Beauty Reborn- A Yu Yu Hakusho Fic.

Written by- Painin Uranus

.:AN:.

So, here I am, foolishly continuing what will most likely be a bomb in my side for the rest of my fan fiction-writing career. Okay, maybe not career, but my dream. I enjoy wring so much that I intend to become an author when I grow up. It seems like fun, and I find pleasure in composing pieces of who-knows-what. So, if you're reading this pathetic excuse for a AN and story, have fun for as long as it lasts. So, here's my most recent addition to Beauty Reborn…

Chapter 2: School Can Be A Second Hell...

School. Dictionary definition: A place where young children up to the age of 18 must attend to learn.

Kurama's definition: A place where young children up to the age of 18 must attend to either follow him around or torment him to the end of his days—or good looks; which ever came first.

At least, that's what it would be later on in his life. Right now, he was still planning out how he would survive his first year of this human confinement prison for the adolescence. The whole experience was new to him—he had never been surrounded by younger, and older, children than him, though he seemed to be the eldest of them all due to his maturity level. After all, he was still the 700+-year old Yoko Kurama sealed inside a human boy. The school held students up to the 6th grade, mostly kids around the age of 11 and 12-year olds that made sure that they were far away from the 'younger' children. They were, compared to Suichi's small form, large and bulky kids, with muscles as strong as their B.O.

And they, compared to Yoshiro and Hiroshi, were skinny, little ants that were being scared to death. They were as big as they came, standing over the students like they were Godzilla over Tokyo. And the scary bit of it was… they were only in 4th grade. And, when you're in 4th grade, you make sure that you make your last years at the school memorable.

For them, Kurama was Yoshiro and Hiroshi's way of earning a reputation. They would do subtle things—big enough to do some damage, but small enough to get away with it. They would trip him, "accidentally" shove him into a wall or a crowd of people, somehow trick him into talking loudly in the library—Kurama managed to control himself, though he could feel himself powering his energy until he almost stabbed them with one of his plants.

School in general seemed to irk him.

He was sitting in those uncomfortable plastic chairs that forced his chest to press against the hard edge of the wooden desk in front of him. He had a Study Link booklet that had all sorts of math sheets, a Mathematic Book that held all of his class work for that subject, and a couple folders for Writing and Reading topics. The classes were unusual, nothing he had ever heard of in his past demon life, but they were simple enough for his intelligent mind. He caught on quickly when completely different matters were introduced, and aced every test that had been given to him. He was so advanced that he was raised to higher levels of teachings that were not all that complicated. It made him wish even more that he was at least back at his house with his rose bush, which had started to form beautiful roses with rich, intense coloring.

His social life was non-existent. Kurama had no friends, the only companionable conversations were with his tutors and even that was strained because they treated him like a child barely able to understand big words. The other kids always stared at him with distaste, as if it were his fault that he was academically gifted than they. And it's not as if he hadn't tried to be friendly—they just didn't understand what he was saying.

The only thing that made him happy was recess.

Of course, he didn't run around trying to kick a ball or rock as high as he could on the swing set. No, he hid himself in the field concealed by the trailers where the older kids were taught. There were plenty of plants that earned his interest for the limited amount of time he was allowed outside. Lilies, wildflowers, daisies, and—his first and only favorite—rose bushes. All had needed his immediate attention, taking most of his energy to help them recover from their lack of care. The result had earned him a ninty-eight percent on his math test that he had taken as soon as recess ended instead of the usual persistent score of one hundred percent, envious perfection.

It was at such a place that Yoshiro and Hiroshi found the young Kurama fondling the flower petals with admiration and respect. He had his back turned and he was too distracted to actually notice their bulky forms until they were blocking the sun's blanket of warmth that had wrapped both he and the flowers in its embrace. The two bullies, Yoshiro and Hiroshi, were actually planning on playing kickball with the other 4th graders, but had coincidentally spotted the small red-headed boy buried in the thicket, completely oblivious to the world around him. It was too good a chance to pass up.

"Well, well, well," Yoshiro chuckled softly. "Look what we have here, Hiroshi! It seems that our favorite little friend is playing with his little flowers!"

"Yes, maybe he forgot his dolls at home and he didn't have anyone to share theirs with. Maybe we can help him, Yoshi. What do you think?"

"That's a pretty good idea. Hey, Suichi," he mocked innocently. "Would you like to play with us?"

Kurama turned slightly and simply stared up with calm eyes, but there was that ever-consistent hidden look of uncertainty buried deep in them.

"I need no help of yours," he said slowly, doubtfully standing up and staring into their cold, seemingly emotionless eyes. "Please, leave me be and return to your immature and bullying antics. Do so, and I will not tell the teacher that you have been bothering me once again."

"Huh?" Yoshi asked his partner with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Hiro agreed with the opposite eyebrow raised.

Kurama sighed. "Please leave me alone or I will tell the teacher," he said, making sure that he said it in the simplest terms possible.

They smirked at each other again and, suddenly, Yoshi quickly punched Kurama in the gut. His eyes widened and he bent forward, collapsing to his knees once more as Yoshi pulled his fist away. He started to cough as the wind was forcefully knocked out of his lungs, and he gasped as he hugged his stomach tightly, fighting to regain his breath.

But, he was not given the chance.

Hiro unexpectedly plowed his foot into his unprotected forehead, forcing him to arch his back and fall with a loud thud among the beautiful flowers. He cried out as he felt the back of his head connect to a sharp rock buried in the dirt, his warm blood soiling his vibrant red hair as it trickled down his neck onto the ground below. Rolling onto his stomach, he made an attempt to rise up, but was kicked once more in his abdomen before he could fully push himself up. He was rolling again, and coughed out a mouthful of a crimson liquid that he was not use to seeing come out of his own body. It enraged him even further when he heard evil laughter of Yoshiro and Hiroshi behind him, and as Hiro ground his foot into the small of his back—he snapped.

Without warning, Hiroshi was thrown backwards by the sudden mounting of Kurama, with his cold, furious, emerald eyes replacing his usually calm and loving ones. His hands soon found themselves balling into fists at his sides, and he considered using the plants to slaughter the disrespectful boys. He then decided that he wanted to hurt them directly, without the aid of his powers to fulfill this meaningless task.

Kurama struck swiftly, forcing the remaining boy to cry out loudly in agonizing pain as his fist buried itself deep in his stomach, effectively breaking a couple ribs. Looking on emotionlessly, Suichi then proceeded to pick him up by the hair and kick him repetitively in the groin, causing even more yelps of pain to be emitted by the squealing monstrous boy. With one last kick to the head, he sent the boy flying through the crowd of kids—wait, crowd of kids?

This shocking fact quickly was dismissed by his enraged mind as he watched with vicious glee as the young boy crashed headfirst into the broadside of the trailer, falling limply to the ground, most likely unconscious. He turned his steely gaze to the shaking Hiro and walked over to him with deliberately slow steps, doing his best to intimidate the human without his demon form to complete the technique. He stopped when he was standing right in front of him and squatted down so that the two were at eye-level. Kurama stared deep into the boy's young eyes, and saw with rage that he was still looking down at him with those bullying eyes, despite his acts of pain. Putting his youthful hand behind the adolescence's head, he swiftly slammed it into the ground, forcing it to cover it with dirt and grime. Deciding that it wasn't enough of a punishment, Suichi picked up the boy once more by the hair, and started to punch and kick him like he was some form of a punching bag. Howls of torturing agony filled the still air, and Suichi found that the sobs were not as pleasing to the ear as he remembered them to be a long while ago, and he gritted his teeth with frustration when he discovered that he didn't like this at all. With one last kick, he sent the boy flying backwards with a sickening thud a couple meters away.

And that's when everything came back in focus. Standing straight with a smirk on his face quickly changed to that of a shaking little boy with wide eyes and shivering limbs, which had been weapons of mass destruction only a few moments before. Kurama's eyes darted around the scenery, taking in all of the information it held—the dent in the trailer where Yoshi had hit it head on, the motionless body of Hiro only a few feet away, the stream of his own blood pooling at his feet—

"Suichi!"

Turning to the voice with fear, he held his hands up like he was trying to ward off a blow to the head. The sight that met his eyes was of an angry teacher, with her hands on her hips. It wasn't just any teacher—it was the Vice Principal. Ms. Hidori.

"Suichi, what in the world have you done!" she practically screamed, her eyes shooting from Yoshiro, to Hiroshi, to Kurama himself.

Before Kurama knew what he was doing, he sunk down onto the hard ground, pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, buried his face in his knees… and cried. His tears flowed freely, his heart-wrenching sobs getting the better of the Vice Principal as she walked slowly over to the weeping young boy, who was no more than 6 years old. Squatting down beside him, she took him into her arms and let him bawl his head off into her chest, her eyes filled with hurt from hearing such sorrow being emitted by the small boy, who had shown her such kindness and one of the most intellectual conversations she had ever had in such a long time.

Threading her young hands through his burning hair, she noted that there was blood coming from a wound in the back of his head. And, by the way his cries increased in volume and intensity, and jerked away from her gentle touch, she could tell that it was deep.

Automatically stroking his small back, she whispered, "It's okay, Suichi, shhhh…" then turned to the others and said, "I need one of you to fetch a nurse from the main office. Tell her to call 9-1-1 and get over here with first aid as soon as possible." Everyone immediately complied, rushing around and yelling out orders to each other as Ms. Hidori continued to comfort Kurama and whisper sweet nothings in his ear in an effort to calm him.

After a few moments, Kurama managed to control himself, allowing his usual calmness and composure to confine him once more. At the exact same moment, a nurse came running, flanked by the two young helpers that had sent for her, carrying first aid equipment for the injured boys.

A gentle hand was soon applying a stinging substance to the back of Kurama's head, making him wince in pain and grip his pant legs tightly.

"Well, that makes things easier," the nurse said with a surprised and pleased tone, a small smile playing across her lips. "Usually I'm dealing with kicking and screaming patients when I use this stuff. Makes it more difficult to help with the healing, and I sometimes have to take drastic measures, if you know what I mean." Kurama remained silent, his squinting eyes staring straight ahead while she continued to apply the substance to his wound. "Don't know what you kids were doing, this gouge is deep. I suspect you hit your head on a rock?" Still, Kurama remained silent. "I don't know how you did it, Hun, but you really did a number on those two trouble-makers, can't say that they don't deserve it, I've had to nurse more kids beaten by them than the number of freckles on Yoshiro's face, but I think you went overboard, don't you?" Silence.

"Geez, with the cold shoulder, I would have actually preferred you screaming and crying," she muttered with a grim smile, finishing off her nurturing with a last gentle wipe to clean away the crusted blood and dirt before wrapping it with the white medical cloth.

The ambulance arrived a short while later, carrying a medical unit in its' compartment with stretchers that they forced Kurama to lay on along with Yoshiro and Hiroshi. They said they were going to check for any brain damage as well as broken bones, internal injuries and such. Kurama knew it was a waste of time—there was nothing wrong with his human body and, if there was, he would be able to heal himself on his own, without the need for these drugs and medicines that the humans seemed to rely on all too much for his liking.

His first experience at the human's hospital was not pleasant, nor interesting, so it would be a waste of time to describe it in detail. All that he cared to remember was when he had been allowed to return home, his heart still filled with subdued loathing for all humans—save his mother. Despite the straightforwardness of the whole event, Shiori had been crying and worrying over her precious child, refusing to believe that he had gotten himself into a fight and, even though he had won, earned himself a serious injury.

"Mother, I assure you, I am perfectly fine, these doctors are stressing over nothing, I swear to you," he had said for the tenth time as his mother held him once more in a crushing hug, patting her on the back as if uncomfortable with the affection.

"My poor baby, I don't know what you were thinking, taking on those boys, they were practically three heads taller than you, you should've known that you were only going to get hurt…" she had sobbed out, rocking back and forth with the small child in her arms struggling to breathe yet again.

"Mother I couldn't just let them do what they wished another moment, they were hurting everyone."

"Violence never solves anything," she said, and those words had branded themselves in his head for the rest of the visit there.

Once he had returned to school, everyone was acting jittery around him. Yoshiro and Hiroshi were back as well, though keeping their distance with the usually tempting child, who seemed so easy to beat down. Yoshiro remembered with a dreadful shiver the pain he had went through and how he had only got away with a couple broken ribs and a throbbing private area. Hiroshi, on the other hand, practically collapsed to his knees as Kurama walked by innocently, reminiscing the numerous broken bones and black-and-blue markings all over his body that he had earned from their foolish escapade.

That alone had annoyed Kurama and that, along with the various rumors and whisperings that had followed him around for the longest time, had made the young boy stone-faced and irritable. No matter what he did or where he went, fearful whispers and cautious murmurs followed behind him, speaking of phobias that even he was appalled by. Frightened eyes were glued to his small body everywhere, like if they were to remove their gaze, they would wind up beaten and bruised, left on the ground like Hiroshi and Yoshiro.

Never had Kurama disliked the feeling he was getting from these children. Fear was not what he wanted anymore—he learned that much and it still make him shiver in self-disgust. How he had operated so easily with it pursuing him so consistently when he was in his true form—his true life—was a baffling mystery for the boy. The once-strengthening feeling of the terror he had on so many weak demons was now a disease that he longed to be rid of.

It was then that he realized that he could never live the way he once did, his way of coping with death was altered—he no longer wished for blood for his hands to bathe in, never wanted to smell the decaying flesh of a deceased demon, would never long for battle with no purpose…

He was no longer the cold-hearted, blood-lusting, ruthless Yoko Kurama.

.:AN:.

I know, it wasn't all that great, but I really do like it when Kurama fights. It's just so... graceful and dangerous at the same time! (sighs) They made him look so weird when he fought Karasu without his Rose Whip and stuff... but it was probably because "he has a plan. You can see it as he moves"-- that's what Hiei said! Hee, hee, hee... anyways, I love that last line. It makes me shiver! So, please tell me what you think! Later!

Sayanora!

Painin Uranus a.k.a. P.U.