Here with another off the wall story no one asked for! That's right, I'm making a YYH story right now while I try to gather the muse I need to continue with my LOtR story. (To those of you that are still waiting for a new chapter, I sincerely apologize.) I failed to write a little Author's blurb at the beginning of the first chapter here because I was in such a rush to post it, I completely forgot. But here I am, annoying you guys instead of letting you just get on with the story. Shame on me, right?
Anyway, I just want you all to know I'm not dead, I'm still alive and I'm still writing. Just not exactly the story some of you are expecting, that's all.
Not much to say here other than to thank you for taking the time to read this and hopefully review it as well. If any of you know me at all, you know reviews are what fuel my writing ability. Even something as small as 'good job!' or 'Can't wait for the next one!' Though granted, I really do love the longer ones quite a bit.
Onward and upward!
-I do NOT own YYH or it's characters
-I DO own Shohei (Nick) and the plot (somewhat? I mean, I am following the story from the start and all but things are gonna be different obviously with an original character tossed in the middle. It's more or less a fine line I'm walking here.)
~*~PLEASE REVIEW~*~
Our first years of life were... Awkward at best. I don't enjoy thinking about them at all other than a few memorable moments. One such moment that causes me endless joy and Kurama idle amusement was the day I realized my gender. With Kurama being a possessive little shit and our Mother's reluctance to separate us due to his habit of squalling at the top of his lungs whenever she tried to pick me up without him in tow, it took me much longer to realize it was me she was calling 'such a good boy'. I suppose, compared to my twin's actions, I probably seemed tame.
It took some time, but I finally managed to get my point across to Kurama that acting the way he was, was not in his best interests in the long term. I may have fudged a few truths and concocted a few white lies to get him to listen. But eventually he settled down some, till clingy a hell, but he stopped protesting every time she picked me up.
Granted our conversations weren't in depth like they were before. Words were difficult to share, most of the time we communed through vague emotion, flickering images or colors. But if one of us focused hard enough. We could pass words, Kurama insisted it would get better with practice. I'm not so sure it was a good idea to be honest. I mean, the guy was already possessive enough, I shudder to think how much worse it would get if he had an open link to my mind. Last thing I needed was him to start pissing matches with guys I found attractive in the future.
Another instance I recall upon fondly was a time sometime after our father passed where our Mother enrolled us in a local daycare in an effort to free up time to search for a job.
We had been situated in a corner, away from the other children, somewhere in the three to four years of age. Both of us having decided it would be pointless to try and interact considering our mental ages, instead choosing to practice our hand-eye coordination by tossing a ball back and forth. When it came to my turn to catch the ball, I fumbled, dropping it to my annoyance and watch it roll away, debating if it was worth getting up to retrieve. While I sat there, staring at the orange toy, a pair of hands appeared, picking it up and causing my gaze to drift towards the owner's face.
It was a boy with black hair, cut in the choppy fashion that a hasty home haircut always looked. I glanced over at Kurama curiously, not entirely sure if he still wanted to play our little training game anymore. He pursed his lips a moment then clambered to his feet and walked over to the boy, a hand held out for the toy he still held. When all he did was stare at my twin, I sighed and climbed to my feet as well and joined him. "Ball please." I stumbled through the Japanese phrase with some measure of frustration. I was born and raised American up until my death. Learning an entirely new language from scratch was difficult and frustrating.
"Your hair is weird." The boy finally blurted, pointing at Kurama's head. Despite our being twins, for some odd reason, Kurama came out with the red hair I remembered so fondly, but I had been blessed with our Mother's black hair. Our eyes were the same, our faces identical, but for some unnamed reason, my hair was annoyingly different.
Kurama stiffened at the boy's statement, a hand reaching up to touch his short hair with a look of confusion coloring his features. To be honest, I wasn't surprised. Children of all cultures were known for being bluntly honest and sometimes cruel. But the bewildered look my twin sent me made my irritation at the boy spike.
"Your... Face is... Odd." I stumbled out, snatching the ball from his hands and thrusting it into Kurama's with a silent nudge to his shoulder, I guided him back to our spot so we could continue our game, ignoring the sudden wail the boy made when he realized the ball was gone. Needless to say, our Mother was cautioned to teach us proper manners when she came to pick us up later that day.
But the look of pride on her face when Kurama explained what happened later stuck with me, as well as the words that accompanied it. "Protecting your brother is wonderful, Shohei. But be mindful of other's feeling as well."
Shohei, named after our Father, still was hard for me to come to terms with being my name. I had simply nodded and ducked my head in what I hoped to be a suitable show of contrition before she excused me so I could go to the room Kurama and I shared to get ready for bed.
There were times where Kurama and I would stay up after we were sure our Mother was asleep and practice. He would coax me through Japanese every night until I passed out. But thanks to his stubborn nature, I finally began to grasp it properly by the time our sixth birthday rolled around.
During all of this,Kurama's powers slowly grew. We would sit in the backyard while Mother made dinner, me watching as he tested his abilities on the plants there. First just coaxing the grass to grow, making it shrink, shift colors then bend and do as he bit it. It was a slow progress, but one he insisted was important. Granted, I knew and understood that. I was still wary of how close we were to his self-appointed ten year mark.
It was one such day I was watching him make a vine crawl up the trunk of a tree that I was struck with the feeling of intense jealousy. Here he was, using his energy to grow plants and control them with nothing more than his will, and then there was me: unable to do anything at all but watch. Sensing my sudden shift in emotion, Kurama turned his attention away from the ivy in front of him, making it wither without his focus. "What?" He asked curiously, watching me get to my feet and start pacing back and forth in agitation.
"I can't do stuff like that." I finally admitted reluctantly after a few passes in front of him then plopped on the ground with a sigh. "I thought I would be able to by now but I can't."
He visibly tensed at my words, green eyes sharp as he studied my agitated movements. "Have you been trying?" His childish voice sounding ridiculous with such a serious tone. I flinched just then realizing the fact I openly admitted to practicing using spirit energy in secret. "Shohei, I said that was dangerous."
I bit my lip and looked down at my hands, my useless, energy-less hands. "I just wanted to-"
"Not without me." He cut in, anger lacing his tone now, making me duck my head down farther, fingers now fiddling with the cuff on my pants nervously.
"But you never help me." I frowned, not looking up from the loose thread that called for my complete attention. "You always say we will, but we never do." Pulling it free, I let it flutter to the ground and finally looked up at Kurama, surprised at the look of guilt on his face. "Ku-" I caught myself with a shake of the head. I kept forgetting to use his human name when other people were nearby. "Shuichi, what is it?"
He sighed lightly and plucked a piece of grass. "I..." He trailed off, frowning slightly as he fiddled with the small blade in his hands. Whatever he wanted to say obviously escaping him for the moment. "Your spirit energy is still weak." Kurama finally admitted, looking up at me. "For a human child, it is strong, but..."
"But it isn't strong enough to do anything." I finished dully, watching the grass in his fingers slowly lengthen and shorten as he turned it around and around. His hum of reluctant agreement made me grimace and fall back so I could stare at the sky. "If that is true, then if you take me to demon world with you, I'll be completely helpless."
"There is no 'if'." He butted in firmly, refusing to back down on the familiar discussion of his return with me in tow. "I will not leave you here with them." The obvious distaste in his vice making me bristle in response.
"In case you forgot, I'm human too." I snapped, growing wearing of this constant back and forth and closing my eyes.
"My human." Was his only response before Mother called out the back door to let us know it was time for dinner. Ignoring my twin, I jumped to my feet, adopting a childish grin and running up to her, wrapping my arms around her waist with a big smile.
Sensing his irritation at my insistence to cling to our Mother, I looked over my shoulder at him and stuck my tongue out at his annoyed expression. "I'm gonna eat all the dumplings before you can, Shuichi!" I called, my speech shifting into more informal terms and using vowels geared more towards children. His green eyes widened a moment before he sprinted after me into the house with a childish cry of distress.
Despite his distaste for humans and our Mother, even he was hard-pressed to say anything bad about her cooking. I giggled, a bubbly feeling of happiness growing in my chest as he chased after me. It was tiring acting like children all the time, but now and again, it had it's perks. I skid to a stop by the kitchen table and climbed into my chair seconds before Kurama. Smiling triumphantly at my small win against him, I reached for my chopsticks before stopping and glancing around the table.
"No glasses." I finally sighed, looking over at my twin, his eyes flicked over the table before realizing I was right. Sharing a look, we reluctantly left our places and the smells of food for the kitchen where Mother already stood, putting the finishing touches on dessert.
"What is it, boys?" She asked when we trailed into the spotless room, normally by this point we were sitting in our chairs waiting impatiently for her to join us so we could eat.
"We need glasses." I explained, looking up at her as Kurama climbed onto the counter to reach the cabinet they were in.
"Oh, Shuichi, I'll get those. It's too dangerous for you!" She cried when she turned around to see her youngest son standing on the narrow ledge of the sink.
"I can get them, Mother." He replied easily enough, stretching on his toes to grab for the first glass, his other hand holding onto the shelf to keep his balance. Once he managed to wrap his fingers around the glass, however, the shelving shifted, sliding outward towards him and making his foot slip.
Time slowed, my eyes and mouth opening wide as I watched my twin slip backwards in surprise, the shelf he was holding sliding loose and following him down, the glass cups on it falling right after. "Shuichi!" Mother cried, diving forward, her arms wrapping around him as the glass rained down, a deafening shatter as they broke apart on the floor making me flinch. Mother cried out as her arms and hands landed on the shards below, cradling Kurama securely to her chest, keeping him away from the sharp pieces littering the floor.
"Mother!" I cried, wanting to move forward, but not wanting to risk cutting my feet open. I hesitated a moment, unwilling to leave them, then turned and ran into the entryway, snatching up my shoes before running back to the kitchen, stopping long enough to slip them on my bare feet. Silently apologizing to Mother for wearing them in the house while I did so then walked in carefully.
Glass crunched under the rubber soles as I made my way over to where they were, my voice weak as I called out. "Shuichi?" I came to a stop and crouched down to try and catch sight of his face while I spoke. He shifted at the sound of my voice, slowly inching his way out from under our Mother, his wide eyes staring at her and the bloody cuts littering her arms. Reaching out, I put a hand on his shoulder, making him jerk and stare up at me. Without a word, I motioned for him to climb up on my back, dangerous but needed in our current situation, he was still barefoot, I was not.
Carrying him slowly, I kept one hand on the counter to keep my balance as I gingerly stepped past where the glass lay and put him down. "You need to call for an ambulance." I said firmly, grabbing his shoulders and making him look at me with those same wide eyes.
"She... She saved me, why?" He finally spoke, the question whispered, confusion lacing his tone as his gaze drifted back to the woman struggling to sit up in the kitchen.
"Focus! Call for an ambulance." I shook him lightly, regaining his attention. Staring at me a moment, resolve darkening his eyes before nodding and turning away. Once he ran off to get the phone, I returned to the kitchen, searching the drawers until I found the dishtowels. Grabbing all of them, I walked over to where Mother sat, arms trembling with the strain of holding herself up off the floor. "Mother?"
"Shohei! Don't, you'll get cut-" She started to protest then stopped when she caught sight of my shoes and smiled weakly. "Such a smart boy."
I offered her an apologetic smile and held out the towels to her. "Wrap your arms, Mother. It'll help stop the bleeding. Shuichi is calling for an ambulance."
Her eyes flashed with sudden fear at the mention of her other son. "Shuichi! Is he-"
"I'm here, Mother." Kurama's voice drifted from behind me. Turning around, I studied his expression as he held the phone to his ear. "I'm fine."
Our mother breathed a sigh of relief, smiling tenderly at Kurama who physically stirred, his wide eyes blinking several times before a voice on the phone called for his attention. "Yes, she is awake." He answered quickly, his eyes roaming over her as I tried to help her tie the towels around her arms. "She's- She's bleeding from her arms." His voice pitched to something close to panic. "My brother is helping her wrap towels around them."
I chanced another glance in his direction, worried he was about to loose it. "Shuichi..."
He met my gaze, panic starting to shine in his eyes as he watched our Mother slowly bleed out on the normally spotless kitchen floor. Closing them, he took a deep breath and rattled off our address to whoever was on the line. He paused to listen and clenched his teeth. "Please hurry." He finally begged, his eyes snapping open and refusing to move away from our Mother's paling face.
The next few minutes were a blur, both Kurama and I trying to keep her awake while waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Despite our efforts, though, she fainted just moments before it did. I was trying to hold her up off the glass when there was a pounding on the door. Kurama jumped and raced to open it, letting the paramedics through.
I was shifted out of the kitchen and over to where Kurama stood, Our hands finding each other as we watched the men and women swarming into our home work on our Mother, assessing the damage then carefully shifting her onto the stretcher they wheeled in. The pastel towels wrapped around her arms bled through in some places, the red permanently staining the once peaceful colors.
A haze of questions and our mumbled answers later, we were hustled into a police car that followed close behind the ambulance she was in. The officer driving glancing in the rear view now and again at us as we sat silently, hands still grasped tight to ensure we weren't alone. After what seemed to be an eternity later the car finally came to a stop in front of the hospital, the officer parking it and climbing out to open the door for us so we could too.
We followed him inside quietly, not even paying attention as he spoke to the woman behind the front desk there quietly then turned to face us, crouching down so we could see eye-to-eye. "Now, boys." He stated gently with a firm expression. "You may wait here in the waiting room. If you do not cause any trouble, you may be allowed to see your Mother when she leaves surgery. Is there any place you can stay until she is better?"
We stared at him silently before slowly nodding our heads. Our grandmother lived on the other side of the city, but neither of us knew her phone number, which I told the kind officer softly, embarrassed despite the look of understanding that crossed his face. "You two are remarkable boys." He finally said, resting a hand on Kurama's shoulder. "You kept your heads, called for an ambulance and made sure to try and stop the bleeding. Don't hang your heads, you two did a wonderful job."
Looking up at him, I felt the uncontrollable urge to cry at his reassuring smile. Kurama squeezed my hand lightly, reminding me I wasn't alone. "Don't you worry about getting a hold of your grandmother. We will take care of that. You two go sit down and I will bring you something to eat in a moment." At our blank expressions, his face softened once again and got to his feet, guiding us to a quiet corner of the waiting room. "Your table was set for dinner, right? From how it looked, none of you got a chance to eat."
Vaguely I remembered racing Kurama to the table for dinner. A startling change from happy to scared and worried made me wince at the memory. Seeing this, the officer gently rested a hand on my head in an attempt to comfort me. "You two sit here until I get back. Be mindful of the other people waiting here with you." He reminded gently before walking away and leaving us alone. I looked over at Kurama and squeezed his hand tightly, getting his attention.
"She'll be OK." I said finally, a weak smile decorating my face as he stared quietly at me. "I promise."
"You knew this would happen." He stated rather than asked, making me flinch and look down at where my feet dangled above the floor, nodding reluctantly. "You couldn't tell me." Another statement, another nod before we both lapsed into silence again. I felt so guilty over all of this. Honestly, I knew it would happen, but up until I saw Kurama slip, I had no idea it would be right that moment.
"I'm not angry." His quiet voice brought me out of my guilty spiral. "You already told me you wouldn't say anything you knew would happen." He continued, staring straight ahead while he spoke, the reassuring grip he held on my hand easing my fears somewhat. "I agreed it would be best. Do not blame yourself." I couldn't help the soft sound of distress that slipped from me as I reached over and hugged him, my body sagging with relief at his words.
"Thank you." I whispered gratefully, letting myself finally relax for the first time since I saw Kurama slip from his perch on the sink. I sat up after a few moments, brushing a few stray tears away and settling back against the chair with a weak sigh, eyes closing as I attempted to calm the trembling that assaulted me.
It wasn't long after that the officer returned with something for us to eat that our Grandmother arrived. A quiet, honorable lady, she called for respect even from Kurama on some of his worst days. We rarely spent time with her, not for any other reason than the commute to get to her home was long and tiring whenever we did travel to visit. She quietly sat with us while we ate then came with when we were finally allowed to see our Mother. Despite our eagerness to see her, she was unfortunately asleep by the time we walked to her room.
Giving us enough time to touch her bandaged hands and say our goodbyes, our Grandmother turned and lead us from the hospital towards the train station. She explained to us in her soft voice that our mother lost a lot of blood and would require at least two weeks in the hospital to recover enough to return home, and until she was we were to stay with her. While our Grandmother was a gentle woman, the idea wasn't the best for either of us. All we wanted was to turn around and go back to our Mother's side.