Everything I am in life, I owe to my own death.
Poetic justice always struck me as the universe's way of satisfying its own morbid humor. Surely, it would not be what it was, if it did not want to be. And it would not want to be, if it did not enjoy it.
Yet, whether is wants to enjoy it is an entirely different question.
The shadow whispers to me , and tells me to give in. To let him in. I know that if I did that, we would be intertwined even farther than we already are. I can feel him, inside me, and I can sense myself in him. We are not the same. We are one. We are individually embraced, in a battle. He's fighting to merge us more—I am fighting to get away.
Or so, that's how it started out to be. But the more time goes on, the more intoxicating the darkness is. I see everything we do, everything we are doing— I can feel it, taste it, smell it. The scent of blood and the spice of destruction. I am helpless to do anything about his actions. I grew tired trying to stop him, now all I can do is watch. And watch I do. At first, I screamed out against it, it repulsed me. But now I salivate for it. Hypothetically, of course. I'm just as hungry for it as him, the pain, the strife, the chaos. It's like a drug, it fills me in places I never knew where where empty. Before I met the Nogitsune, I did not know the meaning of starvation, of desire, or of power. I never knew it was possible to lose control and be in complete control all at once. It is liberation.
"They never appreciated you, Stiles," it whispers against his soul and skin, when they are waiting in the loft. "Your father loves you, yes, but he refused to believe you until the last minute. He drinks and eats even though he knows his health. No matter what you say. Almost as if he doesn't care if he leaves you alone, just like everyone else does. Lydia passed you over every chance she got. Kira only cares about Scott. The minute Scott got a taste of power, and of love, he abandoned you."
"He came back." Stiles protested weakly.
"Did he?"
No reply. The Nogitsune chuckled, and breathes pleasure into his nerves and into his heart, making him shudder down to his bones. Warmth fills him, and the room grows cold.
"I will take care of you, even if you won't take care of me. I will never leave you. I love you, for who you are, Stiles."
Something about that sentence raises a silent question in Stiles. "No, I'm not going to use your 'real' name, Stiles. Because it isn't your real name. The name you choose is yours."
"I didn't choose the name Stiles. My dad did. But you knew that." he says.
"Yes, I did. Do you have another name in mind?"
Stiles considers this. Then he realizes something. "Did you choose the name 'Nogitsune'?"
"No. It isn't my real name, just a label." It seems pleased, like Stiles is on the right track.
"What's your real name?" He asks, his undying curiosity getting the best of him, as it always does. The sun is slowly descending outside. They will be here soon.
"What holds up the world and consumes it at the same time?" It riddles him. He's beginning to enjoy riddles.
"Darkness." Stiles tells it, knowledge settling in as if it belongs there.
It purrs in contentment. "Yes, but not yes..."
They are distracted by the entrance of the humans. Stiles watches as they scream over shooting him or not shooting him. He watches as the sun sets. The Nogitsune is up to something.
"You're here to protect me." It announces.
But no one moves. They look at each other, silently debating.
"No, we aren't."
Stiles is shocked.
"But Stiles is still in here, don't you want to—" The Nogitsune begins, but an angry Scott cuts it off.
"You can protect yourself from the Oni!" He exclaims.
They both know this as truth, if the Oni weren't stronger now. Do his friends know that? Are they going to let him and Nogitsune die?
The Nogitsune is angry. "Don't you see, they'd sacrifice you in an instant!" It hisses to him and only him.
Confusion reigns him.
To the room, the Nogitsune snarls. "You are all fools!"
Before it turns to face the Oni, coming at it full speed. They try to fight them off as best they can, but it is harder than before. Stiles is afraid. The Nogitsune isn't, and he takes comfort in that. In some distant part of his mind, he wonders when he started taking comfort in the Nogitsune, of all things.
"Your friends have turned their back on you," it whispers to him as the Oni swarm him. The Nogitsune does it's best to fight them off, but soon he falls to Stiles' knees as a slice takes out his knee.
His so called friends make no move to help.
"WILL YOU REALLY LET HIM DIE LIKE THIS?" The Nogitsune screeches at them.
Scott is crying, but his eyes are hard.
"My son would want us to get rid of you, no matter what." The Sheriff whispers.
It hits Stiles like a brick. They are going to let him die.
He is shocked at first, and confused. Then, he is angry. Righteously angry.
He has done so much for all of them, and they stand by and watch him killed for no reason other than to destroy the Nogitsune? Does the Nogitsune really need to be destroyed? All it needs is chaos, that doens't need to mean death... then again, when has the universe ever spared him the pain of people dying around him?
Anger fills his hollowed heart; they've betrayed him! They were supposed to protect him!
"We can protect ourselves, we need not be weak and afraid, but only if we join. Let me in, Stiles." The Nogitsune begs, as the Oni's swords slash into their skin, and red blood spills onto the hardwood floor of the loft. Pain explodes throughout them.
Stiles has always been weak. Always been taken for granted.
Until now.
He is needed. He is loved. He is desired. He is wanted. He has tasted power, and completion. "Let me talk to them, please." He asks in return. He finds his voice, and calls out.
"Dad! Dad, please, it's me, please! Scott! Allison! We can't fight them!" He screams, and the Nogitsune uses their arm to block a blow meant for their neck.
"Your tricks don't fool us! Stiles is gone!" Allison snarls back, and Stiles doens't get a chance to see the tears in her eyes.
"They have forsaken you, Stiles!" The shadows lament, wrapping around his wildly beating heart.
Stiles lets go. He lets go of his inhibitions, of the pain, of the resentment, of the resistance.
The two of them crash together inside him like two intersecting waves, colliding nd then whirling around each other, melding into one essence.
Strength floods them, and all their wounds heal. With a snap of their fingers, the Oni are destroyed. Their friends—no, their enemies—no, they are nothing to them anymore. Nothing at all. All the little humans who shunned part of what he used to be scramble back as they stand up tall, and breathe in their first breath in this new existence.
"Tell me, what's our real name?" The dark half of him asks.
"Void." The darker half replies
