She held her breath, trying not to weep. He was leaving - again - and this time he wouldn't be back for another twenty years or so. She knew, because he'd said ten, and after having been married for forty years, she knew Yusuke well enough to know what he meant.

She was getting old, she knew, and she wasn't as spry or pretty as she used to be. He had been wonderful in taking all that in his stride, even as her slap began losing its edge. Their children had grown up, becoming normal people, having normal children, and never knowing their father's heritage. Of course, they'd also had to be led to believe that he was dead, as the man never aged, anymore. He'd stopped once he'd hit twenty, and had never looked better.

But, of course, duty called, and so he had to go to the Demon World again for the first time in twenty years, because he was a council member. He had stopped going to the tournament on their third anniversary, but in exchange had agreed to help rule the world in such a way as to preserve the human race. For Keiko, and his children. She had hated that, had hated that he couldn't stay with her. Because she wasn't strong enough to protect herself.

"I'm sorry, Keiko," he said, knowing his wife well enough to know exactly what she was thinking. His sixth sense didn't help much, either.

"Oh, stop it," she said, slapping his arm in a way that might have hurt him had she been thirty years younger. He tugged gently on a dark gray lock of hair that had escaped her bun while she had swept the floor earlier. She knew what that meant: he didn't want to go. She leaned into him, fearing that she was too old for him, too rooted to one spot for his still-young demon life. For a moment, she even considered letting him go, and telling him never to come back. Maybe that would be easier.

Then the image of what life would have been like without him entered her mind. There would have been no one holding her hand as her son was being born, no one to be the pillar of strength she had needed to pull out of the pain and continue to push for life, hers and her child's. There would have been no one to tell her that she was too old to work and that she needed to grow out of her 'straight-A student' mode and retire. There would have been no one to pick her up and make her happy and whole again when she had a miscarriage. She would be long-dead, now, without him.

She wept.

"It's going to be okay, Keiko, I promise. I'll come back to you. I will." he promised into her hair, holding her gently as her increasingly-weak bones required him to.

"But what if I'm not here when you get back? What if-" Her suggestion was too much for him. She could not know that was what he was trying to avoid seeing. He had altered fate once, and it had worked out well for him. If there was one thing he had learned over the last fifty years, it was that most fortunate accidents are not so the second time around. He could not afford to alter what was meant to be for his own selfishness. He held her by her arms and looked her dead in the eye, forcing himself to say what he had to in order to comfort his most cherished loved one.

"You will be here when I come back. I will feel it in my gut when you're close to being gone, and I will come back no matter what I'm doing. Do you understand?" He had to make her believe this. This one, last lie. She leaned into him.

"Okay." He would never forgive himself.


Five years later, Keiko was found dead in her house at eleven AM, having fallen sometime in the night and hit her head. The internal bleeding had killed her within an hour.

The funeral was a small one. Only close family and friends were invited, the Kuwabara's being among them. Kazuma's five children were also present, and comforted the children of the deceased. Yusuke tried not to be seen, staying towards the back and holding his girlfriend's hand tightly. His chest ached. His non-existent heart broke. And he knew. His lie five years ago hadn't been believed. She had known. And she had made her decision: let him live. She had always been selfless.

"So, she's gone now?" Mayu spoke respectfully, reverently, and knew that her lover's heart would never be hers the way that it had been Keiko's. He squeezed her hand tighter, and nodded, ignoring the growing burning in his eyes. He could not mourn even here, for Mayu was and always would be Yomi's citizen, despite whoever she played at being in love with.

Kazuma turned around, feeling Yusuke's presence, and nodded, acknowledging them. He had known Yusuke's thoughts since before the premonition had hit, as he had always been the stronger psychic. He had, despite his initial disagreement, stuck by Yusuke's side and respected his decisions. The ways of demons, he was discovering, were impossible for humans to fathom and could not be explained to the small minds of humans. Even Yukina, who did not age any more that Yusuke himself, was still a mystery to him, even after their long, strong marriage. Yusuke had regretted that Kuwabara could never understand why Yusuke had forced himself to move on, even before Keiko's impending death; and so Kuwabara could not understand that his bringing Mayu was a form of respect, not mockery. Yukina, it seemed, understood, and placed a calming hand over Kuwabara's clenched fist as the mourners held vigil. At last, as the flow of people began slowing down, Yusuke let go of Mayu's hand, and stepped forward, kneeling before the picture of his late wife.

"My love, I could never speak freely with you. And yet, you were the only one who would listen. Please forgive my insincerity. I wish I could have been here for you, could have been with you to the last. I'm so sorry." The goddamn tears escaped his eyes. He rubbed them with the back of his fist, hoping that Mayu wouldn't understand the feeling of pain emanating from him and wouldn't report this to Yomi, though he knew she would. "I love you so much."

And that was it.

She was gone forever.


Later on, Yusuke found himself alone at his desk in the Demon World. Desert winds blew outside his window, but despite the impending storm, no one disturbed him. It had been three weeks since the funeral, and Yusuke suspected that Mayu's absence was due to her reporting to Yomi. It had stressed him almost as much as Keiko's death had distressed him. Then, with the finality that only the impulsive could have, he came to a surprisingly philosophical conclusion:

Love is much like a dream. Sometimes, it sours quickly. Sometimes, more slowly. It can make our heart race, or bring peaceful, soothing pleasure. It can reflect our mental state, our stress level, even our deepest flaws and trouble. Sometimes we strive to achieve it, and sometimes we don't realize we have it. Regardless of how we feel about it or what we want, however, in the end, it ends. It is gone. We wake up. Good morning. How are you, today?

Fine, he decided. Life is not over. I am fine.

So he said. And so he ruled.

Though he never took a permanent mate after her.