the look of someone who was about to say goodbye for the last time.
"What I'm about to say is unbelievable," Yusuke said, "but you have to trust me. Can you do that, Keiko?"
Not daring to speak, I nodded. Yusuke blew out a breath, cheeks puffing like an overstuffed squirrel.
"I'm…well, I'm not dead," he said. His nose crinkled. "Well, I am dead. But I won't be soon. My body won't be, anyway. I won't be in my body, but I'll—oh, fuck it, I'm not making sense. The long and short of it is that I'm coming back to life. So, yeah. That's what's up."
I shut my eyes.
Relief flooded like a moonlit tide, suffusing the shores of my anxiety with calm—but I refused to let that show on my face. I refused to let Yusuke see that I'd been waiting and hoping and begging the universe for this.
I refused, because it was time for payback.
I opened my eyes. I quirked a brow.
"Really?" I said, in my very best I-do-not-believe-you voice. "You're coming back to life, huh?"
Yusuke nodded, pleased. Then he saw the look on my face. His brow furrowed.
"Yeah. I am. So why aren't you happy?" he said. Confusion turned to alarm. "Do you not actually want me to come back?" Alarm turned to outright horror. He leapt back, pointing between my eyes. "No way! Were the tears an act for Kuwabara?"
I couldn't contain my laughter. I doubled over, hands on knees, while Yusuke blinked at me in indignant surprise.
"No, stupid," I chortled. "It wasn't an act for Kuwabara."
"OK. So why—"
"I'm not acting happy because you're saying totally unbelievable things, that's all."
He gaped like a fish. Then his lip jutted in an annoyance.
"Hey. You can trust me," he said.
"Oh really?" I countered. "Says the guy who put purple hair dye in my shampoo last summer?"
One hand scratched the back of his neck. Nervous shuffling and shifty eyes accompanied a low, guilt-ridden laugh. I tried very hard not to show how amused I was. Yusuke was just adorable when he went on the defensive.
"That's what I thought." It was my turn to cross my arms and stick up my nose. "In light of that, you'll forgive me if I don't just believe you right off the bat."
Pout turned pleading. "Oh, c'mon, Keiko, don't be like this," he wheedled.
"Be like what?" I asked with fake sweetness.
"Be like, you know…"
"What, a hard-ass?" I interjected when he faltered. "Maybe you shouldn't have been such a liar, if you wanted me to trust you."
"Ugh, fine!" He threw up his hands before placing one firm on each hip. "Fine, Keiko. What do I have to do to prove I'm serious to you?"
I blinked. Yusuke's eyes locked on mine, as firm and immovable as concrete. I said nothing. He said nothing, clearly waiting for me to speak.
Wow. Was he serious? He'd just let me name some sort of test? Anything I could come up with?
"Come on, Keiko," he said when I didn't reply quickly enough. "Name it and I'll do it. Whatever will prove I'm real to you."
Whatever, hmm? Now that presented quite a broad range of possibilities.
But what could I possibly do to embarrass him?
"Hmm…" I made a show of putting my hand on my chin and wracking my brain. "Let's see…you could possess a little old lady and kiss Kuwabara, maybe."
Yusuke didn't react. Then he paled. He paled so much that any ghost metaphors I might care to use would be both completely fitting and unforgivably cliché. Soon the pale complexion gave way to enraged red, however, and Yusuke skittered away from me on stumbling feet.
"Why would you even suggest that?" Yusuke said, octave skyrocketing, eyes horrified, hands shaking. "I thought I had the dirty mind around here, not you!"
Another giggle-fit consumed me. This time I had to sit down. Yusuke sputtered, watching me as I slapped my thigh and tried desperately to breathe.
Too easy. Messing with him was too damn easy.
Man. I'd miss the hell out of him, waiting for his return.
"God, Yusuke—you're so dumb," I managed to say through a curtain of raining laughter. "I'm kidding. You don't have to prove anything to me."
His jaw clacked shut. Warily, he said, "I don't?"
"Of course not. I was messing with you, shithead. Calm down."
He eyed me sidelong, like I might ask him to kiss Kuwabara again. I offered a conciliatory smile. Time for jokes was over.
"I'd never doubt something as serious as you coming back to me," I said, and his cagey side-eye vanished. The air between us thickened, charge with invisible static. "If there's any chance at all to get you back, I'm taking it. I'd do anything to bring you back to life—anything, Yusuke."
He drew in a sharp breath. Our eyes met.
"That's a promise," I said. "I swear on my life, I'll bring you back to me."
Our eyes held a moment more. Then Yusuke looked down, face and ears flushing under the weight of my determination.
He looked so much younger, then. Like that kid I'd met under the bridge all those years before.
No way in hell would I mess up Yusuke's resurrection. Over my dead body—not to mention his.
"Anyway," I said, tone breezy to dispel the tension. "I'll run by you apartment tomorrow. See if your body really is alive." I stood and brushed off the front of my dream-pajamas. "What happens then?"
Yusuke's blush faded, now that we had something practical to talk about. "I have to go through an 'ordeal' to come back," he said, with air quotes around the word 'ordeal' (he pitched his voice high and nasally when he said it, too—an imitation of Koenma?). Yusuke heaved a sigh. "I don't know what it is yet, though."
I nodded, pretending to absorb this like it was completely new information, which of course it was not. "Interesting. Do you think you'll make it through the ordeal?"
He shrugged. I glared.
"You pessimist," I chided. "Call me crazy, but I believe when I wake up tomorrow, I'll find your heart beating." A shrug—a manufactured one, characterized by helpless doubt. Couldn't look too accepting so soon. Might seem suspicious. "Or maybe I'm delusional. Maybe I want you back so badly, I'm making all this up. Maybe checking on your body is just delusion, and when I find you dead, it'll just shatter me again."
Another sharp breath. He stepped toward me, urgency evident in his tight shoulders. "Keiko—"
"Delusional or not, either way, I'll find out tomorrow," I said with another shrug. "I will check." I allowed myself a mischievous wink. "Maybe I'll even take Kuwabara with me. Bet you'd love that."
Yusuke scowled. "Hell no. The fewer people who see my corpse, the better. I want to be remembered as a badass, not a zombie. Kuwabara would never let me live that down."
True. Kuwabara wouldn't. I started to say so, but as Kuwabara's name formed on my tongue, I faltered.
Kuwabara.
We'd exchanged numbers on the bridge that night. We'd promised to catch up at school, maybe eat lunch and talk about Yusuke if we felt the need to vent. He'd called my house when I didn't come to school today, but I hadn't answered. He was so sweet, checking up on me, but I hadn't had the heart to talk to him just then.
Hadn't had the heart, because I knew I'd have to break the news of my new school to him.
Call me cowardly, but I didn't want to heap that drama onto him. Not so soon after Yusuke's death. Kuwabara thought I'd be there with him, suffering alongside. But now…
"You OK?"
Yusuke watched me, head cocked just barely to one side. I sighed.
"I'm fine," I said. "Just…you've been watching me, right? As a ghost?"
"Yeah."
"So you know my parents are sending me to another school?"
"I saw," Yusuke said. His cheeks flushed again. "Not that I was spying! I was waiting for you to fall asleep so I could talk to you, that's all, and…" He shook his head. "Whatever, yeah, I heard. They're sending you to…what was it? Mimo?"
"Meiou," I corrected. "Sucks, right?"
Yusuke grimaced. "Actually, no. It doesn't suck. Meiou will be better for you."
"What?!"
Of all the things he could've said, that was not what I'd predicted. He shrugged, gesturing at me with one hand.
"You're too smart for Sarayashiki," he said. "I've always said so. Hell, you only went there to take care of me."
I winced. "You know that's not true."
"Oh, shut up," he grumbled. "I'm the liar here, remember?"
Little did he know I'd told more lies than there were stars in this dreamland sky. But I said nothing, and waited for him to continue.
"Even if I hadn't died, your parents would've done this eventually, now that they have money to send you to a private school," he said. "Seeing how Iwamoto acted, I can't blame them for switching you." He cracked a grin. "Hell, even my mom wondered why you were sticking around Sarayashiki, and she's as observant as a rock. But I knew the reason. You were only there to take care of me." His grin widened, impish. "Looks like my death wasn't a waste, after all. Not if it gave you a better shot in life. It's high time you went somewhere that deserves you."
I started to tell him to shut up, to not talk about his death that way—but his eyes glimmered, a wounded animal staring into the face of death, and I realized this was his way of making sense of things. His way of justifying what happened to him. His way of coping.
A lump of raw emotion clogged my throat.
He'd never said something so genuinely kind about me before.
For all his bluster, for all his bravado, for all his teenage-boy-bullshit—Yusuke was telling me he cared.
I cast my eyes to the poppy-covered ground.
"Maybe Meiou will be good for me," I said, voice thick, "but when you come back, I won't be—"
"Be there to clean up my messes?" he cut in. Yusuke shrugged again. "Maybe it's time I start taking care of those on my own." A sly chuckle. "And besides. You couldn't stay at Sarayashiki even if you wanted to."
"Hmm?"
"Iwamoto wanted to expel you."
Took a minute for that to sink in.
When it did I shrieked, "He what?!"
Yusuke stuffed his fingers in his ears. "Jeez, Keiko! Pretty sure they can hear you in the next prefecture!"
"Sorry, sorry—but what the hell do you mean, he wanted to expel me?!"
"I mean that he got another slimeball teacher to vouch for what you did at the funeral. They asked the schoolboard to kick you out."
I gaped. The idea that Iwamoto would stoop to that level was…well, not surprising considering his character, but it sure as hell was ballsy of that cowardly rat. Yusuke pinched his nose shut and contorted his jaw—an uncanny impression of Iwamoto both in expression and tone.
"'Keiko has hidden violent tendencies that belie her position on the student counsel and she must be expelled immediately, for the good of the student body!'" he quoted. He let his nose go and made a disgusted face. "Bastard lied through his teeth. Would've punched him if I still had fists."
"Defending my honor?" I teased.
"Shut up. I didn't do anything," he grumbled. "Your mom, on the other hand..."
My mom? She hadn't mentioned anything about an expulsion—just that she'd enrolled me at Meiou. Still wasn't sure how I felt about her just yet. I'd fallen asleep before I could do any real processing about my change in schools. All I could think about was being distanced from Yusuke. If I wasn't there, in his face, would he forget about me? Out of sight, out of mind? He certainly seemed the type…
I'd have to work so much harder to not be forgotten on the sidelines, if I wasn't in Yusuke's immediate presence. Keiko was already such a background player. Would being sent to Meiou condemn her to obscurity for good?
Had my mother condemned my second life to insignificance?
And more pressing…would I be able to forgive her for that?
She hadn't even asked me if I wanted to switch schools. Shouldn't that be my decision, not hers?
Yusuke had no idea about any of that, of course. His eyes lit up; he bounced on his heels, grinning at me like he was about to recount the events of a particularly exciting boxing match.
"Man, Keiko. You should've seen your mom," Yusuke said. "She was on fire. I can see where you get it."
"Is that right," I said.
"Oh yeah. She marched into Sarayashiki and demanded to see the principal. Guy almost pissed his pants. They were about to file for your expulsion—Takanaka tipped her off, by the way, really saved your ass—but it was your mom who pushed the transfer to Meiou right on time. Wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and did everything she could to take Iwamoto down in the process." He put his hands behind his head, lips pursing. "Probably won't stick. Iwamoto's a slippery weasel. But in the end, your mom saved you and damn near took him down, too. At the very least she saved your squeaky clean record. It's something."
"How do you even know about—?" I stopped and shook my head at my own stupidity. "Right. Ghost. You were spying."
He didn't bother denying it. "When I saw her leave the restaurant on a warpath, I couldn't not follow. And watching her ream Iwamoto was priceless. Being dead has its perks."
Yusuke seemed pleased by my mother's actions. I'd had a temper in my old life, for sure, but maybe part of my temper in this life came from my determined warrior of a mom. I'd been prepared to resent my mother for this change in canon. I knew that most of this was my fault—earning my parents money for private school, getting mad at Yusuke's tsuya and jeopardizing my place at Sarayashiki—but I'd still been ready to hold a grudge if my role in canon drifted astray.
Without my mother, though, the quality of my life in this world—the life that I would continue to live after the events of Yu Yu Hakusho came to a close—would have been threatened.
I'd forgotten I needed to worry about more than just Yu Yu Hakusho.
Sure. I was a character in this world.
Today Mom reminded me I was also a human being living in it.
Seems mother knew best, after all.
I guess I stared at the ground, stuck inside my own reflection, for a bit too long. Yusuke drew close, leaning in to scowl at my face. "Earth to Keiko. You in there?"
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." I tucked hair behind my ears. "Just have to thank my mother, apparently."
"Damn straight. She had your back today." His teeth gleamed like a tiger's maw. "Don't let her work go to waste, you hear me? Grab Meiou by the balls. Make it your bitch."
I snorted. "Eloquent as always, Yusuke."
"Yup." His expression darkened. "And don't you dare get caught up in your head."
"Get caught up in my—?"
"Every time something big happens, you do the same thing." He swirled a finger around his ear, inadvertently using the American Sign Language word for 'crazy'. "I've seen it a hundred times. You get caught up in your head and over-analyze everything. That big brain of yours isn't always a good thing, y'know?"
He knew me far too well. I'd done a poor job acting as Keiko, it seemed. I sighed and shook my head, lips trembling with a suppressed smile.
Yusuke looped an arm around my neck. I knotted my fingers through his. Even in the scenery of a dream, his body felt warm and comforting against mine.
"Even if we don't go to the same school, you'll still see me around once I come back," he said in my ear. "So stop looking like the world's about to end. OK?"
"…sure."
"...I know that dramatic pause. What's wrong?"
"Honestly?" I grabbed his hand and extricated myself from the hug. Although my next words were true, they weren't the real answer to his question. "Just dreading telling Kuwabara I'm going to switch schools, is all."
Yusuke threw his head back. "Ha! Yeah, he'll probably cry. That conversation's gonna suck!"
I glowered. "Not funny, Yusuke."
"Are you kidding? It's hilarious! He's totally got a crush on you!"
Call me dense, but I couldn't tell if he was kidding or serious. His laughter sounded the same whether he was making fun of me, or just having fun. I shoved my hands into my pajama pockets and hunched, trying not to look like a kid being picked last at dodgeball.
I mean, Kuwabara was amazing. He was my favorite. But we'd only just met. Sure, we were close already, and we connected on a lot of levels, but that didn't mean—
"Anyway," Yusuke said, "just tell him the truth. Rip the Band-Aid off. You don't have to go to the same school to be friends."
Ah. Looked like Yusuke was kidding about the crush thing. I put my hand to my forehead. "I guess I worry you'll both forget me if I'm out of sight, out of mind."
Yusuke rolled his eyes so hard, I feared they'd pop out of his head.
"Fat chance of that," he said. "With your loud mouth, there's no chance you'd let us forget."
Leave it to Yusuke to remind me of my own tenacity. "True," I said, and then I shoved his shoulder with an open palm. "Speaking of loud mouths. How long till I get to yell at you again? How long should your resurrection take?"
He looked annoyed, staring up at the pink sky with a scowl.
"Not sure," Yusuke said. "They're being vague and it sucks. But I'll let you know."
I started to pretend to act like I didn't know what he meant ('Who is being vague?') but then his eyes narrowed as he stared off into the distance of my dreamscape—sensing something beyond the scope of my perception. His hand drifted toward me, landing on my shoulder with an absent squeeze.
"I've gotta go," he said.
My stomach lurched. "So soon?"
Eyes slid my way, sardonic. "What? Will you miss me?"
Much as Yusuke knew me, I knew him, too. He expected me to deny his blithe accusation. He expected me to play coy, to tell him to shut up and stop being stupid.
Instead, I said, "Yeah. I will. I'll miss the shit out of you, every day, until you come back to me."
Yusuke recoiled, hand coming off my shoulder—but then our gazes collided like comets hurtling through space. I felt sincerity burning inside me. I just hoped Yusuke could see it.
Slowly, he put the hand back on my collarbone.
"Don't get mushy on me, now," he muttered.
That time, I played to his expectations. I grinned and said, "Fuck off."
It was like something out of a movie, when his knuckles chucked my chin. I think the motion even surprised him. His eyes widened, but then they softened above the curve of his reluctant smile.
"That's my girl," he said.
Yusuke turned away.
"See ya round," he said.
I didn't have time to say goodbye.
Between one moment and the next, Yusuke disappeared.
Between that moment and another, Hiruko took his place.
It happened so quickly, I wondered if I was seeing things. But then the kid kicked at the poppy-covered ground with the toe of his wooden sandal, and I knew it was him, after all.
"Hiruko," I intoned. "We have to stop meeting like this."
Eyes like the sea at high tide slid upward, meeting mine with faux innocence. He asked, "Oh?"
"Yeah. It's annoying. I can't call you, but you can show up whenever? Hardly seems fair."
His eternal smile widened. "Life isn't fair. Anyone who says differently is selling something."
"Don't quote my favorite movie at me," I said.
Said Hiruko: "You could just let Yusuke get cremated, you know."
For a second I thought I'd misheard him. He spoke with marked nonchalance, like he'd commented on mere weather as opposed to the fate of my best friend. As such, it took me a minute to find the gumption to reply.
"Excuse me?" I said.
A tired eye-roll. Hiruko began, "I said—"
"No. I heard what you said. I'm wondering why you said it."
The pink-haired brat spoke like he was trying to explain something obvious to a child. "Yusuke dying—I mean dying for real—would be a huge broken rule." His head tilted, but I didn't believe his guiltless smile for a single goddamn second. "Wouldn't you like to be the next Spirit Detective?
My response was as heartfelt as it was immediate: "Fuck no."
"Such a fast answer," Hiruko said, laughing. "But are you sure? You seemed so intent on awakening supernatural abilities in yourself."
"Of course I want abilities. Who in their right mind wouldn't want them, if they were transported to a world where being psychic was possible?" I countered. That logic seemed pretty freaking obvious, at least to me. Enough people had written self-insertion fanfic in my home world for me to know this must be the case. "But that desire doesn't mean I want to…to usurp Yusuke's story to get those powers."
Hiruko looked genuinely surprised to hear that—and this time, I believed him. "You don't?" he asked.
"No! I want my own narrative, not someone else's," I said.
"Funny." His smiled reminded me of a shark. "You've been content to play the part of Keiko these past few days, without alteration."
…he had a point, dammit. Playing her role had felt comforting indeed. But Hiruko seemed to be neglecting one important factor.
"I only acted the part of Keiko to protect Yusuke," I said. "Let's call recent circumstance extenuating."
"Oh. So you admit you've grown attached to him, eh?" he said. Hiruko didn't look upset by that, but something about his smile tightened. My gut clenched in response. "Interesting."
It was then my turn to use a supercilious tone of voice. "Whatever you say. But I think switching schools is a pretty big alteration when it comes to Keiko's storyline."
"Perhaps it is," Hiruko relented. His smiled amped up a few watts, but in that moment I felt like he stopped addressing me. It was more like he was looking at me than talking with me. "You're more aggressive than the other Keiko. More ambitious, too. That aggression and that ambition are to blame for your new predicament, regarding your education." He chuckled, hands crossing in front of his archaic crimson robe. "Funny how a shift in personality alone changed your fate."
"Stop talking about me like I'm a science project."
Pink hair fell across his eyes. "Sorry. But you are a project of mine."
"Care to elaborate?" I said—and just then I felt particularly bold. "Kagome and I would just love to know more about you."
Hiruko's smile froze.
It thawed just as quickly, though. The boy tutted, shoving his hands out of sight and into his sleeves. I waited for him to speak, but when his eyes drifted across the magenta sky and field of encroaching crimson poppies, I realized he didn't intend to reply at all.
"Of course not," I said with an exasperated sigh. "You're going to be as annoyingly cryptic as always."
Hiruko shrugged. He bent, plucked a poppy from the ground, and tucked it behind his ear. I rolled my eyes when he looked to me for wide-eyed approval.
"Look," I said. "I'm not going to let Yusuke die. Screw your broken rules and your puppy-dog eyes. On this matter, I'm following the script. I have a role to play, and I'll be damned if I neglect it on your account." I couldn't disguise the venom in my voice when I added, "Hope that's OK, despite what you might've hoped?"
Hiruko considered me for a moment. Indigo eyes raked the aubergine sky.
"For now, I suppose its fine," the boy eventually said—and then lid obscured eye in a conspiratorial wink. "But I have faith you'll stray again soon."
I wanted to tell him to go screw himself.
Hiruko ended the dream before I could form the words.
The purple and pink sky faded, replaced by the grey ceiling of my darkened bedroom.
When the sun rose in shades of lilac and gold, I walked to the funeral parlor to pay Yusuke one final visit.
I found his body breathing.
As I called for help through shrieking lungs, I hoped Hiruko could hear me.
Little bastard deserved to know Yusuke was coming back, and that I would play my role in his resurrection perfectly.
NOTES:.
Anyone know what move/book Hiruko quoted? It's my fav!
Cliché though this may sound, I'm stunned and humbled by the response this fic is getting. I thought maybe a handful of people would read this. It's a pet project of mine and I didn't think it would interest anyone but myself. It's amazing to have you on this journey with me. SO MANY THANKS TO ALL OF YOU: Yunrii, Chiasmus, Kaiya Azure, ingol, xenocanaan, DiCuoreAllison, Marian, Lady Hummingbird, rya-fire1, Leahcar-Soutaichou, Zero, Guest (x4), Death's Apostle, reebajee, SanguineSky, jerri bo berri, musicisalifestyle, FireDancerNix, Maester Ta, Miqila, Kuroyuki no Ryu, marieeula24, xanaldy, Void child!
