One of Those Days

Disclaimer: I am, therefore, but a fan… sadly

(A/N: The long-awaited (I only dare to hope) sequel to One of Those Nights. I wonder if the readers will start to see the approaching trend or the theme that the following fanfics will take on, if not, it’s ok. These fanfics are fine to read as standalone – but if you really want to get into the gist of it, read the prequel Just Another Nightmare and the original fic which sprouted the plot bunnies, One of Those Nights.

Beta: Blossomwitch - what a lifesaver she is!

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: One of Those Days

Kurama wondered when he first decided that living was a chore. Had he always thought that way, or was it a new development in his life? Perhaps he was merely aging, exhausted of the effort of surviving. Unlike humans, Kurama knew that he would never get to experience the Golden Years, rocking idly and smiling toothlessly at passing strangers, as the warm wind wafted past his frail and wrinkly shell of a body.

But unlike the maudlin, aged ningens, who got to scream uselessly at their children for wasting their youth or shower their grandchildren with unnecessary gifts or flap their thinning lips incessantly about ‘the good ol’ days’, Kurama knew that he didn’t have the privilege or the luxury of being able to waste gracefully, safe and snug under a thermal blanket with the people he loved.

Kurama was old.

And yet, no one saw the respectable wisdom imbedded in his forest green irises. No one noticed the carefully controlled emotions he usually denied himself. His movements grew sluggish, as the pulse of the earth started to wind down. However, instead of turning gray, his hair soaked up a rich and vibrant crimson color reminiscent of the powerful pull of blood. Instead of sagging, his skin tightened and the luminosity, which expensive beauty creams promised vain women, shone through his disgusting young and smooth complexion.

It was ironic that in Kurama lay the Fountain of Youth, sought by the greedy and unsatisfied; yet he wanted nothing than for that youthful complexion to sag and grow drab and mottled with age spots. He wasn’t a vain person, although he did once pride himself for his looks--but after years of trying to live and running away his looks signified that the race was not yet over. His looks screamed that as everyone turned into ashes and bones in the human world, he’d still remain, in some shape or form, unmarked by time, as if nothing had happened to him.

Kurama wanted proof that something did indeed happen to him.

Throughout those exhausting years, his looks, personalities and life changed so much, it nearly drove him mad.

But Kurama was strong, and he remained strong.

In his youth, he took pleasure in games, and there was no bigger game than the game of life –

- so why not play with three lives?

Youko, Shuiichi, and Kurama battled each other for dominance, not one content to stay in his own place and role. Soon, years of his conflicting identities and priorities took a toll on him. In trying to keep his true self hidden from pursuers with malicious intents, he had unwittingly thrown away the keep that harbored his true soul.

After all, ruses were not forever.

Youko…

Shuiichi…

Kurama…

Whoever he was, he was lost.

He no longer faced mirrors because he was afraid of his reflection. His nightmares haunted him even in daylight.

“Shuiichi, would you kindly please read to the class. We’re on the 42nd page now,” a voice called out.

He sighed and shook himself free of thoughts. “Representing ‘the totality of what can be known’ isn’t the same as simply being more intelligent than the average male…” Kurama began reading.

Just what exactly did he know? What knowledge had he gained to extricate himself out of his convoluted worries?

“…. Her rhythms are those of the earth and moon. Within her grows the seed of life…”

Kurama knew what he had to do, but…

Did he dare do it?

He could feel Kaitou studying him.

“…her mysteries come to no more than figurative expression of biological puzzles that baffled early peoples; or…”

As a thief, Kurama had stood before many a court. Strangely, he realized that he had never stayed long enough to hear the verdict. It was as if no one could pass judgment on him. He was untouchable. Had he done that – stayed to hear what conclusion should befall him – would he have more insight on what was it that he had to carry out? What was it that he had to do?

Baffled…

For the first time in his life, Kurama was baffled.

Upon finishing the passage, the teacher thanked him and asked him to sit down. He ignored Kaitou’s inquisitive stare and looked out the window to face the ashy, blue-gray sky echoing his craven thoughts.

How long, he wondered, did he still have to run the race?

(A/N: the passages that Kurama read are from an actual book called Introduction to Myth, I forgot what version or volume; unfortunately, I can’t check the book to make sure because we turned it in already. It was the chapter about the role of women in mythology.

I just can’t imagine Kurama growing old, no matter how old he is. He’s someone who can trick fate and time to pass over him, but that’s not always a good thing.

Thanks for everyone who's been reading since One of Those Nights.