Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Orphans of Silence ❯ Orphans of Silence ( Chapter 1 )

 

Orphans of Silence

 

A breath of air, cool and touched by every trace of chill, curled around the nape of his neck, sending a few tendrils of ice to seep past the protection of his cloak. The touch, insubstantial and yet somehow almost like a physical hand, moved across his shoulders; he turned his head, his dark eyes narrowing.

 

In a flicker of shadows he was gone, racing across the city, darting in and out of sight faster than the very formation of thought. Only when he had drawn close to his destination did he slow; only when he had come upon the grounds of Genkai's temple did he come to settle crouching upon the branch of a tree, down below him one large window of the temple opening the way to the sight of Yukina kneeling upon a prayer mat, her back to him, her head lowered. Something felt different between them - he tensed, his hand clenching around the hilt of his katana where he had drawn it by his side, the blade biting into the tree's flesh.

 

Is it time?

 

When will it come?

 

Is it -

 

It is time.

 

Will it -

 

He scowled; crimson-velvet eyes narrowed to slits as one tiny white fang appeared at his lip, silent testimony to an unspoken, unvoiced snarl. Something was different . . . something was . . .

 

“I know you're there, Hiei.”

 

It was soft, a whisper of breath, of sound, barely heard over the distance that separated them. And yet he heard it as clearly as if she had spoken it aloud. A second chill curled around him where he crouched, - the unfamiliar yet somehow comforting feeling of icy winds and a world and life of snow and ice and glaciers. Yukina . . . had never spoken his name without the honors before. Instantly he stiffened, distrustful of such a change, yet before he realized what he was doing he found himself standing before her, his palm still wrapped around the hilt of his sword where it now lay nestled in its sheath at his hip. She did not so much as look up; her head remained bowed, her hands lay serenely in her lap.

Hiei looked up, his gaze darting around the room. There didn't seem to be any danger, but . . . the room was cold. It was a fickle, illusive sort of cold, just around the edges and no more. It made him uneasy, this difference in the koorime maiden before him, and the strange feel to the room, the very air around her. “Yukina . . . -”

 

“Hiei . . . please, sit.”

 

He hesitated, yet stepped forward and did as she bid, sitting stiffly a half-pace away from her, his back straight, his shoulders tense. Something wasn't right. Something was definitely different about Yukina. Had she been threatened - harmed? He would kill anyone who had dared to do so yet . . . it didn't seem as if there was nor had there ever been any threat to her. There was simply - her, sitting there, silent amidst the quiet voices of nothingness. He opened his mouth to speak - to inquire what -

 

“Do you have any memory of your mother, Hiei?”

 

That took him back. He started violently, his jaw snapping shut with a near audible click. When he did speak, it was in a sharp, gruffing bark, not quite a growl, yet not quite anything else, either. “No.”

 

“. . . oh. I see.”

 

She spoke so softly; still she did not look up. There was such a stillness, such a peace to her, that it was almost as if she knew he was lying, and chose of her own not to press the issue. One small hand unfolded from her lap and reached forward to take one of his; this she placed upon her other palm, and cradled within her soft touch as if she were trying to comfort him.

 

“My mother was very pretty.” She whispered slowly, her thumb ever-so gently caressing the back of his hand, feather-light across his knuckles. “She was - very kind. Considerate, like none other upon the Floating Island of the Koorime. Others loved her for her kindness. . . . In some ways, I envied her - for she was everything I had always hoped to be. The others . . . they said that I was exactly like her, and I could not find thanks enough within my words to express how much that meant to me. . . . I looked up to her. I loved her, with everything I had. . . . She was all I was given at birth, save for my brother, whom I have never truly known.” Her grip upon his hand, although still faint, shifted. She trailed the tips of her fingers along his palm, sending an awkward shiver down his spine. “And yet . . . she was adventurous. She did not always accept the rules of the Koorime as all maidens of the ice glaciers should. The others . . . did not have kind words for her, nor myself, when either one of us revealed this wayward trait within our actions, and yet we could do nothing but apologize and lie meek before the Elders. . . . They always looked to my mother in conflicting ways; at times they loved her, and yet at times they hated her. This was because she ran away from the Floating Island once in her youth - an act that is punishable by banishment of itself. She was gone for years . . . and when she returned she was wounded and brought forth, carried in the arms of a stranger who had dared to chance the deadly winds that are nature to our kind. She was Healed and remained in life . . . but was discovered to be filled with child - and not just with one, as is the way of the Koorime when we reproduce, but with two. One was myself - a female, taken after her mother and her ancestors of the glaciers. The other was my brother - a male, looked upon as an abomination by our kind, and cast out before he was even a day old. . . .”

 

Hiei repressed a second shiver at the soft, breathy tone of her voice, clenching his teeth together forcefully. He had never heard Yukina speak of her mother - of their mother - simply because it was a delicate matter to her. He had never dared to ask, for fear she would discover that he himself was the brother she had sought so long for. Yet now, as she willingly spoke of the mother he had never had the chance to get to know as she had . . . his free hand balled itself into a fist where it rested upon his thigh, his fingernails digging into the callused flesh of his palm.

 

“And so you see . . . why I wish so much to find him.” Yukina at long last lifted her eyes and met his gaze, her own dark and filled with silent compassion. “Hiei . . . tell me of your father. Did you . . . ever know him, either?”

 

No. He wanted to snap back the way he had before, to make the word gruff and deliberate this time in hopes of breaking the strange mood she seemed to be within, yet it did not pass his lips. His own voice betrayed him in murmuring quietly, “. . . Once. I met him - only once.”

 

An invisible, weightless sigh drifted through Yukina, easing her shoulders just a bit as a tiny smile flittered across his features. “Tell me of him . . .”

 

Hiei shifted uncomfortably. Normally he would not speak of this to anyone - no, not even Kurama - but somehow he could never deny his sister anything, even should it be something simple as answering questions of his past. But - why now? Of all the times for her to ask of his parents -- why now?

 

“He was - an excellent warrior. One of the best fighters I'd ever met. He killed many demons with barely a second glance - emerged from a battle of some three-hundred youkai with barely a single scratch and no more.” His eyes dropped to stare at his hand, where it lay still cupped between Yukina's tiny palms. “There was laughter within him as he sheared them down; he was fast, ferocious, and deadly.” He shifted in discomfort, scowling. “I only met him once.”

 

Yukina nodded in silence as if she understood - as if she could relate to the vague description he had given. “It seems we are more alike than it would seem, then, I suppose.” Hiei stiffened, his gaze snapping up to narrow upon her face; she was looking to their joined hands, oblivious to his sudden reaction. “I know only my mother, and you . . . know only your father. Neither of us knew them well, yet both of us would take pride in being told that we take after them.” She pet the back of his hand. “. . . You have such strong hands, Hiei . . .”

 

“I . . . fight.” Hiei muttered, at a loss for how to reply to such a statement from the ice-maiden. What had - happened - to her? What was - different?

 

“I can well imagine that my father would have such strong hands. He must have been very powerful to have overcome my mother in battle - she was a warrior as well - and yet strong enough to protect her against others. In fact . . . I can very well imagine that his son - my brother - would take after him as I took after my mother.” Something sharp, ice-like and cold - so very cold - constricted within Hiei's chest at the sound of those words; a blade of chill burrowed its way into his heart and made it hard to him to breathe. Yukina again did not seem to notice his discomfited silence; she leaned forward, wrapping her arm around his throat in a bare, half-hug. “Hiei . . .” She whispered, her breath both cool and yet warm against the curving line of his jaw where she pressed her cheek to his, “I look up to you, as well - did you know that? You are everything I would wish my father - and my brother - to be.”

 

He swallowed with difficulty, closing his eyes against her touch, her presence, yet unable to completely block out the feel of his sister so close to him. The snow-touch of her youki - so illusive about the room - teased the fire-heat of his own, beckoning to him, calling to him, begging him to accept the truth of his heritage and face the ice-demon powers lying dormant within his blood. “. . . why?”

 

She smiled against his jaw. “Because . . .” Her youki drew closer like a cloak of ice about them, so cold, and yet at the same time so comforting and peaceful in the silence of nothingness, of barren glaciers and clear, crystalline sunrises teasing across waves of snow. “You are strong . . .” She ducked her head a little, her cool breath drifting along his throat. “You are honorable . . .” Still, she held his hand within her own, lifting it just enough to press the back of his knuckles against her chest such that he could feel the slow, rhythmic beating of her heart. “And you protect me. You are my friend, Hiei . . .”

She pulled away, brushing her fingers along his cheek, a compassionate smile fluttering upon her lips. “You are my friend, my guardian . . .” Her hand tightened upon his. “My brother . . .”

 

That was it, then.

 

His eyes widened as he drew back, his chin lifting a little in wariness. Yukina allowed him that moment to sit frozen in shock before she smiled fully - a gentle, tender smile. “Of course I knew.” She whispered, answering the unspoken thoughts that ran rampant within his mind.

 

“How?” It came out short, abrupt, and choked; Hiei nearly recoiled from her proximity, and perhaps would have if she herself had not sat back, setting upon her knees once more.

“I knew . . .” she murmured, beginning to pet his wrist once more, “Because you are my blood and kin. We are twins - how could I not know? I feel myself within you - my mother, and the father I never have been allowed to meet.” She shifted, her dark red eyes lifting to meet his. “I was going to wait for you to tell me but . . .” Her smile turned a bit wry. “Fire-demons are not the only ones known for their impatience.”

 

“No one - told you?” Hiei grimaced thickly; he had known that Yukina was not so naïve as she often seemed, yet even so, it would be hard to actually find the truth in the fact that they - two completely opposites in manner and disposition - were related.

 

“No, Hiei.” Yukina was patient as she sat waiting for him to relax, to come to terms with her declaration. “No one told me. Have you - told anyone?”

 

“Kurama knows.” Was the immediate response, without so much as a hesitation betwixt thought. - And then, after a moment, “And Yuusuke.”

 

“Anou . . .” Yukina flushed prettily, her gaze falling upon her lap in the more modest rendition of the sister he knew. “Then . . . Kazuma-chan doesn't know?”

 

Hiei's gaze narrowed. “No . . .” he muttered cautiously. “Do you really like that jerk?”

A soft, embarrassed laugh, followed by more blushing and one dainty hand lifting to her cheek was his reply. “I . . . I'm not sure. He . . . he confuses me but . . . yes, brother, I think I like him.”

 

Brother. The term sounded wonderful upon her lips, although he did not dare to admit it to himself. So . . . she knew. Well, at least Kurama couldn't bug him anymore about telling her. Hn. Stupid fox.

 

Yukina giggled again, her hand now covering her mouth. Oh, Hiei . . .you are so silly sometimes.

 

Hiei blinked, taken aback by the foreign - yet familiar - thought within his mind. Only Kurama had ever been able to speak to him in the silence of their private thoughts, but . . . wouldn't it make sense if his sister could as well? Then that meant . . . she could have easily picked up any of his more intimate thoughts the whole time they had known one another.

 

Do not worry, Hiei. I am very careful.

Indeed, it seemed as if she was being careful; when she spoke to him her voice was slim and channeled - not so much as opening his mind to her touch, but gently placing a link of hers to his. She did not wish to intrude upon his private matters . . . just like Yukina, to think of others - even him - above herself.

 

She flushed again at his silence - both in mind as well as in voice. “Gomen, Hiei-san. I did not mean to take advantage. I will not -”

 

It's okay. He thought to her quickly, watching her face as it reflected surprise and a pleased delight. He spoke with her as awkwardly in thoughts as he would have in voice, yet it was something.

 

She came forward quickly - too quickly for him to recoil; she seemed to have his speed as well, although she had never shown it before - and wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug. He sat stiffly and bore it in silence - as he always did - yet pat her back awkwardly. Sister or not, he still wasn't used to - affection. “Arigato, oniisan.” She whispered, reassured as he relaxed the barest shade at the sound of her voice.

 

“YUKINA-CHAAAAAAAAN!!”

 

Yukina started, blinking as simultaneously Hiei bared his teeth in a snarl. “Oh . . .” she murmured, pulling away carefully and looking over her shoulder to the entrance of the temple, where somewhere beyond a certain particular red-headed ningen was frantically looking for her. A blush stained her cheeks at the thought as one delicate hand lifted to her faintly smiling lips. “It is Kazuma-chan. I should go . . .”

 

And yet she didn't. Her hand was still upon Hiei's shoulder, her crimson eyes laced in silent, pleading question. She did not wish to simply leave him to turn to another, not after such a confession was made and such words spoken between them. And there, too, was just like Yukina. Although she so obviously wished to rise and greet her suitor, she would not leave her brother's side until . . . “Hn.” Hiei looked away and shifted uneasily, shrugging a little. “Kurama's probably wondering where I am.”

 

Yukina hesitated . . . then nodded, her gaze softening to velvet. “Aa. Farewell, Hiei-san.”

In a single blur of darkness he was gone - just as Kuwabara came bursting through the door. Perhaps this was a good thing; he probably would probably have tried to kill the ningen for his next actions, as Kuwabara fell to his knees and offered Yukina a fist-full of slightly wilting, flower-like weeds and an adamant declaration of his undying love. The ice-maiden accepted both gratefully, if with a slightly confused look, as she had no idea what he was doing. And then - very faintly - came the dark yet almost gentle reply to her thanks only a few moments before, flitting briefly across her mind and bringing a smile to her lips.

 

You're welcome . . . - imouto.