Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from this fan fiction or Yu Yu
Hakusho itself.
AN: Angst and tragedy is one thing I can relate to…so what better to write
about for my first fan fiction.
Kurama sat, a glum look on his face. His crimson hair fell softly to his shoulders, making his tear-filled jade eyes even brighter. Contrary to his eyes, Kurama's thoughts were everything but bright. He wasn't able to shake himself from these dreams he kept having. It always started out as… nothing… he saw nothing, heard nothing and said nothing. He could only think. Then he felt cold hands upon his neck, slowly seizing his fragile neck, crushing it bit by bit. And all the while Kurama couldn't do anything. His whole body was paralyzed, and his neck stiffened, unable to scream. As he could breath no more, he finally opened his eyes, filling his head with every moment of his past, down to the last detail. It was as though his life as Youko Kurama flashing back at him. And when the visions were over in a matter of seconds, he heard the voice. The cold, creeping voice, that sounded so close yet so far, strange yet familiar. It would slowly mutter in an ancient language, barely audible… Then Kurama would finally wake, sweating all over, his hands caressing the spot on his neck. After every dream, he would look in the mirror, and two rouge handprints will never fail to exist, haunting Kurama outside of the dream…. Sitting on the soft blades of grass, Kurama delicately touched his neck, feeling the deep imprints of his haunting dreams.
Watching from afar, Hiei carefully eyed Kitsune. He was acting strange these days. Glaring at Kurama, Hiei soon turned away, confused. 'Hn… Baka Kitsune…' Hiei thought with an indifferent tone in his mind, quickly dismissing a silent question from his mind… for now. He fled, leaving Kurama alone in an instant.
Although noticing the Han Koorime's presence, Kurama chose to ignore the fire demon, for the trouble in his mind was a far more serious issue. Slowly getting up from the grassy field, Kurama started to his apartment, his head hurting terribly.
Kurama sat, a glum look on his face. His crimson hair fell softly to his shoulders, making his tear-filled jade eyes even brighter. Contrary to his eyes, Kurama's thoughts were everything but bright. He wasn't able to shake himself from these dreams he kept having. It always started out as… nothing… he saw nothing, heard nothing and said nothing. He could only think. Then he felt cold hands upon his neck, slowly seizing his fragile neck, crushing it bit by bit. And all the while Kurama couldn't do anything. His whole body was paralyzed, and his neck stiffened, unable to scream. As he could breath no more, he finally opened his eyes, filling his head with every moment of his past, down to the last detail. It was as though his life as Youko Kurama flashing back at him. And when the visions were over in a matter of seconds, he heard the voice. The cold, creeping voice, that sounded so close yet so far, strange yet familiar. It would slowly mutter in an ancient language, barely audible… Then Kurama would finally wake, sweating all over, his hands caressing the spot on his neck. After every dream, he would look in the mirror, and two rouge handprints will never fail to exist, haunting Kurama outside of the dream…. Sitting on the soft blades of grass, Kurama delicately touched his neck, feeling the deep imprints of his haunting dreams.
Watching from afar, Hiei carefully eyed Kitsune. He was acting strange these days. Glaring at Kurama, Hiei soon turned away, confused. 'Hn… Baka Kitsune…' Hiei thought with an indifferent tone in his mind, quickly dismissing a silent question from his mind… for now. He fled, leaving Kurama alone in an instant.
Although noticing the Han Koorime's presence, Kurama chose to ignore the fire demon, for the trouble in his mind was a far more serious issue. Slowly getting up from the grassy field, Kurama started to his apartment, his head hurting terribly.
