Title: Kuchisake-Shonen: The Slit-Mouth Boy

Genre: horror, romance, hurt/comfort, drama, supernatural

Rating: T+ for language and strong violence

Pairings: JohanXJudai

Summary: Legend holds that several years ago, a suburban town was terrorized by a man whose beautiful face had been grotesquely disfigured with a Glasgow smile, also known as a Chelsea grin. Roaming the streets wearing a long red ski parka and carrying large scissors, the man would approach his young victims and, while removing the mask, ask if he was pretty. The victim's response, if it were the wrong one, would almost always lead to their violent death. Now, one by one, teenagers and young adults are disappearing again. As teachers and officials desperately begin to investigate, a panic begins to build as the man returns for some unfinished business and the town's dark secrets are exposed. But, the man's dark reign of terror might be over just as soon as it begins when he meets a young man who completely captivates his heart.

Me: All right, everyone!

Lucy: Chapter one, and the official start of the Kuchisake-Shonen story, is finally updated and ready to be read!

Me: We hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Lucy: Please enjoy!

Chapter One: The Slit-Mouth's Best Friend

Judai Yuki trudged through eternity, never aging, never moving a step from the one sliver of time he had been given. Today, he used that immortal sliver of time to walk through the park, eyes gliding over the playing children. They did not have a reason to fear him, as he wasn't carrying his scissors in his hand. They were a soul weapon; easily retracted into the body when they weren't useful. It made it so much easier to move around amongst the unknowing humans he wasn't hunting.

"Geez. I don't even know why I got into this stupid business in the first place." Judai closed his eyes; his senses guided him so he didn't crash.

For as long as he could remember, he'd been a Kuchisake.

Of course, he had memories of his life as a human, but they were fuzzy and hard to read. The one memory he had that was as clear as his ones as a Kuchisake was Setsuko's face just before he cut Judai apart with his infamous switchblade. His hideous face; round pale cheeks, beady black eyes, long dark green hair tied in a red ribbon. Judai could still remember, in his last moments as a human, when Setsuko screamed, "Who'll think you're beautiful now?" The pain was a memory, but it hurt. Judai reached up and touched the surgical mask covering his mouth. He could feel the bumps of his scars just underneath his fingertips.

The scars are healed, the cuts are gone, he thought. But they still...hurt.

His brown eyes burned. He immediately turned away from the eyes of the humans around him. He didn't want them to see him crying.

As a Kuchisake, Judai was supposed to refrain from speaking to humans who he was not hunting. If he spoke to a human at all, it was because he had plans to cut them apart. "This job is not a social experience! We are monsters; get it through your head!" Taeko had told him that a long time ago...He couldn't forget it even if he wanted to. Taeko's face, so much like his own, hidden from the world, flashed through his mind. But that image was instantly replaced with an image of Setsuko, so set in his ways. Judai had other images of Setsuko, memories of right after he had become a Kuchisake, but that memory of him as he cut Judai's mouth open would stick with the yokai for as long as he lived. (Being immortal had its downsides, too.) Anger boiled inside him at the recollection of Setsuko, the one who'd ruined his life.

Damn him, damn him, damn him! Judai thought. He bit down on his lip, trying to keep himself calm. Otherwise, he might lose control, and...

"God, I gotta find a new hobby," he complained, slumping down on one of the abandoned park benches.

Looking up, he watched the humans swirl around him. Near the lake, a boy and a girl (brother and sister, maybe?) played tag with one another. Walking down the path by him jogged a middle-aged couple, talking and laughing with each other at a joke the husband had made. Two teenage boys tried to pick-pocket an old lady, but she caught them and beat them both over the head with her cane. A twenty-one year old pregnant woman about eight months along took a seat on a bench a few meters away from Judai, no doubt on-guard because of his surgical mask and inhumanly bright amber eyes.

I don't care what she thinks, Judai thought; the feeling of not-caring didn't last long.

In reality, Judai would have killed (not literally, of course) to have a human think kindly of him and accept him for what he was. But he knew they never would.

I'm a killer. He drew his knees up under his chin and hugged them, hiding his face from the humans. Not that they ever bothered to stop and ask how he was or anything. No human in the world would accept me for what I was. I'll never have any human friends. I can always talk to Jim (though he's such a pain in the ass, I prefer not to), but he's a demon, so he doesn't count. And there's no way in Hell Taeko would listen to my problems without going off on a lecture about how evil humans are. And besides...she's a Kuchisake, too, so she doesn't count, either. Oh, well. It doesn't matter. My human life was over the moment I refused to die after Setsuko cut me. I brought this on myself. Judai buried his head in his arms and exhaled; he hated being a yokai sometimes.

"Um, excuse me?"

Judai's head snapped up as if on a reflex; the voice had been close—right in front of him, to be exact.

Near the park bench, looking down at him, was a boy who looked to be about college age. Judai's mouth hung open under the surgical mask. God, he's cute! The boy had spiked blue hair and bright emerald green eyes, and was dressed up in a blue jacket and black jeans because of the cool weather the Falls in Japan brought. He had a bookbag slung over his shoulder, and he held two cups of coffee in his hands. He was smiling at Judai as if he'd known him for a long time. Of course he is, Judai thought sadly, because he thinks I'm human.

"Who the hell are you?" Judai hissed.

His eyes flashed; he tried pulsing his power to threaten the boy away. As much as he wanted a human friend, he didn't want one if they didn't accept him for what he was. Yet, as much as he tried to pulse his power to make the air around him threatening, the boy before him still didn't seem afraid.

"I know it's probably not any of my business, but you looked kind of down, so I wanted to come by and see what was bothering you," said the boy. "Can I sit down here?"

Judai stared at him with his harsh amber eyes, hoping to intimidate him and frighten him off before he grew too attached to him. The boy didn't leave; just kept smiling like a moron. Dammit all. "Sigh. I don't care what you do," Judai murmured, scooting over so the boy could sit down.

"Yay," grinned the bluenette, flopping down beside Judai.

The moment he sat down, Judai felt something. A warm breeze that came from nowhere tickled his nose; Judai reconized the scent, yet didn't know how. He turned and looked at the college boy beside him, who kept on smiling that angelic smile. Is it because of him? Judai wondered. He inhaled through his nose—the scent was incredible. He couldn't place a name to it. It's been a long time since I was around any pure-hearted human for a long time, he realized. That's what this scent is.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Judai jumped; the boy had spoken so suddenly, he wasn't prepared for it. "God, that was rude of me; I forgot to introduce myself. My name's Johan Andersen. What's yours?"

Judai hesitated. The one sliver of humanity he had left told him to be polite and tell Johan his name; the other half, the Kuchisake half, screamed, "Are you a fucking moron, Judai Yuki? You're a Kuchisake! You only go by that name according to humans!"

In this argument about being polite while not "on-duty", the human-sliver won yet again.

Human Sliver: 5,067 victories

Kuchisake Half: 126 victories

"Yuki," said Judai slowly and gently. "Judai Yuki."

"I like that name," said Johan with a big grin. "It's kind of catchy."

Judai smiled softly underneath the surgical mask. "Yours isn't half bad, either. You from out of Japan?"

"Europe," Johan smiled. "I hail from Denmark, but I came here to attend a college I really like. I'm studying to become a psychologist. What about you? You have to be about the same age as me, right? What college are you going to?"

The soft smile faded into a sad, light frown. Judai turned his head away. "Can't go to college," he said gently. I "died" before I finished high-school. I never graduated. "I...never finished high school, you see? So I can't go to any college to be anything."

"What? Never finished high school?" Johan sounded...genuinely concerned. "Why?"

Again, that sad frown appeared—Judai was glad Johan couldn't see underneath his surgical mask. "Something...happened. Something really bad. I got hurt really bad, and I just...couldn't bring myself to ever go back there again." It's not a lie, he realized with a faint smile.

Johan didn't seem convinced with that answer. "Why didn't you go to another high school?"

"You're going to be a psychologist, right?" Judai asked. Johan nodded. "Ever hear of generalization?" Again, Johan nodded, swelling with pride that he knew what Judai was talking about. "Well, after my accident, I assumed that all high schools would be the same way, so I never went back to any. And besides, I don't need college because I have no future." I'm not lying to him. I really don't have a future. I am forever stuck in this sliver of time, never moving forward, and unable to move back.

Now that he truly admitted it to himself after sitting near someone who did have a future, he realized just how sad and worthless his whole existence was.

"That can't be true," Johan murmured. "Everyone has a future.

Everyone who's alive. "Not me, kid," murmured Judai. "Everyone except me...and her."

Johan cocked his head to the side, perking up slightly. "Her?"

"It's no one."

"Oh." Johan lowered himself back onto the bench. He was sad, filled with pity for Judai. What kind of person claimed to have no future? As Johan stared at Judai, the more he felt something off about him. The air seemed to bend and twist all around him, and his eyes were so inhumanly bright that they seemed to glow with the light of the sun behind two brown lenses. The surgical mask covered something; a hidden secret from the world. A part of Johan would have given anything to learn it, to give Judai the help he needed to make something out of his future.

But another part of him wanted to run.

That part of him, the part he hated the most, could feel something dangerous swelling under the flesh of the one called Judai Yuki. Something bubbled and coiled like a cobra underneath his surgical mask, lying in wait until Johan did or said a certain thing that would seal his own fate.

Johan was startled by a loud beeping from his wrist. "Oh, geez!" He jumped up. "I'm going to be late for night class!"

He spun around; Judai caught his wrist. Electricity seemed to burn between Judai's cold flesh and Johan's. He shivered. Something was different and wrong about Judai, yet at the same time... At the same time, Johan felt a power inside him, a strange warmth that no one else in the world possessed. The light dancing behind his amber eyes, the mystery lurking behind his mask: Johan knew that two things awaited Judai's future. Incredible happiness or everlasting, evil torment. He didn't know how he knew, but he did.

Judai gently released his wrist. "I...usually come here every day around three," he murmured. Embarrassed, he turned his face away. "You have school before that, so why not come visit sometime?"

Johan smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow then, after classes."

Flashing Judai a peaceful look, he vanished into the crowd of people with his coffee cup. Judai watched until he vanished totally out of sight, and then his eyes flickered to the sky. A sort of warmth he hadn't felt since he was human, the kind of warmth the dead never forgot, swelled in the recesses of his chest. Above him, the sky darkened as night started to fall. The sun set, the sky turning milky pink and hellfire orange. People in the park were starting to vanish, and when Judai was all alone, he heard grunting and crying in the distance. He summoned his silver scissors to hand, flicked them open, and grinning behind the surgical mask so wide that it nearly tore the skin of his scars open again, he said in a tone he knew so well:

"It's time."

"You bitch!"

SMACK!

"Ow! P-please! Stop this."

"Cheat on me, will you?"

SLAP!

"Ah! P-please! I wasn't cheating. H-he was asking for directions."

"Liar!"

SMACK!

Thirty-four year old Takana Mariko winced as her boyfriend's hard fist drilled into her skull once again. Her teeth rattled against the force; she whimpered.

For as long as she could remember, her relationship had been like this. Every time Enri saw her so much as look in the direction of another man, he would beat her senseless. She always begged him to stop, claimed it wasn't her fault, and it never was. But Enri wouldn't ever listen to reason. Sometimes, Takana begged God to destroy him, to send Enri to Hell. She even tried the Hell Girl website, but that was just an anime. It wasn't real. So she suffered through eternity with Enri beating her, knowing that she would never escape him.

Enri paused suddenly in mid-shout, exhaling with a dry puff of air; Tanaka opened her blackened eyes and looked up.

The young teenager with the red ski parka and white surgical mask stood close by, saying nothing and doing nothing. His eyes, glowing with an inhuman light, stared right through Enri. He danced soundlessly forward, and when he was mere inches from Enri's face, said, "Excuse me, sir, but may I ask you a question?"

"Beat it!" Enri bellowed.

He swung at the boy...and gasped.

He was gone.

The boy appeared behind him between one eyeblink and the next. "Please, sir," he said, his tone as alluring and venomous as a snake. "It won't take long at all."

Enri drew back, sweat running down his forehead."S-sure." He backed up a step, trying to get away from the boy's intimidating gaze.

The boy's eyes crinkled; he was smiling. "Oh, thank you, sir. It will only take a second." He reached his hand into his pocket, fishing around for something. Enri ignored the cold wave of wind that blew over him. The masked boy's strange eyes seemed to peer inside him, see everything he wanted to keep hidden.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

Enri blinked. It wasn't every day that a boy asked Enri if he thought he was pretty. He took a brief second to study the boy's face. He had sharp, prominent features. His eyes were shimmery and lovely, his cheekbones high and defined. It paled in comparison to his hair, although. His chocolate brown locks fell long in the front, short and spiked in the back, and shone in the moonlight. He would have looked much better, however, if he wasn't wearing that mask. Enri found himself wondering what caused this boy to cover himself. "Yes," he decided with a brief nod. "Yes, you're pretty."

His strange eyes crinkled again, but he didn't speak.

He slowly hooked his index and middle fingers on his left hand to the top of the mask.

Enri felt his heart quicken. Takana glanced over his shoulder and tried to see what was going on. Her muscles burned in agony, and she contemplated running while Enri was distracted. He wouldn't really beat her if there were someone watching, would he? Part of her doubted it. Her bruised legs shifted back. Enri didn't notice. The boy's glimmering eyes seemed to hold him steady. Suddenly, Enri wasn't so sure that he wanted to know what was underneath the boy's surgical mask. Part of him felt as if he should run. The other part felt as if he should sink to his knees and beg forgiveness. He didn't know why he felt this way. What was this boy, to make someone feel so afraid that they would do anything in the world to keep themselves alive?

For a moment, Enri was aware of the cold wind.

Then he heard a voice that rumbled through him, like a mighty blue ocean wave crashing over the sands of the whitest beaches. Male and female, animal and human, demon and angel, a composite of every single voice he'd ever heard since the moment of his birth.

The Devil's voice.

"How about now?"

The boy ripped the mask away; Enri screamed, despite himself. His face was ruined. Vicious tears started at the edges of his mouth, one side tearing up while the other went downward in a frown. They were hideous scars, hardened like the crust of bloody bread. The blaze of the boy's eyes seemed to illuminate the horror of the Boy's destroyed mouth.

The Slit-Mouth Boy...How could I not have known?

He turned to run—but his attempts were in vain. The Slit-Mouth Boy was already in front of him. He struck the abuser down with the heel of his palm; a forceful blow that sent Enri down gasping. In the Boy's hand were a giant pair of scissors, a pair of gardener's shears smeared with garnet blood. The Slit-Mouth Boy gave him a moment to stand, studying him like a cat studies its prey. Enri stood up, keeping his eyes on the evil Boy. The Kuchisake-Shonen opened his mouth—the cuts stretched to the point where Enri felt they would open, too—and laughed. Blood spilled from the insides of his wounds and coated his tongue in a thick sheet of hot metallic liquid. Enri bit his lip against the wave of bile, knowing that if he threw up, he'd give the Boy an edge.

"What's wrong?" the Boy advanced forward. His Devil's voice was raspy and crackled, like an elderly man instead of the teenager he pretended to be. Enri found himself, briefly, wondering just how old the Kuchisake-Shonen was.

Enri struggled to step back.

"You're not nearly as much fun as I thought you'd be." The Kuchisake-Shonen clacked his teeth together; they became coated in blood.

Despite being cornered by a vicious creature intent on taking his soul, Enri found himself bristling with anger. "And just what do you know about me?" The Kuchisake-Shonen's eyebrow rose slightly. "You don't know a damn thing about me!"

"Oh?" The Kuchisake-Shonen moved forward slowly, swinging his scissors gently at his side. "I know that your father use to beat your mother severely every night. I know that he use to beat you every single morning when you spoke back to him. I know that you met Miss Takana here"—He jerked his head toward the young woman, who trembled in her spot behind him (the Kuchisake-Shonen had somehow moved Enri to the point where he was no longer right in front of Takana, but she was in front of him)—"in college, and that you've been dating for three months. I know that you're controlling the relationship and that Miss Takana here would rather see you dead than continue dating you, but she's too afraid to fight back. I know that every night, she prays and prays for something to happen to you, for someone to hurt you so bad that you can never move again. So that you can never, ever, hurt her again."

He stopped, inches from Enri's face.

"Now, I ask you again. How about now? Am I pretty?"

Enri looked at the scissors, back at the Boy, then shook his head slowly, pleading, "No..."

The Boy's cuts tore back in a wolfish smile; he laughed. "Wrong answer."

He slashed, once, twice. Enri fell to the ground, his mouth torn apart in the same marks at the Boy, blood pouring down his neck. His skin, pale and lifeless, bulged with blue veins. The Boy spat on Enri's body and removed his surgical mask from his pocket. He settled it swiftly on his face without another word. Then he turned slowly to Takana, who shivered and cowered behind him. "You," he said, his voice back to normal. She looked, against her will. "Your revenge has been sought. He'll never strike you again."

Then he turned his back on her and vanished into the night.

The next morning, authorities found Enri's corpse in the park.

Takana babbled over the body like a madwoman, clenching clumps of hair in her hands so hard her scalp bled.

When the cops lifted her up off the filthy ground and placed her onto the stretcher beside Enri's body bag, she kept staring straight into space, frothy spit and foam forming around her lips, tear streaming from wide eyes, muttering a single phrase over and over again.

Slit-Mouth Boy. Slit-Mouth Boy. Slit-Mouth Boy...

Me: So Judai has met Johan and has killed another abuser.

Lucy: So, in a way, he's one of the good guys. He hates people who are abusive, mostly due to the fact that he was killed by Setsuko, and he'll do anything to see them dead.

Me: But what of Johan's fate? Shall he ever find out that his dear new friend is a killer?

Lucy: Please review!