She was drawn to nature in a way that he would never be able to understand. Sure, he had a fondness inside him – somewhere, really, it had to be there – for the scent of grass freshly cut and the waft of air carrying the early signs of a storm, but it was never seen, if only because he wouldn't let it out. When he was on his own, there was no problem with admitting the subtle pleasures found in the flapping of a bird's wings and the hollow echoes of one animalistic call to another; but in the presence of others, a new side of him was pulled forward to disguise the truth.
But she was so open with who she was that at times, Hiei wondered if they could be related. There were so many contrasting qualities about them that it was almost so obvious that they were twins, if only because they were so unlike one another.
A gentle flake of snow fell from the sky, slowly drifting toward the ground to lie among the rest of the powdery covering. There was something serene about it that matched the form of his sister beneath the tree in which he sat: innocence, undoubtedly, and a feeling of carefree curiosity. In spite of himself, the faintest curve of his lips upward spread across his features.
The Koorime girl moved leisurely, apparently taking in everything about her with the grace that only an adolescent could afford – and yet she wasn't one. She was far past her days of simple youth, though the magic of her people had placed upon her a spell that kept her childlike façade all too real.
His crimson eyes, the perfect reflection of his personality to the point, trailed her each and every move, watching her leg lift and fall to leave a print in the snow, to witness her arms brush against the side of her kimono. He knew that it was too light of garb to be wearing for such horridly frigid temperatures outside, and as soon as the thoughts crossed his mind, he remembered that the Ice Maidens were gifted with the ability to control their body temperatures; it wouldn't bother her after all.
She was oblivious to his being there. Over the years, Hiei had become just what his name implied: a flying shadow that moved quickly from one darkness to the next to conceal himself in whatever the black of night or the dismal of day provided. He was the master of disguise, and could blend in to a level that was almost virtually impossible for people that hadn't had years of practice at it.
From his roost in the height of a leafless tree, stripped of its summertime glory, he was just that: a veiled persona in a world that didn't belong to him, nor he to it. The soles of his boots wrapped with unnatural ease around the branch beneath him to keep him steady when by rights he should have all ready fallen. The skill with which he was perched was unimaginable; he could so easily slide a foot one way and hide in certain lighting, and all the while remain poised perfectly.
And so, when he moved his toes to curl around a different portion of the limb, disappearing from his twin's new vantage point, it was without surprise that he kept still. Not a moment later did she stumble and fall to the ground.
All too quickly did he switch over to his protective mode; no one had ever known it to exist, even though it was often shown. Instead, it was passed off as nothing more than another cocky facet to the jewel that was the Forbidden Child.
It was all too easy to define: one leg would move forward, a faint crease would come to the brows, and he would purse his lips in the faintest trace of a scowl. Most people regarded it as his normal appearance, and thought nothing of it when he looked at them in such a way; those who understood him better – being possibly only Kurama, at this point in time, unless Yusuke and Kuwabara were less shallow than they tried to seem – could account for much more than just that.
But he was in his solitude at the moment, his only companion, if that was what she could be called, lying on the ground where she had fallen, unfazed by her new position and contact with nature. He would have smirked at the simple fact had his mind not turned to her safety and well being.
Curses upon the damn workings of the frail mind.
In a single, sweeping arc, he leapt from his post in the tree, landing behind the sea-green haired girl almost silently. She pushed herself from the ground, turning on instinct, and caught sight of him.
She didn't know who he was beyond a name. Purposefully, Hiei had limited their contact to just that: nothing. The less she knew about him, the better off they would be. She didn't need to know that her long lost brother was a rogue and a felon, wanted in all the worlds for some crime or another. It was bad enough that he was what he was; for someone as innocent and naïve as she was, it would be too much of a weight to deal with his character on top of her own troubles.
"Hiei," she said in surprised greeting a moment later as she pushed herself into a kneeling position on the ground. "When did you get here?"
There was something in her voice, that same tone that betrayed how little of the world she knew, that seemed to drive a wrench between the two possible actions he could have taken, defining them all too well. He could either stay with her, make sure that nothing happened to the only person he fully cared about besides himself, or he could pass it off with a brief, 'Hn," and be done with things.
She stood after a moment and looked downward, noting a small tear in her kimono at her knees where a stick had come up through the snow to rip the fabric. She let out a vaguely mournful, "Oh," before casting her large, violet eyes up at him, waiting for an answer to her earlier question.
Hiei, however, did not respond right away. His blood-colored orbs took in everything that was his twin, all that defined Yukina. After a brief spell worth of time lost in his own thoughts, he blinked, coming back into focus with the world around him. "Hn," he scoffed, more gently than he would have had it been anyone else. Choosing to ignore the question that was presented to him moments before, he instead asked one of his own: "Are you okay?"
It was so unlike himself to bother with such sentimentalities that for a minute, the sea-green haired Koorime was taken aback. Sure, she didn't know him as well as the Reikai Tantei did, but over the course of the month that she had been around him, Yukina had come to understand that he rarely cared – or showed it, if he did – about those around him. Seeing as they weren't the closest, in her mind, at any rate, it was confusing, though welcomed.
She nodded her head, her bangs cascading in front of her eager eyes. The winds that swept between them quickly took care of that, however, and just as soon as they were there, they disappeared. "I'm fine," she added to her gesture, and she folded her hands in front of her as she so frequently did.
Hiei's hands sought out the folds of his cloak, finding the slits at the side and sliding them in as was custom. "You shouldn't be out here alone," he scolded her, turning his body to and angle away from her.
A silence settled between them, her eyes searching his face for some sigh of yielding, though it did not come. She blinked slowly, the corners of her lips drooping faintly before she said, "I can't stay inside any more. And I'm not going far, I was just – "
His red orbs fell upon her and she stopped. "You shouldn't be out here alone," he repeated, his lips a tight line across his face.
Yukina's head sunk, and her features dimmed. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have, I just…."
The put-out tone with which she spoke softened the three eyed demon's rocky exterior, if only slightly. Turning fully from her, he said simply, "Don't apologize. I'm not telling the others anything until I decide to go back, and if you're not there before me, you'll have to deal with an angry Kuwabara."
She wasn't quite sure how to take things; it hadn't been the response that she was expecting by a long shot, even if it was well received to a point. Her expression brightened again, an instant reaction taking over her before she inclined her head toward his back. "I will," she said with a bouncing tone, and turned to walk away. At the last moment, she annexed, "Thank you, Hiei," and left.
He always found comfort in the fact that nature concealed him; she found pleasure in the fact that it was so open.
As the shadows cloaked him once again, he resumed his role as the guardian. His perch in the leafless trees had become a second home that changed from location to location, day to day, though it always preserved the same idea: he was given a vantage point from which to watch over the few delights he had in the world. After all, he would always come back to her when she needed him.
A snowflake lazily drifted from the sky and landed on the tip of his nose.