A/N: Second fanfic on here. Whee! Anyways, I thought it'd be fun to take Yukina and make her a little more... cynical than usual. Enjoy.
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Sweet… Pure… Innocent…
Fake.
That's right. Fake.
I sigh and close my eyes as I turn my head. My reflection, too turns away. It's nighttime and the sky is dark. It could be considered almost total black outside, really.
Almost.
A thin layer of white has begun to build across the trees and temple steps, growing by the second as each small snowflake settles into its respectful place amongst the mass of frozen liquid.
Snow really isn't that special when you think about it. In the Human World, you say the word 'snow' and peoples' faces will automatically light up and a smile will appear right out-of-the-blue. In the human world snow is something pure and sacred. Something beautiful.
Such lies.
I know better.
Of course I know better. I've seen the horrid side of those frozen crystals. I'm part of it.
Snow is ice. And ice, of course, is not beautiful. Ice is cold, hard, and unwelcoming.
And yet, the humans fail to make the connection.
Humans like Kazuma Kuwabara.
Such an idiot.
He pours himself all over me, like some swooning child in a candy store.
He just doesn't get it.
Really, it can be quite exhausting sometimes, keeping my mask from simply crumbling apart. But, I manage.
I manage.
He thinks of me exactly how the others do. He thinks of me as sweet, pure, innocent Yukina-chan. He thinks of me as clueless.
Really, now, Kazuma. Who is the clueless one, I wonder?
I can't help but keep the spite from my spirit as I think of that.
Really, now.
But, it's all right. I don't mind. I can keep on using this clueless Yukina as an excuse. I can use her— just like I've been using everyone else.
I sigh again and open my eyes. Pressing my palm against the window pane, I feel the cold seep through the glass. It feels… good. That normal white outline that would appear around their hands does not surround mine; it does not grace me with its presence.
It does not grace me with its presence like it would for him.
I think of my brother. Yes, my brother. The Three-Eyed Demon. The Possessor of the Jagan. The Master of the Black Dragon. The Flying Shadow.
I think of Hiei.
Oh, no. He has not yet told me of our relationship. Honestly, I don't think he ever will. But that's all right. I know he's my brother—my twin brother. I've known for quite some time now. He still thinks I'm clues. He still thinks that he's lying to me.
In truth, I am the one doing the lying.
I wonder, though, sometimes. I wonder why he doesn't tell me. Is he perhaps ashamed? Ashamed of whom, then? Himself?
He has no reason to be.
In truth, I should be the one who is ashamed. In truth, I should be the one who fears my sibling's reaction. In truth, I, perhaps, am the evil one.
In truth, I am the evil one.
Deception, lies, a sickeningly-sweet façade.
That is who I am.
Perhaps, Hiei, I am a little envious of you.
You, the cold, distant, ever-watching guardian.
I know that that is a lie as well.
You are not cold. You are not uncaring. You are much more pure than I.
You hide behind that mask—much like I behind mine—afraid to get too close.
Why? Are you afraid, Hiei? Afraid that perhaps, your heart, your heart of fire will burn them? Scorch them?
Stupid brother.
Your fire is not harmful. It is not dangerous. Your fire is warm, comforting. Your fire—your heart-- is welcoming.
Not like mine.
If the only way for us to survive is to freeze our hearts over, then we don't deserve to live…
We don't deserve to live.