Welcome to Gaia! ::

A/N: This is a follow-up to "Fallen That Far." I said I wanted to write more of that type, and well, what else was I to do when not stressing over Finals. ; )

This snippet has not title, hence the one it's been given. If someone would like to venture one out...^^; Um, the subject should be pretty easy to guess. I'm not good at the whole subtle, mysterious thing. Haha. Enjoy!

EDIT: Just corrected a few grammatical errors and used the title InkMistress so cleverly suggested. (I concurred! : D)

BTW, thinking of posting "Fallen That Far" and "Ambivalence" on fanfiction.net. Haven't posted on their since "Thank God for Reality." Thought it'd be nice to the one subscriber I have ^^; (And to all those stupid writers who don't know the characters for crap.) : D

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Many people said the first thing they noticed about him were his eyes. There was a saying that the eyes were a window to the soul, and his were very interesting, or so he'd been told. He often wondered when he, only meaning to glance at the mirror but becoming enthralled with the image it reflected, what people saw in them. Always calculating, he was. Always planning, evaluating, mulling, deciding. Did they see this? Or did they see the struggle? The torrents and ravaging storm that ripped inside at his throat and chest, that would constantly make his head throb insomuch as to interrupt the calculations he had so meticulously been making and make him ashamed of him and everything around him. Sometimes he found himself, in his own hypocrisy, standing with his feet precariously perched on the edge of the rooftop at night, the moon bathing the world in a silver he once knew so well, or gripping his precious rose so tightly, his hands were the colors of its blossom.

What was he other than a being caught between two world? A soul caught between two forms? A human, a demon, he didn't know anymore. His name lived on in legend. His name was still uttered by his closest friends or worst enemies. He had many names, all of the titles demanding his undivided attention. But really, what more were they than titles, simple labels for his many forms and actions and deeds, each paired with its own strengths and weaknesses, joys and pains, pasts, presents, and futures. What more was he than weak? Weak for the inability to control his emotions and feelings, to make the proper calculations that would allow him to live on, survive. And what? he wondered. Return to my demonic form? That plan failed long ago.

You can still return. You still have the chance. Doors are still open for you in Makaii. Opportunities await. Revolution is occurring. They could use you.

No, they need you here. The opportunities are here, in Ningenkaii. Stay with them.

Them or her?

"Well, where are you happiest?" a raucous voice asked. Kurama looked to the sky and smiled. Perhaps it was by divulging in one's weakness that one found his strength.