"H-hey, Okumura... S-sorry about yesterday, I was a bit tense that day, Y'know, and-" Bon tried to explain, but I cut him off with a laugh. I waved my hand dismissively.

"No big deal! Besides," I said, a grin plastered across my face. "Who'd listen to a crazy psycho demon bitch anyways?" Suguro laughed-albeit a bit uneasily- and punched my shoulder.

"No harm done?"

"No harm done."

"Dammit, I should've tried harder." I snickered and slapped him upside the head. He punched me back before rubbing his skull. There was a moment of silence between us as we walked, but eventually he broke it.

"Y-you know what she said about us not... you know... trusting you?" He started cautiously. I stiffened.

"Yeah?" Another silence.

"Well, it's not true. We do trust you. You're our friend." I was silent for a moment. I gulped, trying to relieve my own distrust that was causing my feelings to suffocate me. I looked up, a fake smirk on my face.

"Ha! Friends? Us two? You're delirious!" I joked. Bon growled and tried to put me in a headlock, but I ran ahead of him and unlocked the next broom closet I saw. I dashed in and shut it behind me, holding it closed as Suguro pounded against it, shouting insults at me. I took the moment to calm myself, to remind myself that I could do what I needed to do once class started, and I took a deep breath, preparing to run.

I let go of the door and ran for my life, locating the Cram School among the countless, almost identical others and darting inside before Bon could catch me. I hid under my desk and panted, trying to catch my breath as I heard the door open again.

"Where is that stupid-ass, moronic dumb Satanist!? Tell me, I'm gonna rip his throat out!"

I knew it was a joke, but it still hurt. It hurt even more now that I knew they didn't trust me, and that part of Ryuji's insult was true. Somewhere, deep inside, he did think I was a Satan worshiping demon.

"I-foouuund-youuuuu..." The deadly sounding voice echoed above me. I yelped as he grabbed me by the back of my collar and pulled me out, slamming me to the ground and causing a wrestling match to start up in the middle of the classroom. I finally struggled free of Bon's choke hold and scrambled away.

I stuck my tongue out at him and stood up. He and Shiemi, the only other people in the room looked at me curiously as I made my way to the door.

"I'll be back in a minute. I won't be late, promise." I gave them a thumbs up and left the room, hurrying down the hallway towards the bathroom. My breaths quickened as I stepped inside and locked the door behind me. I drew the pencil sharpener out of my pocket and took a breath. Then, without another moments hesitation, I dropped the sharpener on the floor and stepped on it, shattering the plastic, but leaving the blades intact. I picked them up, heart pounding, and swept the crushed plastic into my hand, dumping them into the trash bin as I made my way over to the sink. I leaned against the porcelain, tucking the smaller of the two metal blades into my pocket, and rolling my left sleeve up, exposing my canvas. Red, puffy lines showed where I'd sliced into my skin last night, and the blood had hardened over the wounds, healing like a normal person's injuries would.

I let go of the breath I'd been holding, and dragged the metal across the inside of my forearm. I hissed, relishing in the pain. I pressed it into my arm again, and, before I knew what was happening, I had already made three more cuts. Blood dotted the sink, bright red and thick against the pure white of the bowl. I shoved the dirtied blade into my pocket, along with the other one, and grabbed a fistful of tissues. I held them to the cuts, willing them to stop bleeding.

"Okumura!"

I jumped, frightened, but then remembered that I'd locked the door. I replied after a moment.

"Y-yeah?"

"What the hell are you doing in there, writing a novel? Class is starting." It was Bon. I responded, saying that I'd be out in a second, and rolled my sleeve down again. For once I was thankful that I had to wear a dark jacket, even in this heat. After I was sure the blood wasn't going to be visible through the black fabric, I stepped out of the bathroom and headed down the hall. I entered my classroom quietly and took my seat. Yukio glared at me for a moment before continuing with whatever he was saying previously.

Shiemi smiled at me in greeting before returning to her note taking. I realized that I should be doing the same and took out my note pad and pen. I absentmindedly took notes as Yukio explained about some herb called marigold, and how it was used to exorcise small, low class infection demons.

I zoned out after while, my pen stopped moving and I stared blankly into space. Why did everyone love Yukio? He was Satan's kid too! The only difference was the fact that I had the flames and the demonic features. I was a less adept exorcist than he was, I was nicer, I was more social! How could they not trust me?!

Because you act more like a demon. Because they've seen you go berserk. That's why. They have a reason to be afraid. They have a reason to not trust you. They-

"Okumura-kun! Are you paying attention?!" I heard Yukio's voice above me, and I looked up at him. Anger flared in my chest. Why couldn't I be him?!

" 'Okumura-kun, are you paying attention?!' Does it look like I'm paying attention, dumbass?!" I mocked him angrily.

There was an awkward silence, and I could feel everyone's gaze burning into my back, but I held my gaze with my more adept, stronger, more likable brother. Yukio stared at me, eyes wide with shock, but he soon snapped out of it. He frowned and pointed to the door.

"If you're too tired to attend class today, please excuse yourself." He said in that stupid, know-it-all teacher voice.

"I'd be more than obliged, Sensei." I stood up, slamming my hands on the desk top and grabbing my sword as I walked away, my narrowed eyes not leaving Yukio until I got past him.

I slammed the door behind me and stalked down the hall tail twitching and swishing in frustration as I walked. I pulled out my key and used it to open a door to my dorm room. Once inside, I threw my sword onto my bed, took off my jacket and shirt, and carried the clothing to the washroom.

I stuck the bloodied clothes in the washing machine and went back to my room to change. I stripped off my dress pants and uniform shoes and pulled out my jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie. I slipped on a t-shirt before putting the other clothes on. I tied the laces on my worn sneakers and left the dorm room. Like hell I was going to stay there and wait for that damn Yukio to come back and lecture me.

I walked out of the dormitory and hurried down the street. I wanted to go somewhere where no one would look to find me. Somewhere like... like downtown! No one would think to find me there. I mainly stayed in True Cross town these days.

But today, I wanted a break from being an Exorcist. I just wanted to be a normal teenager again. Normal Rin Okumura, with his demon-like personality, is anger management issues, his constant fights and-

Fights.

That's what I needed. I needed to get into an old school brawl. Those back alley fistfight that was so commonly linked to Rin Okumura. No swords, so flames, no guns, just hand to hand combat.

But I couldn't just go looking for trouble. No. But that wouldn't be a problem, seeing as somehow, someway, trouble always seemed to find me.

I quickened my pace and glanced at the sky. Seeing as it was still summer-even if it was late in the season-the sun was still high in the sky, burning down on me as I finally left the school campus. Now, I was walking down one of the many main streets of True Cross town.

I needed to get out. I needed to be by myself in the real world now. The world where normal people lived blissfully normal lives and went on with their days without worrying about demons, or exorcists or any of that crap. The worst thing a kid my age would be worrying about would be having his parents finding him drunk somewhere or something.

Getting drunk sounded pretty good right now.

Not for fun, but just to escape. To pass out somewhere, even if it was against some wall of a store building. I'd done it a couple times before. And each time, I'd get back around three or four in the morning, still tipsy, and have a horrible hangover the next morning that I would barely be able to pass of as being sick.

But still.

I'd forget.

And I needed it now more than I needed it when I was thirteen or fourteen. I had worse problems now.

I shook my head. I couldn't get into that. Besides, where could I get it now? In my old town, I'd either steal a bit from the monastery, or I'd buy it off a pub owner who was short of money. Tch. Even as a little kid, I had fucking suppliers.

I heard the bang of a cross gate closing and I looked up. A truck cruised on past down the road, and the guards were about to go back to their posts when they spotted me. They waved. I faked a smile and waved back.

"Going somewhere kid?" The older man asked. I nodded.

"Yeah. I just need to get outta here for a while." I answered. He grinned and patted me on the back as I left True Cross.

I sighed, thankful to be free. I dug my hands further into my sweater pockets and continued my walk. I could hear the bustling city, just a short ways off, and sped up. I couldn't wait. Hopefully, no one I knew would run into me while I was here.

I wandered through the winding streets for a while, not paying attention. I just... drifted. That was enough though. It made me feel normal to just be my old self. Quiet, but seething inside. And if someone pushed the limit, I'd snap. I had a feeling that I was already reverting back to that place. I didn't regret it, not fully at least. Fighting helped, or, at least being able to punch something. It didn't have to be a person, it could be a wall, a building, etc. But the point was, I was angry.

"Ow! Watch it, asshole!"

I had accidentaly bumped into someone, a boy maybe one year older than I. He shoved me hard on the shoulder and I stumbled to the side. I looked up, glaring hard at the athletic teen. He laughed.

"Don't glare at me, kid, you don't know what you're getting into."

I stood up straighter and took my hands out of my pockets. I sighed. I was really no different than how I used to be, always itching for a fight. Hell, my mind must've subconciously steered me towards this guy just so I could piss him off somehow. But whatever. I'd take the opprotunity. I clenched my fist angrily.

"Shut up, punk."