Kind of lame, but it rounds everything off nicely.

Secrets of the Journal

Gabriel, having finished her bath, tiptoed into the forbidden room belonging to her foster father. She was never allowed in his room, or to touch his personal possessions. He was not present in the room, or the rest of the apartment. She walked around his queen-sized bed, donned with black and maroon sheets. Only the pillow on the left side showed any signs of use at all; though he was a handsome man, he did not entertain or date, he was truly a lone wolf. His furniture was also black wood and dark tapestries covered the walls. He was not dark, only mysterious as his personal decor dictated. She sat down at his desk and quickly poked around the files on his computer; finding nothing that was unordinary she continued searching elsewhere.

The contents of his desk, his dresser and his closet; she unearthed them all and found nothing. Running her hands through her damp hair, she sat on the edge of his bed and groaned. Could he have gotten rid of it after all these years? She had seen him write it from time to time, so carefully and discreetly, it seemed very important; any answer he needed, he would always look it up in his journal. What intrigued her most about the worn little composition of leather was the cover, the design of a human and a wolf had always seemed familiar to her. But where was it!

Gabriel flopped back to lie on his pillow; her brain raced and she felt underneath the pillow. Nothing; it was too predictable for him to have hidden it there. Unless… she reached underneath the pillow that was never used on the right side of the bed and pulled out the coveted book. She squealed and sat up.

The journal flipped open of its own will and the writing inside began to glow. With a shriek, she dropped it on the floor and scooted back on the bed. A sharp wind flowed from the flipping pages, and with it, sparks of light. Before she could reach for a talisman or other catalysts of exorcism, a calm light settled on the pages and a familiar voice filled the room; it was the voice of Daren, speaking from the pages of the journal.

My dearest Gabriel, you are a clever one to have found this journal after all this time. I must say that I am very proud to have raised you. If you are reading this, or should I say listening, then you are seeking answers to very important questions.

While the voice paused to go to the next paragraph, she crept closer and picked the book up.

I know you must feel very afraid and confused; I predicted you would be when you found my journal; you must remain calm and pay close attention to my words. All of them are true, but very secret. I will start at the beginning-

A knock at the door made her jump and slam the book closed. She frantically stuffed the book back underneath the pillow and dashed out of the room to answer the door. She opened the door as wide as the chain lock would allow. It was Kurama. She said nothing. He said nothing. Both of their faces were emotionless. She looked behind her to see the digital clock in the kitchen; the large red letters read 2:30 am. She closed the door and undid the lock. Opening the door all the way, she gestured for him to come in. She led him to the kitchen and opened the fridge, retrieving a soda for herself and for Kurama. She was pissed off at him, but she would be damned before she was a bad hostess.

"I knew you would still be awake, that's why I came over so late." He began, rolling the cold drink between his palms.

"You seem to know a lot about me." She said coldly and took a sip of her drink.

He laughed wryly, "On my way here, I thought to myself, 'We have to talk,' but… where do I begin?"

"You can start at the beginning. If you really believe me to be someone else, someone you knew, how did you know it was me in the first place."

"You share the same name, and the same face."

"There could be thousands of Gabriel Púrenards roaming the earth. And don't you think your memory of her could have gotten fuzzy after twenty years as a human?" she snapped.

"You also have her scent; correct me if I'm wrong, you also take psychology, but scent is the strongest sense tied to memory."

"So what? Maybe you were just smelling the scent of a human?"

"You really don't want to be her, do you?"

She slammed her can down on the table and stood up, "Damn it Kurama! I'm not her! It's not that the thought of being your wife isn't appealing, it's that it can't possibly be true! How, if I am she, did I end up here? How did I go from being a spirit fox, forty years ago, and be a twenty-year-old human now! The numbers don't add up!"

Kurama, struggling to contain himself, answered calmly, "There is always a way. I was a spirit fox for three hundred years, and turned into a human for the last two decades."

"And just how were you able to retain your memories? I don't have any recollection of that past. As far as I know, I just read the memories left behind in that old place. I'm a shaman, remember?"

"I'm not sure on that part. My Youko side is sure convinced; perhaps you have amnesia."

"Amnesia is incredibly rare, and that does not explain why I'm human now." She sighed and leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen.

Kurama was silent for a few minutes, sipping his drink thoughtfully. "Tetsujins are also capable of shape shifting, are they not?"

"Kurama," she groaned, "I don't want to hurt you." She sat down again, "I also don't want to live a lie."

"Just humor me with one last theory, and I will never speak of this again." He said desperately. Gabi blew out another sigh and nodded. "If you would please, show me your left shoulder."

"Why?"

"I marked her there. If you are her, it should still be there."

Gabriel pulled her shirt down on her left shoulder, revealing smooth, unmarred skin. At first it shocked him, then it came as no surprise. He had seen her bare shoulders at the beach, and again when he showed her his youko form. 'No…how could both Genkai and Koenma be wrong! But…facts don't change.' He tried to swallow, but his throat had swelled up in sadness. He gave a nod of dismissal and she pulled her shirt back up. He stood and walked out of the kitchen to the front door. Gabriel followed him, stopping him before he reached the doorknob. "I'm sorry," she whispered. He nodded, turning, "I want you to have this," he said and gave her a green bundle, "I gave it to her a long time ago; I know now you are someone completely different, but I hope we can part ways in peace."

"Part ways…"

Kurama nodded, "I don't think we should ever see each other again; I would be haunted by your face, your name, and your spirit." Stricken with grief, she wrapped her arms around him, "I'll miss you, Kurama." She said into his shoulder.

He found his mouth pressed against hers, with his hand tangled in her sweet, damp hair. His mouth worked against hers, in tempo with the beating of their hearts. Her hands worked out a knot in his neck, relieving stress and pent up anxiety. His other hand pressed the small of her back, melding her against him when he stopped and pulled away. They found no words to say to each other, only sad expressions. He walked backwards out her door, savoring his last look at her, her hair hanging over her eyes, her fist to her lips, and her cheeks ruddy.

"Good-bye."