To Live For You
To Live For You
By Bobbi Meislohn
(Standard disclaimer: I don't own YYH or its characters; they are the sole property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shonen Jump Comics Weekly, Studio Pierrot and Fuji Television)
A/N: This story was inspired from a scene from Mercedes Lackey's wonderful book, Magic's Price, which was recommended to me by BlueUtopiah. And so this one-shot is dedicated to her with much love!
Hiei's POV
Emerald eyes that still hold their lust for life open as I enter the room and make my way over to the bed. Yet there is darkness in them now as well: a darkness born of pain; the pain of an illness for which there is no cure. I've always loved his eyes, though I've never told him this. Of course, knowing the fox, it's something he's known all along.
Scarlet hair is fanned out upon the pillow; a fitting crown for the face that, even with the ravages of his illness clearly visible upon it, remains beautiful.
"How are you, Fox?" I ask. The question is rhetorical and we both know it. Since his illness was diagnosed, a scant two months ago, his health's been on a steady decline.
"A bit tired today," he replies with a smile and a shrug then raises a thin, almost skeletal hand; the flesh so pale as to be almost transparent. "But better now that you're here," he finishes as I sit down on the edge of the bed and take his hand in mine. The flesh is cold and I raise my temperature slightly in an attempt to warm it.
"I'd have been here sooner," I reply, "but Mukuro decided that today was the day I should have another lesson in diplomacy."
Diplomacy: her euphemism for the pointless political machinations that have become a part of daily life within Makai since the Detective's first Demon World Tournament. A snarl escapes me as the memory of this day's particular lesson washes over me. How I long for a return to the bloodshed!
As if divining my very thoughts, Kurama chuckles and I fix him with my best glare. A glare guaranteed to give an S-class demon pause, but which only turns his chuckles into full blown, albeit soft, laughter. He bites his lower lip, attempting to stifle that laughter.
"Poor Hiei," he commiserates, or at least tries to, though the smile remaining on his lips negates his rather poor attempt. "Rough day?"
"You have no idea, Fox!" And then we begin talking, or at least I do.
There was a time when I was the reticent one, and he the conversationalist. One more thing his illness has changed. Talking now wearies him, as so much else does these days, and so our conversations are left largely to me while he listens silently, the occasional smile or nod his only contribution.
Today, however, is different. There are no smiles or nods, his thoughts obviously elsewhere as I continue speaking. By the distracted look on his face, whatever those thoughts are, they weigh heavy on his mind.
I stop my useless prattle, quietly observing him for a moment, before I ask, "What's the matter, Fox?"
I've startled him. His eyes, which had been contemplating the ceiling while I'd been speaking, shift to meet mine. He doesn't immediately answer, fathomless green eyes continuing to hold my own, as though he were searching for something only he would find within their crimson depths.
Quite suddenly he speaks, the softly voiced question the very last thing I expect to hear. "What am I to you, Hiei?"
Everything! You are my sun and my moon… my very heart and soul. All that I am, and all that I would ever hope to be, is because of you.
My heart shouts the answer I will not voice aloud.
Rather… "Hn, stupid Fox. Why ask that to which you already know the answer?" Gently I run my thumb along the back of the hand in mine before I quietly add, "I would die for you, you know?"
Another rhetorical question. Of course he knows. He's always known. Just as I've always known that he would do the same for me.
Yet he nods in acquiescence and then speaks again. "If you would die for me, then conversely, you would live for me as well, yes?" Without waiting for an answer, he continues, "Live for me, Hiei… please."
I cannot deny him. I've never been able to deny him anything and he knows it. Just as he knows I will not deny him this. I lean forward and touch my lips to his – just the slightest brushing of my lips against his before I answer him. "Of course, Fox."
He smiles again, and nods, satisfied that he's extracted the promise he knows I will keep now at all costs. "Thank you, Love," he says softly and the hand in mine tightens briefly.
Then closing his eyes, he lets sleep claim him, leaving me to ponder the implications of the promise that I have given him.
Owari
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