I have been wanting to write a Hiei/Botan fic for quite a while because I am in love with the pairing now. This idea just came to me so I wrote it up. It's short and only half-decent, but, then again, I only wrote it in a half-hour. Hopefully all of you reading this will not hold that against me and will be so very kind and REVIEW and tell me what they think because that is truly what I live off of.
Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Yuu Yuu Hakusho, including all characters even mentioned in the story. I claim no rights to the story whatsoever (I do not even own a single manga or plushie) and wrote this purely as entertainment for myself and any readers.
A Candle in the Window
He left years ago, pushing all of us behind him, pushing aside all of the time we spent together as if it meant next to nothing.
He never once came back, not even when he was released from his duties as Mukuro's heir.
He always complained about humans, working with them, helping them, but now he spends his time saving them. He would rather patrol the borders between the Makai and Ningenkai than return to us – to me.
He left years ago and the only news any of us have heard of him was when Keiko and Shizuru found that cartoon drawing of him in the tabloid.
I'm not the only one who misses him, I know that. Kurama lost a close friend and ally and Yusuke lost a true rival and equal. Even Kuwabara misses him, I can tell, because he seems so lost without someone to tease – even if he never could best him.
Yukina misses him, too. She seems so forlorn now. When I arrived at the temple today, she asked for him, if I had seen him or heard anything from him or of him. I had to tell her no and the fact brought pain to both of us. It is ironic; she seems more preoccupied with finding our long lost friend now than she is finding her brother. If only she would realize the two are one in the same.
In earlier times, when loved ones would leave for an uncertain amount of time, or if the loved one would be returning at night, the person at home would place a candle in the window to light the way.
I remember how many souls I have ferried, people just looking for that candle, as I place a lit match to the wick. It's the window he would always sit in. Hopefully he will see it tonight or else I will have to find another candle to replace the dwindling stub of wax left.
It would not be the first time – candles do not last forever after all; but until he returns I will keep the candle lit and pray for his safe return. Until he comes home, I will wait for him, right by the candle, always tending to the flame because I will never let it die.
It is late, I should be asleep like the others, but I cannot leave my post. What if the flame dies when he comes looking for it? I must keep the way lit. I will keep the way lit. I will not fail on him, not like so many other people he has known.
He tried so hard to keep us away. He tried so hard to remain the Forbidden Child he had been labeled as, but the home he never knew he had is waiting for him, has been waiting for him, will always be waiting for him.
The candle grows dim, the wax is almost gone. Should I look for another candle and risk this one's death? Or should I remain here and tend to it, try to keep it alive until dawn?
Who am I kidding? I cannot leave. Even if he barely passes by, I have to be here, I have to watch. Because if he were to even just fly by, a blur in the shadows, it would still be enough. It would tell me he remembers us, it would tell me he can find his way home.
A hand reaches over and snuffs the dying light out; dread fills my entire being. What will I do now? How will he find his way home?
"It's not the candle that lit my way back, Botan."
His voice holds the usual harsh and uncaring tone it always has but it still brings tears to my eyes. "Hiei?"
"It was never the flickering candle," he replies more softly, a faint smile appearing on a calm face that I could barely make out on the window's reflection. He rests his hand on my shoulder and I can feel the tingles run down my spine.
He never had to say it, but I knew what he meant all the same. A living flame, a flame deep within himself that would never fade or die led him back.
"Tadaima."
I smile as my tears finally begin to fall, "Okaeri."
Okay! Dictionary time!
Tadaima: I'm home
Okaeri: a response to Tadaima, kind of a welcome home.