So, this is my first attempt in Blue Exorcist fanfiction. Actually I don't know if my idea is very original, but at least I'll try to make it interesting. For now I'm not sure about pairings (there is still possibility that I somehow manage to write this fanfic without romance at all)

Disclaimer: I don't own Blue Exorcist

Chapter 1

Snowflakes danced slowly in the fresh winter air. A little brown-haired and bespectacled boy with some moles stood near the ruined snowman staring blankly into the space. The blood was dripping from his nose staining the pure whiteness of the snow under his foot. Another trace of blood could be seen near the corner of the boy's mouth. It seemed that some time ago the boy was crying: his eyelids were still swollen and one could simply notice the traces of dried tears on his cheeks.

Some other children, who stayed at some distance, looked at the bespectacled boy with strange mixture of shock and utter horror. Every one of them was beaten quite severely as they were fighting withbrown-haired child not long ago. They had never expected that everything would end like that. The bespectacled boy was known as terrible scaredy-cat and crybaby. It was so easy to bully him. Well, it was easy until that day. Nobody could even imagine that wimp to actually snap and fight back with such hostility. He even hurt his own fists.

The children stood silently for some time as if they were kind of afraid to speak. At last, one of them touched a long bleeding scratch on his cheek and whispered hard audibly:


That simple word suddenly became sort of a trigger and everybody yelled as well:

"Monster! Demon!"

The bespectacled boy, as if starting from a trance at the sounds of those hateful yells, sobbed and tried to run away as far as he could from those glares of hatred and horror. He tripped over something, fell on the snow, stood up and ran again. The boy tasted the unpleasant salty mixture of tears and blood on his tongue. It was a really horrible sensation which reminded him of his own loneliness…

Yukio gasped and opened his eyes staring in the darkness. He sat up on his bed and covered his face with his hands. He wasn't a child anymore yet his childhood memories continued to haunt him. And that dream… Yukio especially hated it, that nightmare, that reminder of his own fears, which always remained as salty aftertaste of lonely tears.

The teen reached for his glasses, put them on and looked at the clock. 3 a. m. Great. It still was plenty time until morning yet Yukio doubted that he would manage to sleep more. After all, he was never able to do it before. So he inattentively stared into the darkness and plunged in deep thought about himself and his life until now.

Okumura Yukio had lived for only fifteen years, but his life wasn't too happy. No, of course, he had some moments of joy yet there were also many miserable minutes. After all, Yukio was only an orphan living in the monastery. He had never known his real family. The teen really loved and respected his adoptive father Fujimoto Shirou, but… Sometimes he wondered what happened with his real parents. Were they dead? Or, maybe, they simply abandoned him for some unknown reasons? When Yukio was little, he actually imagined that his parents would take him back. Unfortunately, that dream remained only dream. Sometimes the boy really thought about asking Shirou about his real family, but he never asked that question. In reality, Yukio was afraid to hear that his parents were bad people or that they didn't need somebody like him.

Another his childhood dream was to have a sibling. It didn't matter to Yukio if it was a boy or a girl, somebody younger or older than him. It could be even somebody not blood-related to him, after all Shirou was dear to his heart. Alas, Yukio was only child in the monastery…

As his dream about sibling seemed unreal, the boy at least tried to make some friends of his age. But all his attempts failed miserably. Yukio always was an ideal target for bulling as he was meek and incredibly shy, as well as wimpy and slightly cowardly child. His glasses and moles neither made his situation better. And, of course, there was his old habit to keep all his problems to himself. No one knew, that Yukio was bullied or suffered from loneliness. He never let anyone know, always putting on a fake smile, pretending that everything was all right, that all his injuries were from small accidents.

Unfortunately, Yukio never considered any of those his main problem. No, there was something more, something, that preventing him from making a friend more than anything else, something, that terrified even himself. Yukio usually endured any humiliation from other children yet sometimes he really lost his temper. His uncontrollable rage was really terrifying as he actually could hardly stop. What was the worst, even if Yukio hated to admit that, deep inside he actually enjoyed the results of his violence, all that fear and suffering he caused. The teen still remembered one accident more than ten years ago when he bit one of neighbour boys hard enough to draw some blood. He felt himself something superior to mere human and that was really disgusting. Maybe, Yukio couldn't find a friend because he simply distanced himself from everybody…


No matter, how hard that night was it had to eventually end. The morning came with its usual sounds and routine and Yukio came to the kitchen with his usual calm smile. The kitchen was nearly empty: it seemed that all the priests had already left and only Shirou sat there reading the newspaper.

"Oh, good morning, Yukio", the man greeted his adoptive son with kind smile.

"Good morning, father," replied the teen looking for something to eat.

"Aren't you nervous?" asked suddenly Shirou. Yukio nearly dropped his sandwich. He didn't want to worry his adoptive father, so tried to conceal his own uneasiness. It couldn't possibly failed. Or not? Was his mental condition so obvious?

"For what reason?" the teen forced a smile. He was never sure he could deceive the priest. Somebody thought of Father Fujimoto as of easy-going, slightly stupid person who liked goofing around, yet Yukio knew that the man was extraordinary keen.

"Aren't you going to leave the monastery next week?" smiled Shirou. Yukio relaxed. It seemed that his adoptive father somehow misunderstood his uneasiness.

"Yeah", nodded the teen. "After all I've spent here all my life".

"You've grown up", said the man proudly. "And I'm glad your hard efforts helped you to get a scholarship in prestigious school. I'm sure you'll become a great doctor one day".

Really, one of Yukio's dreams was to become a doctor. Instead of hurting people, he wanted to help them. The teen knew that he needed a good education, so he studied hard, learning as much as he could. Well, as he had no friends he had plenty of time anyway.

Yukio suddenly noticed an awkward silence. Maybe he had to say something, but for some reason couldn't say a word. Shirou stayed silent as well. He seemed lost in thought. His face darkened for a moment and then he said:

"Yukio…" suddenly the man stopped as if he seriously doubted that he had right to continue.

"What?" asked the teen.

Shirou forced a weak smile and said something completely different from what he intended:

"Good luck".

They both simply didn't know that cruel fate had already planned the future, grinning like a mad…