Stories
This was sparked by a single line, 'You can't always get a happy ending…"
Hiei had always hated stories.
They were pointless fabrications of reality; a waste of time and words.
He sat alone, at his favorite window in a tower that seemed to be the building's feeble attempt at reaching the sky. The view was indeed amazing; all of Makai seemed laid before his crimson eyes. The surrounding forests, so bright during the day, radiated with an oddly fascinating desolate beauty at night.
Hiei sat alone in the strange silence that falls just after a storm. Beautiful illusions, storms, always calm right before and always silent just after. Bloody garnet orbs drifted shut as Hiei quietly inhaled the fresh clean scent of the world after the rain and contemplated…stories.
He was a great leader. A powerful demon of Makai, heir to the throne of Mukuro, and he ran the kingdom well since her death. After years of struggling, of not feeling good enough, of fighting with himself, it seemed his story had the perfect ending. And yet…
When Hiei was others, he cold and controlled. His crimson eyes revealed nothing, expression allowing only a smirk or scowl. But, at times like this, when the world was silent, night being the only witness, his eyes would soften in thought. His shoulders would slouch, though his expression always remained blank. He looked…broken.
Remising about times that had passed, wondering about the only people he'd ever considered friends. Mostly, though, he thought about her.
She always looked the same in his mind. Her sky blue hair swept in a high ponytail, but long enough that it cascaded down her shoulders. Her light pink kimono always rustled slightly in some imaginary breeze, pale skin kissed by sunlight. On her lips she wore that dazzling smile that always made his breath hitch as amethyst orbs looked right through him, penetrating into some dark cavern of his soul that he'd forgotten was there…
He'd never treated her any differently than the rest of the group, but she'd always caught his eye. He'd never been even a little nice to her, but all he really wanted was to find out what it felt like to hold her, to be held by her…
He still thought about her constantly. Fantasies of times long passed that ended differently danced through his broken mind. Every so often, he'd convince himself that she was really there, hiding somewhere in the sky above him. He'd swear that he saw a flash of blue or catch a whiff of her familiar scent.
Each time he was disappointed and each time he cursed himself for being so weak. Still, he found small comfort in the fact that he was almost guaranteed a chance to see her again, even if it wouldn't be under ideal conditions.
A shadow slid through the trees, and he his senses were filled with the warm scent of vanilla. It was probably just Makai's nocturnal wildlife combining with his self-created illusions, but he liked to think she'd come to check on him.
He saw it now. Everything he would have done differently. All the things he'd wanted to say, but hadn't been able to swallow his pride enough to form the words. He would've done everything differently now…
But he knew that part of his story was over.
Slowly bloody garnet drifted closed as he softly whispered sweet words to the cheerful ferry girl that only he could see.
Because, eventually, all stories fade. And you didn't always get a happy ending.
But there was always room to pretend that you did.