Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Wings of a Butterfly ❯ Black Sheep ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I do NOT (not, not, not) own any characters in the anime series Yu Yu Hakusho. They belong to their creator, Togashi Yoshihiro-sama. I wish (wish, wish, wish) that I OWNED Kurama. ^^;

 

“Alright Kazuma, I wanna know what's a girl doing in your bed and I wanna know now!”

“Shizuru! Shh! She's sleeping. Why don't we take this downstairs, eh, sis?”

 

The faint yet agreeing sound of an irritated groan and two pairs of receding steps were recognized by Cho's sharp and currently sensitive sense of hearing. The small creak of a doorknob was both slight and graciously appreciated by the drowsy sleeper.

 

Two extra things, however, were not.

 

The first was a loud bang that could be no other than the door being slammed open. Following in rapid succession was an even louder obnoxious voice that commanded:

 

“Okay, where's the idiot's new girlfriend?”

 

“Urameshi!”

 

Cho identified the first voice to be the one who first spoke...Kazuma. She also identified him as the vague and blurred voice echoing in her mind currently from the time she was last conscious.

 

“Can't you keep it quiet; can't you see she's sleeping?” Kazuma demanded in hushed tones.

“Yeah, Yusuke, I think you should be quiet. I'm surprised this one isn't already awake.” Shizuru agreed.

“Oops, sorry.”

 

After that, the door shut silently and the three disappeared. Cho attempted to go back to sleep, but sleep evaded her like a memory from her childhood days.

 

If you can even call it that. she thought bitterly before opening her eyes.

 

She was upon a large and soft bed. Warms blankets draped her small, nimble frame and a big pillow welcomed her into its cushiony clutches. She couldn't suppress the sigh that escaped her lips. She couldn't deny this feeling of security and comfort or relish it while it was in her very reach—or she was.

 

Months ago, she'd had a home, a warm bed, a family. But now that was all gone and it was all of her fault.

 

No, she chided, It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong. It's their fault. It's all of their fault. They were the ones who betrayed you; they were the ones who hurt you. They were the ones who threw you away like they didn't care!

 

Despite the sudden emptiness she felt, Cho couldn't stop the tears from flowing out of her eyes. Just like she couldn't do anything.

 

She pressed her palm against her head, finding bandages carefully wrapped around her wrist. As a matter of fact, both wrists had been bound securely. Even so, that didn't hide the evident fact of the things she did to her body. Scars of all depths and incisions were scattered on the underside of her arms all the away up to the opposite joint of her elbows. Seeing them put her at unease.

 

Cho felt restless and sat up, the blankets falling off of her. She discovered herself in a large black t-shirt at least three times her size. In fact, it was so large on her it actually stopped a few inches above her knees. Once more, she felt self-conscious about her height.

 

Within her family of five brothers and two sisters, Cho was the youngest and smallest of her siblings. Her mother had been a 5'11 model and her father was a 6'5 pro wrestler. Each of her brothers participated in a sport that benefited their tall heights—namely basketball—and both of her sisters had attended a major modeling school in America somewhere. Cho was 5'3.

 

Born with silky black hair and blue-gray eyes, she didn't even appear related to any member from her family. According to her father, no one even had black hair since the family originated from Ireland in the 1800's during the colonization of the Americas—and even then it was a rare genetic trade.

 

A unique color even amongst the most unique, Cho's eyes also betrayed her in comparison to her red-and-blonde-haired, green-eyed family. For years she was always known as the “adopted daughter” of the McKnight family.

 

Cho earned the reputation for being the one and only “odd-girl-out”—the Black Sheep, her mother cruelly called her.

 

I guess they made sure that no black wool would ever stain the white and that the “odd girl” stayed out. Her thoughts were as bitter and distasteful as salt water straight from the ocean, polluted and poisoned by the cruelty and carelessness of humanity.

 

Cho rose from the bed, intent on thanking “Kazuma” for saving her. She ignored the slight headache and slipped on a pair of the slippers at the foot of the bed. From there she continued down the room and followed the voices from the end of the hall down the stairwell.

 

A silence overtook the entire house the second her foot hit the base of the stairs. She looked up to find a young woman with sand-brown hair and brown eyes at the table with two teenaged boys. One had strangely shaped orange hair and beady black eyes while the other kept his black hair pasted with excessive amounts of gel and warm brown eyes.

 

Her fingers tightened on the hand railing she braced herself on, unsure if coming was such a good idea. The insecurity she developed over the past months deprived her of the feeling of comfort and warmth splurging in the atmosphere. Could she trust them, was her main concern and what made her so insecure.

 

The young woman, assumedly Shizuru, noticed this, “Hey sweetie, are you okay?”

Cho snapped from her dazed spell and stared at her. “Oh, yes, I'm fine. Thank you.”

“Here, come sit down. I'll make you some tea and soup. You're still pale from that fever you had, I see.”

 

Cho unconsciously touched her cheek, feeling the slightly feverish flesh beneath her cold fingertips. I was just born this way, she wanted to say. She hesitated as she made her way across the room towards the kitchen table. Shizuru reassured her with a small smile, which made it easier to accept the invitation.

 

Almost the moment she was seated, a question was shot at her.

“Are you okay?” Kuwabara asked her.

She looked at him and blinked, somewhat surprised at his concern. “Umm...yes.” she said, carefully, “I guess I'm alright.”

“You're sure? When I found you, you couldn't see straight. I was really worried back there.”

Cho looked at him, blinked, and then placed her focus back on what was the table. “I'm fine. Thank you for saving me.”

 

Yusuke ground his teeth together before asking, “So, what were doing in an alley in the rain? Were you on drugs or something?”

“Urameshi!” Kuwabara shouted.

“Hey, don't get me wrong. But you must be under some kind of influence to stay out in the rain that long.”

“Damn it, Urameshi, at least be a bit more sympathetic.”

Yusuke snorted, “Feh.”

 

“Does...” Cho started, “Does wanting to die categorize itself as being `under the influence'?”

 

A dead silence. If she could feel any emotion aside from emptiness, she probably would have smiled. But to smile at such a moment would speed the time spent here to nothingness.

 

Shizuru sighed and walked from the stove with a mug in hand. She placed the steaming mug of tea before Cho and then sat down.

 

“Listen kiddo, I don't know what you've been through or who hurt you, but I don't think that's a reason for wanting death.” she advised.

Cho had raised the mug to her lips, but placed it down at Shizuru's words. “You're right; you don't know what I've been through. You don't know who's hurt me. But I assure you, if it'd had been anyone else, they would've committed suicide or yielded to the tortures I have faced.”

 

Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Shizuru all exchanged glances. They ranged from looks of intrigue to those of fear. No doubt, they all felt uncomfortable. That, however, didn't stop Yusuke from sufficing his curiosity.

 

“Exactly what have you been through?” he asked.

 

This time, Cho did smile. It was cold, cruel, empty, and surprisingly innocent. Her eyes seemingly lost its tranquil blue hue and darkened into a soulless, unfathomable gray unlike any other. Her eyes—filled with knowledge, pain, experience, suffering, and so much more. The way she cast an inexplicable fear into their hearts would be forever lost to the very notion of time itself.

 

“I've sworn never to relive my past experiences with another human. It's best that such stays that way.”

 

Her tone was blasé yet undeniably final. Despite the eyes she felt on her skin, staring in utter disbelief, she indifferently picked up the mug before her and finally took a sip of the herbal tea.