(((Dedication: Dedicated to Mama, Alex, and Jazzy for inspiring the idea that turned into this. Thank you—and how could you?
Summary:
When Kurama is hit by a drunk driver, Hiei must struggle to come to terms with reality... and say goodbye.
Disclaimer: I'd love to claim Hiei and Kurama, but I'd get sued... and I really don't want to get sued... so, I claim nothing.
Info: nonromantic (nonyaoi) oneshot; Hiei and Kurama; tragedy and drama
Author notes: This was originally a small piece that I wrote as a letter from myself to Alex and Jazzy. It seemed to fit what Hiei's feeling might be if Kurama were to die suddenly and leave him almost alone in the world...)))
Hiei's Farewells
By: Tjix
Damn you, Kurama.
Did you hear me? I'll say it again. Damn you.
Damn you for doing this to me. I was strong, you idiot. Cruel, certainly—heartless, maybe—but strong. I never had to put up with any of this stupidity, any of this useless emotion.
You told me about this feeling. We would be in your room, remember? And I would sit on the windowsill and think bloody thoughts. You would sit at your desk and pore over some new book or scroll. And then you would turn to me, in your "educate Hiei" mode, and you would say, "Listen to this, Hiei." Then you would read aloud to me. You would read me parts of books or scrolls that described the emotion, and I would listen with one ear, rolling my eyes and remarking on the fact that no one should ever get attached enough to experience such a thing. And you would give me that long sideways look with your infinite, riveting green eyes—that terrifyingly grieved look that made me cringe and look away.
Well, guess what, Kurama? Reading about it in a book just doesn't measure up. But I think you knew that.
Did you know this was going to happen? Is that why you tried to teach me about that emotion? Because you knew that soon I would be experiencing it, and then all of those damn descriptions would come back to me—and I would know that other people have felt the exact same thing—
So, you knew?
No. You couldn't have.
Your death was sudden. Unexpected. That damned human—he was inebriated, and his vehicle was weaving. It was late, dark—he didn't see you.
Kurama. Oh, Kurama.
I guess we were just lucky that the baka human my sister is so fond of sensed your spirit energy fading and came to "rescue" you. Not that he could do much. He just took you to Genkai's temple. Well, she couldn't do much, either.
You died just a few minutes after I arrived. Part of me was so relieved when I showed up, so proud of you for hanging on that long so that I would have time to see you. I know it was a battle.
Another part of me wished you hadn't. Then I wouldn't have had to feel your warm fingers cool in my hand. I wouldn't have had to see that sparkle in your eyes dim and vanish. I wouldn't have had to hear your heart stop beating. And I wouldn't have to see that gentle smile on your face, like you knew that I was screaming inside—like you were telling me, It's better this way.
They describe it in those books you read, Kurama, but reading about it could never come close to feeling it.
I have felt it, now.
Devastation.
There's no other word for it. Sorrow? Too mild. Anger? Not by itself. Loneliness? Not at first.
I've tried, Fox. I've tried to describe it in some way that others haven't yet. But there's a reason those phrases are cliché—because there's just no other way to say it.
Devastation.
Horror; vast, unimaginable horror—so huge you can't encompass it—so huge that it's ripping you apart. Wracking sobs that feel as though they are tearing out your insides. It's like... it's like... the tears will never stop. Never, ever, ever. There is nothing beyond the incredible agony. And you just want to crawl in a hole and die, because you're sick of hurting, sick of crying...
That's right, Fox. I cried for you. I cried for you.
And then—silence. Quiet. Your head has that cotton-in-the-ears dullness and the throbbing ache that accompany weeping. Occasional surges of tears, but mostly—silence. Emptiness. Numbness. As though your dying heart, in a final desperate act of self-preservation, detached you from your emotions. And your emotions are still off somewhere—not frozen, but still shattering and screaming and being torn apart—but, most of the time, you can ignore them. Until you're alone. And there's nothing to do but think...
God, Kurama, did you know?
You must have known. You knew I was going to have to face this. All those sidelong looks—that sorrow in your eyes—that was for me. You knew how hard it would be for me to accept it, when the time came...
Kurama.
They're not just words on a page anymore.
Suddenly, when I read those words—like you used to read them to me—I have a connection with the writer. This weird empathy. Because we're both feeling this pain, and...
Desolation.
Like a desert wasteland. There's nothing left for me here. You were my only friend. The others think they know me... but if they knew—if they could see—all the things I've done...
You knew. You saw. And despite everything, despite me, you loved me like I was your kid step-brother that you care about so much. You always treated me so tenderly, like I was something precious. Something to be protected, cared about. A broken child.
And—again, despite me—I opened to you. You coaxed me out of my protective armor. You enriched my life. Always, you had some clever comment or astute observation. Always, some new way of looking at things. Always, some peace to lend me.
And now you're dead.
That damn drunk driver.
My heart is gone, Kurama, splintered into countless pieces. My strength... gone with it.
I don't have the strength to say goodbye to you. I'm sorry.
You would be so disappointed in me. I am weak.
But, then—you were never disappointed in me at the same time that I was, or for the same reasons. You were disappointed in me when I did something reckless and cruel just to prove how strong I was. You were never disappointed when I was hurt... and I just didn't have the emotional energy to hide it. No, you were never ashamed of me then. You comforted me. You always told me that, in the end, it would be alright. And it always was—because you were there.
It's not alright anymore.
Nothing's alright...
It's never going to be okay. I'm sorry, Kurama. I'm sorry. I know you wouldn't want me to dwell on it like this. You told me that if this happened—if you died before I did, I mean—then I should move on. But I can't. I can't.
Damn you, Kurama, I still need you here! Why did you have to go? Damn you!
I hate you for doing this to me, Fox!
...I can't move on. But I must allow you to.
Goodbye, Kurama.