Ouvalyrin
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Yaoi hints (more like bludgeons of a club), some profanity, really bad writing…the usual for me.
Archived: FF.Net, any place else, just ask
Contact Info: ouvalyrin@peoplepc.com
Disclaimer: Ouva doesn't own YYH. 'Nuff said.
Summary: Youkos cannot love—and neither can demons. And, no matter what one wants to believe, they never will.
* * *
All of them—the Reikai Tantei, that is—are certain that Hiei and I am a couple, and if one goes by human standards, I suppose that we are.
He shows up at my window, I give him his precious 'sweet snow' if I have any on hand—which I always do—and we talk, and plan things that neither of us can—or will—carry out while we're under Koenma's watchful eye. We fuck sometimes, but both of us understand that it means nothing, and that's all it ever will be.
I believe the human term is…ah, 'friends-with-benefits.' We are partners, and that's all we'll ever be.
I am not fully human, even though my body is. My mind is—and forever will be—that of Youko Kurama and nothing will ever change that. I…care for Shiori, because I owe her that at least, and she loves me, in that strange, fleeting way humans love, that I will never understand.
But I do not love her.
I am a demon, a youko, and in my relatively long life, I was one of the most heartless there were—are. Because I fled to the Ningenkai and took residence in the body of a dying child does not mean I am human, that I love, only that I have another role to play, another mask to create.
I would die for the ones I work with—the other Reikai Tantei—if it came down to it, but only because I have another body, and I am Youko Kurama and I will never die.
'Shuiichi' has never existed, never will exist, because I am Youko Kurama, and Shuiichi, and whatever names you wish to call me by.
And no matter how much one tries to deny it, it is the truth.
A thief must never lie to himself. He can to others, but never to himself. Pride goes before fall, the saying goes, and to lie is to have false pride. It's dangerous, doing that, and when he does, he believes that he is invincible, and doing so, he will die.
Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a youko. He was as beautiful as the Moon, with eyes like the Sun, and all who saw him fell under his spell. How could they not? He was a seductress, only male, and with hair that caught the stars in its shining silver strands, his skin the same color as snow and white roses, rarer than one would believe in the Makai, the temptation he presented was impossible to resist.
No one tried though.
Surrounded by people who fell prey to just one of his heart-stopping smiles, demons who praised his beauty and worshipped him for it, it was only natural that the youko grow vain.
Vanity and pride go together, and though he met another, with hair that weaved the night throughout it, who warned him against such folly, the youko ignored the advice.
The dark one and the youko became friends, then lovers, running through the night as thieves together. And the youko began to love, simply because the other was there, and they were friends, if one could call them such.
The youko and his lover ran laughing, jewels and ancient artifacts they had no use for clutched in their hands. It was perfect, and the two rejoiced in the excitement of the raid, feeling the blood pound through their veins, the steady rhythm of their feet against the ground.
It was just one shot—one lucky shot and the dark one fell to the ground, gasping, his lifeblood spilling out onto the earth. He had turned back, reaching for the pendant lying on the ground, somehow having slipped over his head.
One lucky shot.
That was all it took for the youko's world to crash down around him.
He lost everything that day, and at the same time, gained it all.
Only in death can one achieve true immortality…
I've never believed that. Foolish, vain youko that I am, I fear death with a strange intensity, but I long for it; in death, I will meet Kuronue once more.
I miss him. Kuronue. The Chimera who was the closest thing to friendship or love that I will ever feel. And it's strange, because at times, Hiei resembles him, and I can fool myself into believing that Kuronue is alive again…
…But it's not the same thing.
I don't know what I feel—felt—for Kuronue. Hiei is no easier to classify, but…I have him with me, and I wake up next to him in the morning sometimes, and that's enough for me.
I suppose that I'm growing sentimental now, living in the Ningenkai. It's not a good thing, as this body will grow old, and 'Shuiichi' will die, and the Youko shall return to the Makai.
I miss my life there. I was free, unconcerned about the trials of being a dutiful son, the perfect students…the Youko would have killed them all for daring to presume that they believe he was that.
Hiei is correct to call me an idiot fox—because that's what I am.
What kind of a youko would mourn?
* * *
I am the Forbidden Child. I wonder if there has been any before me, or if there will be any after me, why they forbade me, cursed me as the Forbidden Child, besides the obvious.
I wonder why I stay with the fox, why I put up with his strange quirks and mocking smiles. I am Hiei, and I need no one.
Yukina… Yukina is different, and I will not have her put in the same category as the fox.
The fox likes to laugh, likes to play tricks, likes to steal. I can see his eyes flit about when he walks into a room, already gauging the value and worth of the objects that surround him. I see his hands twitch as they long to take something, place it into his pocket, laugh over it with me, congratulate himself on a successful mission.
Hn. I like to think myself above those things, but I do enjoy watching him delight over a jewel, watch his lips curl up into a secretive little smile, face bathed in a glowing radiance.
But I don't love him—and I'll kill anyone who says I do, because I don't. I have the privilege to take a purely aesthetic appreciation in the way his hair falls like a river of blood down his shoulders, his eyes hard and cold as emeralds, do I not?
Hn. Stupid fox.
He's as vain as they come, and proud, the proudest demon I've ever had the misfortune to fight. He's a wonderful actor as well, knowing all the right things to do and all the right things to say, at the perfect times, and the others…well, they're humans. But I'd expected more from Yuusuke…
It's strange, how a well-placed smile and a few gentle comments can fool those humans so easily. Do they honestly believe that Kurama is not the Youko anymore? That he loves?
He is no different from what I am, just more beautiful, hiding his truest self under numerous layers. Destroy one mask, only to face another. It's frustrating, and I could almost sympathize.
In some ways, his masks are better than mine. The Reikai Tantei—they never forget that I am dangerous. But as for Kurama…
He is the one they confide in, the one they trust, the one who would do anything for all of them, no matter the cost.
He is the one who would abandon them all, if it came down to it. He cares for them, I suppose—why else would he fight long after his punishment was over? —But to go so far as to risk his life—both of his lives? I don't believe that he'd do that.
Kurama is the Youko, and everyone knows that youkos care for none but themselves.
* * *
I do not understand
This feeling you describe to me
Why is it so important to you?
How powerful could it be?
It's just a four-letter word
So tiny and so small
Yet it's caused even the mightiest
of nations to fall
* * *
Author's Note: Well…that was…strange, to say the least. I don't have anything against people writing Hiei and Kurama as two demons passionately in love, but somehow, I can't see Hiei being sweet or kind, or Kurama. It seems to me that people have a tendency to forget that cruelty was as much a part of Kurama as being a youko was, and Hiei strikes me as the type of person who once worked as a merc. Call me strange but…*shrug* Plus Kurama was the Youko and I just can't see the Youko understand love, or knowing what it is, or how it feels.
Reviews, if given, will make this author very happy.
Constructive Criticism, once again if given, will have this author crying in happiness.
Flames (and flamers), which will happen, cause this author to laugh hysterically. And I just know I'm going to get flames for this.
And get this in your head. This is a one-shot. No more chappies of this particular fic.