Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Hidden in my Blood ❯ Chapter 1

Chapter One

Kisu…

 

An annoying bleep continued to drive itself deeper and deeper into my subconscious, something that was bothersome on my good days and damn near painful on my worse ones. I assure you, an herb/youki-induced headache does not constitute a good mood. Actually, it makes me quite irritable, unnecessarily violent some say, and most definitely unhelpfully anti-social. Even more so when I know absolutely zero people in this city, don't know my way around, have no interest in learning my way, and don't want to be here. Yet, here I am at another new school, scouting out new a turf and solidifying a new badass reputation despite my…small…size.

I rolled over, pulling the blankets closer and burying my head under a mound of pillows, trying to block out the sound.

Bleh. Stabbity high-pitched noises. They were still poking the backs of my eyeballs with brightly colored lightning rods. Joy.

I rolled over again, sat up, and glared at the clock like that might actually shut it off, my brain sloshing around my skull like the drug-addled mess it was. I sat in my nest of scarlet pillows and fluffy black blankets, and continued to direct my best death glare at the clock, eye twitching every time my head throbbed in time with its bleeps. Usually my death glare is quite a formidable opponent all on its own, even without my violence to back it up, but its intensity probably wasn't helped by my sleep-bleared eyes. The fact that I was buried up to my neck in blankets and my three-inch long mouse-brown hair sticking up in sleep-tousled clumps was probably less than helpful as well. Yet I sat there fully expecting it to cause the clock to implode upon itself, thereby thankfully shutting it up. Right. That isn't even one of my abilities when my body is entirely functional, not to my knowledge.

This is why it's not a good thing to take Motrin, sleep pills, and… whatever that other one is, all at the same time. Remind me to remember that next time, not that I shouldn't already know it, considering how many times I've done this to myself.

A thought finally forced itself to the surface of my mind, where I might actually sense it. It's hard to tell what's a thought and what's part of the headache when I'm in this state sometimes. Why don't you just go turn it off? Duh, brilliant idea, though I could probably have gone about doing it in a more effective way…

My glare became a malicious grin as I pulled my legs under me, hiding my motions from the clock like it might actually know what was happening. The oblivious gizmo merely continued it's cheerful tirade on my ears.

Muscles tensed as I attempted to calculate the distance between the clock and myself, not having much luck with my minimally functioning brain, and then lunged. I pushed off the bed, growling and snarling, as my feet tangled in the mess of blankets I still hadn't taken the moment needed to free myself from. My chin collided soundly with the ground as I fell face first, carried by the momentum meant to launch me half way across the room. I turned onto my back, kicking and snarling, and pried my feet out of the twisted heap before crawling towards the bookcase, stalking the clock.

Bleep bleep bleep! The stupid thing just kept on going. It was like the energizer bunny.

I stopped a few feet from the bookcase, crouched again, and launched myself at it, all just a few seconds after getting trapped in my blankets. The launching didn't turn out to not be a very good idea either. Go figure.

I slammed into the bookcase, and it began rocking back and forth. My mind barely registered it as the case started to fall, but tried to share the information with my body anyway, thinking it might be important. I was a little bit slower on the uptake, but managed to dart to the side just in time to avoid being squashed flat. The case landed with a crash and books exploded everywhere.

And there it was, right by my foot. It was the stupid little thing that had awoken me from my lovely sleep. The annoyingly loud box were flashing 6:17 am, a time that is way to early for any normal creature to be awake and functioning, though my behavior since I roused myself may not be considered either of those things.

I picked it up, smiled evilly at the poor, melded plastic contraption, and then pressed a button on the top, my higher brain functions finally kicking in. Or so I thought.

The bleeps stopped. I sighed and finally let my shoulders relax for the first time since the damn thing had started going off.

Bleep!

It was starting again! I stared at the thing in my hands, dumbfounded, and then viciously started stabbing at all the buttons I could find on it.

And it stopped!

And then started again…

Bleep bleep!

The thing was mocking me! My concentration narrowed to a pinpoint in space, the center of which was my soon-to-be-doomed-if-it-didn't-shut-up clock, and my focus was entirely on doing anything to stop the noise, regardless of any further possible damage to myself, the clock, or my remaining furniture and belongings.

I stabbed at the buttons harder.

The clock stopped for a second, hesitated, and then let out a plaintive Bleep!

I threw my arms up with an exasperated snarl, clock still in hand, and then turned to the wall and started smashing the clock against it.

“Shut!” Smash.

Bleep!

“UP!” Smash.

Bleep!

“YOU STUPID!” Smash again.

Bleep!

“CLOCK!” Smash. Crunch. Silence. The clocks casing snapped. I held one broken half in my hand, while the other dangled on a combination of broken wires and microchips. A satisfied grin began to spread across my face, and I again started to relax. It lasted for a grand total of thirty seconds.

Bleep…bleep…bleep…

Sure, it wasn't as loud or obnoxious as before, BUT THE DAMN THING WAS STILL MAKING NOISE!!!

My grin vanished and I dropped the thing to the floor, beginning to stomp on it furiously. Stomp stomp stomp stomp!

Bleeeppp……

“ARGH!”

I grabbed a pair of scissors, dropped to the ground next to the clock, and made a motion to start stabbing the thing. Then I thought better of it, turned, grabbed the electrical cord that was feeding power to it, and moved the scissors into position to cut it. But something in my brain clicked, telling me that this action would bring unnecessary pain. Um…metal plus electricity or touching/cutting with metal equals….

My brain pooped out on me again there, but I tossed the scissors down and started following the length of cord, not quite sure why I was doing it.

Bleeeppp…… I moved away from the annoying sound. If I could just make it stop I would be able to think so much easier….

I followed the cord, and then, found it plugged into a wall socket?

I know, obvious conclusion, but give me a break. I'm drugged up on more medications than anyone has a right to be and the bleeping is much more annoying than it probably sounds. And much more painful too. I rubbed my temples, trying to remember what made finding the plug such a wonderful thing, knowing perfectly well that I was being extremely pathetic.

I touched it and a little shock ran up my arm. My eyes flashed.

“Take that you stupid plug!” I yanked on it and it popped out of the wall in another burst of misdirected anger. It popped out easily and I stared at the plug and cord that I was now holding in my hands, vaguely satisfied, before noticing something else.

Silence.

Blessed silence.

I dropped the cord and stood, still tense, refusing to let the crafty clock trick me into relaxing too soon just so it could start its painful poking again.

I inched closer to the mess of plastic that was left of the clock, and poked it with my toe. It didn't move, which is to be expected, I realized as my brain began to warm up to a more normal activity level. But more importantly, it remained silent.

A small smile started at my lips, then, as the silence lengthened, to spread until it became a full grin. Now that the incessant noise had stopped I was finally beginning to wake up. The effects of the sleep pills were starting to ease off, and my brain starting to return to normal. And that's why I was able to start berating myself for being such a dork for the past half-hour or so. I was fairly sure it was around 6:30 by now.

Thinking also made me wonder why exactly I was up at 6:00, considering that classes didn't start until 9:00 if I remembered correctly. And I'd woken up like this enough times that I was no longer surprised by my state of intoxication, just vaguely curious as to what had caused me to induce it this time.

I thought back, trying to remember what time I had woken up the previous night. A time flashed in my head. 12:30. Why? Nightmares… I closed my eyes, slightly paler than I had been a moment before. Most people wouldn't have been able to tell though, because I usually keep it rather pale. I opened my eyes just as quickly, not wanting to witness the flashes of memory that might occur just by summoning the topic to mind. I hadn't had that dream in a long, long, time, but immediately decided that the immense hunger that would follow shortly due to the ingestion of so many anti-toxins, and possibly toxins, was a fair price to pay, along with the day-long grouchy grogginess, and a killer headache. Almost anything was worth preventing an encore appearance of this particular memory, especially on the same night as the first showing.

My stomach gave a plaintive growl, and I nearly swooned as the rush of hunger washed over me, demanding that it be fed. All other thoughts were pushed from my mind and my vision flashed red with bloodlust, before I could get the urge under control again. Even though I'm only partly demon I still have to work hard to suppress the odd animalistic urge or two now and then, so I pushed the desire to kill, and rip out something's throat to free all that lovely blood, as they died as deep down as I could. I started for the refrigerator at a rushed walk, avoiding the mess of my room with ease. I had to skirt the fallen bookcase and its wounded books, but that was okay.

I yanked the fridge door open, not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours I started to recall, and reached my hand in to grab a bottle, head tilted back and eyes closed, fighting to keep this darker part of myself carefully contained. My hunger is always worse after taking those stupid pills, and the only thing that slackens the need is blood. If I don't feed it, it just gets worse until I lose control. That's something I have never done and never plan to. The resulting bloodshed would not be good. I don't even want to know what the possible punishments from the Reikai government might be.

My hand swept around in the fridge wildly, and connected with…nothing. My brow wrinkled in concentration as I reached my hand into the back of the small space and felt around the corners. Still nothing. I opened my eyes and dropped down onto my knees so that I was at eye level with the small compartment. I found myself staring into …emptiness.

I growled, standing and punching the wall in one fluid motion, before I again tried to calm myself. White plaster dust trickled from the edge of the hole, a flash of light in a sea black paint. I took a deep breath and pushed it out, forcing myself to calm down, relax, and regain control of my emotions. I don't let my emotions run rampart. They are my greatest weakness, and weaknesses are not something you parade about, especially your way of life depends on staying beneath people's level of notice. A weakness is something you try to kill, or, if you cannot, hide so well that no one can see it. This is a lesson I have been taught endlessly since birth.

I had not been doing well at that this morning. I had to regain control, before I lost it completely. I closed my eyes, and focused all my energy inward.

But at least I knew why I was up this early now. My hunger intensified briefly, almost to the point where I thought it would escape me, and then slackened. It did that sometimes, teasing me when it realized that it wouldn't be finding a meal any time soon, or not one that I was prepared to let it eat.

I opened my eyes slowly, and when I was sure that I was the one commanding myself I stood and began searching for my school uniform. I spotted a wristwatch half underneath a book and grabbed it, snapping it onto my wrist. It had a wide leather band, and a large, silver face. The hands read 6:40. Two hours and twenty minutes until I had to be at school.

I continued the search for my uniform. I found it conveniently piled on top of the fridge, where I should have been able to find it immediately. Grrr… It was made up of the standard black uniform shoes, white knee-highs, a white button-up shirt, and a blue skirt, tie, and blazer. I held the outfit up, assessing how much I was going to dislike it. I've worn my fair share of these types of outfits, still have them, and have never liked a single one of them.

Two hours, twenty minutes? That should be plenty of time. I have a contact and supplier to search out. I grabbed the outfit and headed into the dreaded whiteness of the bathroom to shower and change.