Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Silent Tears of Black ❯ Silent Tears of Black ( One-Shot )

Just a few words from Arishia-chan: This fanfic flips back and forth between past and present points of view because it is one of the four Reikai Tantei relating his story. (It's not bad grammar. ^_^) Also, I guess I should say there's a shounen-ai warning. It CAN be taken that way, if desired, even though I like to think of this couple as understanding comrades instead of "more-than-friends."

I wrote this thing in pieces, sometimes backwards, and with scattered phrases, so I'm amazed it came together at all. Oy vey!

Oh, and I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho. I'm just playing with the characters a bit. ::pats Hiei's hair::

Silent Tears of Black

****

Everyone cried when Kurama passed away.

I knew they would. It came as a shock to them. One moment he was sitting at dinner with his ningen family. The next he was being rushed to a hospital. Nothing could be done. Kurama was dead before he even reached the operating table.

So I guess ningen emotions could not handle such sudden news from me. I am never one for skipping around the point. After the Makai tournament, after Yuusuke returned to the Ningenkai and his female, Kurama never conversed with the others much. They never knew he had cancer.

"Kurama's dead," I told them.

At first, I received only silence as a reply. I did not much care for their reaction, but knew Kurama would have appreciated my staying. Then Yuusuke burst out laughing.

"What a joke! Kurama can't be dead. I would've felt it!"

I merely stared at him. Of course he had not felt it. Kurama's ki had diminished gradually as the cancer degraded his frail ningen body, little by little until his aura vanished completely. Even an S-class youkai such as Yuusuke would not have detected the change unless he expected it. And Yuusuke had not.

The laughter faded and was replaced with widened eyes. I looked away and walked over to the window, peering through the thin glass at the busy ningen city below. Yuusuke had fallen silent and I could feel all their eyes on me, waiting for me to explain.

"Urameshi!" Kuwabara yelled and flapped his lanky arms. "I can't find Kurama's ki!"

I managed to keep from rolling my eyes. "Kurama's dead," I repeated. "There is no youki to find."

"But - but -" The tall fool sat down on his futon heavily. He fisted his hands and dug the large knuckles into his eyes.

I did not have to look over to my sister to know she was already crying. I heard the soft clinking of her tear stones on the floor. The other two females, Keiko and Botan from the Reikai, were sobbing into each others' shoulders. Kuwabara's sister raised a shaky hand to her lips before realizing there was no cigarette to puff on.

I expected those reactions from them. I even expected the tears flowing down Yuusuke's cheeks. What I did not expect was for him to stalk over and strike me roughly across the mouth.

"Bastard, you knew! You knew all along!" he hissed and grabbed the folds of my black cloak. He shoved his face close to mine, raising me off the floor until my toes barely touched. "How could you?! Kurama is our friend!" His voice cracked and tears choked him again. "He was . . ." He surprised me again by setting me gently back on my feet and sitting heavily beside his weeping ningen friend.

After listening to them sniffle, I wiped the blood away with the back of my hand. "I did what Kurama asked me to do," I said. "I owe him no less."

"Oniisama?"

I turned to my sister, her ruby eyes glistening. Yukina knew of our family tie, had known for a long time. When she looked up at me then, I saw understanding etched across her small face.

"Will he ever come back, oniisama?"

"I don't know."

Inside, I did not doubt that Kurama was gone forever.

***

There was more crying at the funeral the next day.

People came to say how sorry they were to Kurama's ningen mother, Shiori, and the rest of his family. 'Shuiichi' had been a very popular ningen, a fitting reputation for the once legendary youko. Old classmates from the high school. New classmates from the university. Family. All adored him.

Those people came and went, none of them staying more than a few hours. I stayed the entire day, watching those foolish ningens from atop the roof of the Minamino residence.

No matter how much I survey ningens, I will never fully understand them, just like Kurama never could either. Why do they prolong the inevitable by having a funeral? It only makes their pain worse. The wails Shiori made proved my theory.

Of all that knew Kurama, or Shuiichi, only I did not ever cry.

***

"Kurama, your youki level has been dropping."

He stopped walking, raising his emerald eyes to the tree branch I stood upon. He waited until I jumped to the ground before continuing his slow pace. Neither one of us spoke.

His family was not at their house when we arrived. Kurama unlocked the door and held it open for me to go inside. Quickly glancing around the room, I settled for stuffing my hands in my pockets and placing myself by the window.

Kurama set his books on the table and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt as he went upstairs. A few minutes later he came back changed into a t-shirt, as he once called it, and loose grey pants. I silently followed his careful movements. He made two cups of strong-smelling tea and handed me one of them. I accepted it, even though I hated ningen tea, and downed the stuff in one swallow. His own he quietly sipped. I waited. He put the cup down and stared at his reflection.

"I'm dying," he stated.

Silence.

He looked up, emerald depths carefully masked. "Say something."

Silence.

What did he want me to say? Sorry? I was not the one killing him. Change back into the youko? He would refuse anyway. Told you so? Kurama never took well to mocking.

"At least grunt that you heard me."

"Hnnn," I offered thoughtfully.

Kurama sighed. He stood and collected our two cups, pouring out the rest of his tea before setting them in the sink. Suddenly his hands gripped the porcelain till the knuckles turned white. I heard his breath quicken, ningen heart pumping wildly. His shoulders trembled, eyes squeezing tightly shut. His ki lowered drastically and his knees buckled beneath him.

I slipped my arm around his slender waist.

Startled emerald eyes sprung open and stared into mine and then quickly darted away. He tried to shove me back but instead was forced to grip my shoulders tightly against another wave of pain. He moaned softly and his deft fingers dug their nails through my cloak and into my skin.

"Hiei, go away."

And then I understood.

To a warrior, dying in battle is the greatest honor one can receive. To a warrior, dying because of old age or sickness is as detestable as cowering away from a fight. But neither Minamino Shuiichi or Youko Kurama were warriors, despite how easily he fooled the Three Worlds. Kurama enjoyed fighting, yes, but he saw it as a chance to be on stage, a performance for survival.

In battle, he allowed assistance when he got injured. In life, he could only refuse. Now, with this alien cancer slowly taking his life, Kurama again had to make the decision between ningen and youko. But that decision he was leaving up to me to make. If I left, I would be acknowledging him as a youko, a youkai dying a disgraceful death. If I stayed, I would be recognizing him as a ningen. Despite how my instincts urged, I knew my decision.

"Didn't you hear me? Go away!"

I fixed my red eyes on Kurama and his stubbornness forced him to meet my stare. I looked away first, tightening my hold on his waist. "Where is your room?"

"I won't repeat myself -"

"Then don't. Or do. Whichever." I shrugged, which was a little unbalanced because I supported Kurama with my shoulder. "I can drag you all over this house but would rather not waste my time."

He changed tactics. "You should know where it is," he mused, a wry smile overtaking his thinned lips. And so I did, from my vantage point outside. Many times had I watched Kurama, trying to figure him out, trying to understand why he confused me so much.

"I've never entered except by the window!" I snapped at him. I can only be pushed so far.

"Calm down, little youkai," he soothed. I saw defeat in his green eyes. "Upstairs, last door on the left."

I picked him up, ignoring his protesting cry. Let him be indignant. I always enjoyed every minute I unnerved the youko just as he unnerved me. His body was light, too light for someone so tall. I could feel his ribs with my fingers, his shoulder bony against mine. I carried him to his room and slid him under the sheets. After feeling his repressed shivering while I held him, I also added a heavy blanket from the closet.

"How much longer do you have, Kurama?"

"Two days, at most," he answered simply. "Three, if I used my plants, but I don't think I will."

"And after?"

He frowned, thinking. "Can the dead tell time? I suppose a few days while I convince Koenma to retire my soul and then eternity after that."

As I figured. In the back of my mind, I wondered why I wasn't yelling at him. I exhaled slowly to detain any potential anger and came to stand at his bedside. Neither one of us spoke for so long, I thought Kurama had fallen asleep. Then he spoke wistfully and contemplatively.

"I wonder how everyone will react to the news you'll bring them."

"That you are dead?" I affirmed.

"No, Hiei, that I've grown a third eye." He huffed in annoyance. "You will tell them, won't you? I wouldn't want anyone else to."

I gave him an affirmative, just so he would stop asking. "Everyone cares about you," I said. "Though I haven't a clue why. They will all be shocked, then angry, then sad." Seeing Kurama's eyes grow moist, I added, "Then they'll shout 'Good riddance, fox!' and live out the rest of their pathetic ningen lives none the worse."

He swatted a hand at me and unsuccessfully tried to cover a grin.

"Maybe not 'good riddance,'" I said. "But something similar. The great fool will probably go punch a tree while Yuusuke punches on him. The girls will weep because you never tried to use those infamous youko seductive powers they undoubtedly heard about on them."

"You give me too much credit," Kurama chuckled. "But I will miss all of them, my friends."

"And your ningen mother?"

A sharp intake of breath. He cut his eyes at the wall in a way that showed how much he was angered by my question. I held down a wince. Low, even for me; I rarely tested the boundaries of Kurama's wrath.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the youko cared not for the woman and only spared her for his human aspect.

"Shuiichi, her son, will die," Kurama said at last in a voice not truly iced. "She doesn't know about me, so it doesn't matter."

I was not wrong. From the moment Kurama told me how he had saved Shiori's life by using the Mirror of Utter Darkness, I had known the youko was forever changed from what he once was. He was still a bastard, yes, but a bastard with a soft spot.

"What about you, Hiei?"

Swift fox, to change the subject. But I let it pass and shrugged. "I will leave for the Makai."

"Oh."

He sounded disappointed. I told him as much.

"I thought maybe . . ." He trailed off and stared up at the white ceiling.

"Kurama, do not try to make me into someone I am not, nor make me feel what I do not."

Silence.

I sighed, mentally kicking myself. "But . . . just supposing . . ."

He caught on. "Just supposing . . . what would you do then?"

I kissed him, then.

His cheek felt cold beneath my lips. I was afraid I might burn his fair skin so I raised up, perhaps too hastily. His face was questioning and he touched the place on his cheek where I had kissed.

"We're friends, aren't we?" He said it like my action confirmed a suspicion. Friend . . . the word does not exist in any Makai language. It ranks with 'love,' which is almost as rare. Youkai are known to each other as blood-kin, partner, or lover, and never friend.

//Our eyes met for the first time in our lives. My sister. Yukina.

"Who - who are you?"

Your brother, I wanted to say.

I glanced at the others below the booth we stood in - Yuusuke, Kuwabara - and Kurama's presence also flickered behind me. One word sprang to my mind and for weeks after that I thought I had gone insane.

"I'm a friend."//

"Hiei? Aren't we?"

"I guess so," I answered and pretended not to see the light that shone in his eyes.

He looked so fragile on that bed, pale and thin and distressingly human. I do not know why that image still haunts me. The sight of flaming hair surrounding shimmering emerald eyes I can never forget. Red on green, like the roses he loved.

"Hiei, tell me about Makai."

"You are a demanding fox, aren't you?"

He chuckled softly, mouth curving as he tried to smile. "Only around you, Jaganshi, do I have to be."

"Baka kitsune."

"Three-eyed brat."

"Smelly ningen."

He grinned. "My friend."

I came and sat by his side. Pale, slender fingers reached out, hesitated, and wrapped around my own smaller ones.

"Makai air is fresher, cleaner than the air in Ningenkai," I told him, letting my voice grow gentle. "The trees are taller and provide adequate perches . . ."

"For you."

"Quiet, fox. The blossoms of Makai flowers are always ten times as large as any here, even if they do not smell as nice. The wind feels like it could sweep you away and sometimes it does, but you do not mind because this is the Makai and a youkai's homeland . . ."

I talked well into the night. I told him about the past, the first time we met. The first time we fought on the same side. I told him I how hated to see him battle in the tournaments, knowing he was not a warrior.

I told him about the future, how Mukuro would overtake Youko Kurama's old territory - he laughed and ordered me to say it was a mere gift, no one took anything from a youko. I told him tons of people would miss him. I told him his mother would put red roses on his grave.

I told him I knew everyone would cry.

My voice was sore and cracked by the time Kurama fell asleep; I do not usually use it so readily. I untangled our fingers and bent over once to press my cheek against his. His skin felt icy. I straightened and looped my sword around my waist, adjusting my scarf.

"Hiei . . ." came a tired voice.

"Go back to sleep, Kurama. I will be around."

"I'm tired."

"I know." I hesitated. "And there is nothing wrong with that. Rest easy, friend."

"Mmm'kay." He turned over in bed, putting his back to me in a manner that voiced trust. He always had the habit of showing me he could trust, and I gave him back the same. Maybe not in such an obvious way, but enough so that his quick eyes easily caught the implications.

I stayed in his room until his ningen mother came in to check on him. I heard their whispered exchanging of words and knew he felt only one regret. Shiori.

//"Two days, at most. Three, if I used my plants, but I don't think I will."//

Kurama died the next day.

***

It seemed appropriate that it would rain on the day of Kurama's funeral. Dark clouds had been gathering since that morning. When the heavy downpour finally was let loose, I abandoned my advantage point for one of the thicker trees dotting the backyard. Any wet droplets that managed to squeeze through the leaves were instantly vaporized before touching me.

From the Minamino residence, a door creaked open and slammed loudly. A ningen female rushed outside and collapsed beneath my tree. I recognized her as Shiori, Kurama's ningen mother, and she was weeping quietly. Her face and arms were starkly pale against the black attire she wore - the 'mourning' colour, Kurama once explained. I only wear black as an object of concealment, but ningens are always confusing.

I noticed Shiori was getting soaked in the cold rain. I inwardly cursed. Knowing how frail human bodies are, even a slight chill could bring death to them. Kurama had given his life many times to save this woman and I could do no less than honor that.

I gave a short burst of youki, controlling the wave and letting it wash over the woman. Shiori's shivering seemed to lessen as her clothes and hair dried. She glanced around fearfully and I was surprised when her eyes landed exactly on my hiding spot.

"Who - who's there?"

Damn. Seeing no other choice, I stepped lightly to the ground and shoved my fists into my cloak as I detached myself from the shadows. Shiori clutched her thin shawl more tightly around her small shoulders, a defensive gesture. Smart woman, to realize my power.

"I will not harm you," I told her. "You are Kurama's mother. I have no reason to do you ill."

I doubted she believed me. I wondered if she would scream if I took a step closer. My boot clunked softly on the grass but she only stared at me with a confused expression.

"Kurama?"

"You call him Shuiichi."

She smiled, relaxing. "You knew Shuiichi? I've never seen you before. What's your name?"

I remained silent. I reveal my name only to those I intend to see again. I was leaving for the Makai come sunrise and my name would be of little importance to this woman.

Her smile faltered. "Gomen ne," she whispered. "Shuiichi never spoke much about his friends. He never really told me much at all about stuff like that." Her gentle eyes widened as if realizing what she had said. "Not - not that he wasn't a good son! Shu-chan was the best son a mother could ever hope to have! He just seemed so . . . distant." She laughed, painfully, and the laughter died quickly. "Please forgive me, sir, I'm not myself at the moment."

Understandable.

The ningen woman spoke truth, though. Kurama had always set himself apart from others. Not higher, not lower, just . . . apart. Even in the midst of a group such as between battles at the Tournaments, his eyes were distant.

No one ever understood Kurama, myself included. But Kurama never wished to be understood and never bothered to explain his actions. That was, perhaps, the only thing we ever had in common. To let someone else understand meant to open them up to your own pain.

Kurama held much pain, too much sometimes. This was mainly because he held himself responsible for too many people - Yuusuke, Kuwabara, myself. And his ningen family.

***

My eyes were wide, blazing in shock and anger. "K-Kurama? What the hell-"

He smirked even as scarlet soaked across his stomach. He reached out a shaky hand and sliced his palm on the blade of the ghost sword. I knew what he was about to do but yet I stood still. I felt his acrid ningen blood burn my Jagan and blind me.

"A small portion of the debt I owe," I heard Kurama mumble to Yuusuke.

Then I continued my fight. And lost.

I awoke in a Reikai prison. Wards were all around me, binding and choking my youki, cutting me off from the sensations around me. I allowed myself to feel grim satisfaction that I was feared this much, but I never do well caged.

A door opened and Kurama entered. He walked gingerly; a hand twitched as if to cover his wound, the wound I had given him, otherwise he seemed fine. He sat at my feet and I noticed that he was not warded.

"You begged, didn't you?"

A look of pain laced across his face but he masterfully smothered it beneath another one made of ice. "I did not beg for my freedom, no. It was given to me by Koenma."

I could not stop my sneer. "The Prince of the Dead gives nothing for free, Kurama. He wants you to do something for him, doesn't he?" At the youko's silence, I narrowed my red eyes. "Kurama . . ." I growled in warning.

He stood and crossed the room to the tiny barred window. I noticed he deliberately put his back to me, a sign of trust. I was perhaps the last person Kurama should trust. The betrayed could easily become the betrayer. His shoulders slumped.

"Ever heard of the Reikai Tantei?" he asked quietly.

"Of course I have." I snarled at the words. "They are the enemies of any youkai."

"I knew you would say that." Kurama turned to me, his eyes bright and calm. "There is another point of view to every direction in life, Hiei. Some directions are mistakes and others are the right choices. I made a mistake by stealing again. Now I right that mistake, through Yuusuke."

I blinked. "You would side with a Reikai Tantei?"

"No, I would become one."

I stared at him in disbelief. "K- kisama . . . KISAMA!" In a blur too fast for even the youko to see, I had my hands at his throat, ignoring the burning sensation as the wards struggled to control my youki. I shook him and his head snapped back and forth roughly. "How could you?! Seven hells, you are a demon, Kurama! A youkai, just like me! Not - not a ningen . . ." Vaguely, I became aware that the body I pinned against the wall was still and not fighting back, and his throat was too thin beneath my fingers. I released him, clasping his shoulders instead. "Those ningens have poisoned your mind and the Reikai will only take advantage of it."

His ningen heart beat rapidly in my ears as I laid my forehead against his chest, frustrated. "Do not make me kill you, Kurama."

"I owe a debt. You can understand that."

"A small portion of the debt I owe."

I pushed away as gently as I could despite my stubborn anger. "To whom? Yuusuke?"

"Aa."

I waited for him to explain, knowing he would if I stayed silent long enough.

"He helped me save kaasan. The Mirror would have taken my life but he, the crazy idiot, stepped in and took half the burden. I would have died if not for Yuusuke."

"You almost died for a ningen woman?"

He sighed, a weighed sound. "And I would do it again. Koenma trusts me now because I'm debt-bound to Yuusuke. If you want to kill me, at least put it off until I fulfill it."

". . .fine" I muttered.

"There's more," Kurama continued, stepping around to where I faced him again. "Koenma has agreed, albeit reluctantly, to extend this pardon to you as well."

My eyes grew wide. "No!"

"Not even to escape several hundreds years of imprisonment?"

"Never!"

"You'll be free within a few years of good service." I saw the twinkle in his emerald eyes, the unmistakable spark that revealed the mischievous youko within. I was a new challenge for him. Somehow Kurama had managed to convince the Prince of the Dead to give me parole when he should have locked me away forever, and it was that same sharp-witted tongue knocking me off balance once again. A curious youko was a dangerous thing.

"I said no!"

"You get to work alongside me." The youko grinned slyly.

I wanted to hit him. Hard.

"Hiei."

I was slipping, falling into yet another cage. Did Kurama even realize what it meant to capture me, Hiei the Damned? Likely not, just like he threw himself blindly into a partnership with Yuusuke, a ningen that did not smell right. Just like he pledged loyalty to his human mother who would never know him.

"Hiei?"

Kurama the youko had captured me. How could I react? I reacted the only way I knew how -

"Hn."

His grin broadened and I knew I had lost once again.

***

"You know," I said softly, thoughtfully. Shiori's head snapped up, startled by my sudden voice since I had not spoken in awhile. "He always loved you."

She blinked. "H-hai. I always loved Shuiichi too. Always will."

But I shook my head, turning away slightly. "I speak of Kurama."

"K- Kurama?"

"Your son," I said, not looking at her. "Shuiichi had another life, one as Kurama, one of which you did not know of. For your protection, and his own, he never told you. Kurama was a sneaky character." I smirked at the thought. "Randy and cold. Still, he loved you."

Over my shoulder, I peered at the ningen woman. Her face was ashen, eyes unseeing. Just as I expected. I shrugged to myself and started walking toward the small door that led out into the street, to the forest, to the portal that would take me home.

If she calls, Kurama, if she calls me back . . . you know I will tell her everything. If she only calls, I will return to her and tell her what you never could. If she does not, I will simply continue walking and never see the blue skies of Ningenkai again. But if she calls . . .

Behind me, the woman had not moved.

The street was empty because of the early morning hour. A cool breeze swept up leaves and tossed them around, tugging on the hem of my cloak. Thunder rumbled overhead moments before unleashing even more dreary rain.

Kurama was dead, and much needed to be taken care of. Mukuro would need to be informed, if she did not sense it already. Youkai from across the Makai would want to know the truth, know if the legendary Kurama was indeed dead. Small wars could break out, balances shifting.

A ningen car raced past me and the sound of a gate banging shut was almost lost in the engine roar.

"Matte! Please, s-stop!"

I paused, hearing Shiori's light footsteps on the pavement. As earlier, I kept the woman dry with my youki but it did not frighten her as much as it had then. I expected her to invite me in for tea, which so many ningens enjoyed to do. Shiori ran to me and fell to her knees in the standing water. She clasped my clenched fists in her frail, ningen hands. I saw the scars laced up the small wrists. Her eyes, now level with mine, were a dark, deep green and I found myself unable to breathe. My reflection stared right back at me, my scarlet eyes. Red and green. Oh gods . . .

Ask me, ask me in to tea, woman, because I can't handle anything more the way I have always handled it. Ask me!

"Please . . ." the woman whispered. "Whoever you are . . . you were my son's friend. Please, t-tell me about Kurama, my son!"

And I did, fox. I told her everything.

I think you would be proud of your mother, Kurama. She managed not to cry until the end. I think I finally understand what tiny bit of happiness you found in this female ningen.

Rest easy . . . I will be watching over her.

*Owari*

Arishia-chan's Note: This fanfic was probably one of the most enjoyable I've ever written. It came to me easier than I thought it would, since Hiei and Kurama are so enigmatic it's hard to understand them at times. I wanted to try and take a different look at the two of them, as well as their views of each other.

I think Kurama sees a challenge in Hiei. He pesters and pushes buttons until Hiei has no choice but to shove back. Take for example a scene from the second movie, Poltergeist Report. Hiei comes to Genkai's temple and Kurama asks him why he doesn't reveal to Yukina that he's her brother. Hiei snaps a 'mind your own business' reply and flits off, leaving behind Kurama, who grins.

In the same way, Hiei doesn't understand Kurama's choice to live as a human. One time during the first tournament, Kurama was playing cards with the others and Hiei told him that he was getting too comfortable with ningens, or something like that.

Hiei and Kurama always seemed to counterbalance each other, don't you think?

But anyways, I'm just rambling and not making much sense. ^_^ Hope you enjoyed my first posted YYH fic. It was fun to write, if nothing else.

Oh, and I don't know what colour Shiori-san's eyes really are, but I figured they're so dark, they COULD be green, ne? var PUpage="76001070"; var PUprop="geocities"; var yviContents='http://us.toto.geo.yahoo.com/toto?s=76001070&l=NE&b=1& amp;t=1002732309';yviR='us';yfiEA(0);geovisit();