Monday, November 22, 2004

  I thought to begin adding my stories (mainly one-shot. If you want to read my other longer stories, let me know!)

This is called the Breaking Point. Enjoy.

[i]Tic. Toc. Tic Toc. Scritch, scritch.[/I]
A blood red rose petal slowly fluttered to the carpet, and lay still as a dead man. The room remained deadly silent as another petal joined its fellow. Then, a heartfelt sigh, and the rose plummeted to the floor. The
flower shriveled up, now a light pink, and died, all within the span of a minute. A young man with vibrant red locks sat slumped against his desk chair. His right hand, the one he had dropped the rose with, lay still, not even twitching.

His figure was wispy as a Sakura tree in spring, but the elegant shoulders, normally so strong, were slumped. His eyes were a dull shade of emerald. His very aura exuded an oppressive air as he shuddered and turned on the chair, so he faced the desk instead. A yawn escaped his lips as he glanced at the stack of calculus homework, biology report papers, literature text, and a script that bore his name in a flourished hand. A number two pencil lay carelessly abandoned on the math calculus book.

So much to do, yet too little initative to do it. Minamono Shuichi, aka Kurama, was in the throes of depression, an emotion that gave him little rest. Yet he could only think of one reason: Youko.

The past year university had been doubly hard as his thieving instincts came back alive and kicking. Oh, he had indulged in the occasional theft to satiate his darker nature, but that only made it worse.

He cursed the day that he once again transformed into Youko. Before, life was enjoyable, aside from the stressful time Sensui had nearly gotten away with inviting all manner of demons into the human world. Still, he had the professors and students of university fooled.

Life had gotten boring. He no longer had regular contact with Yusuke, Kuwabara, Shizuru, Botan, Hiei, and Keiko, but thank god his mother was alive and well. When they visited, his testy nature would lift.

Kurama took one more look at his work and picked up the pencil in his right hand, determined to keep his grades up. Mother would be thrilled when he would present another ‘A’ exam next week, and to do that, he would need to work.

A desire deep from within his soul cried out for him to have fun and go, go out to the local mall, but Kurama knew it was Youko at work again. He ignored it, that call, though his mind and soul both begged him to. If he gave in….

If he gave in, Youko would ruin what he had built up. Shiori would be so disappointed, and never want to talk to him again after learning her son’s true identity.

He gripped the pencil, and determinedly straightened his shoulders.

[i]Tic. Toc. Tic. Toc. Scratch, scratch. Scratch, scratch.[/I]

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