Untitled--Razel's Dreams
Summary: One-Shot;; When the outcome of a fight with a soul thief from Makai is death, how will the survivors react?
Rating: T--For death, mostly. Because some people consider death bad.
Song: Untitled--Simple Plan
So, this is pretty much one of my first fics ever on here, and I hope you enjoy it. What else can I say? Oh, right!
Disclaimer--Raz does not own YYH, its characters, setting, plot, or its creator. Even though she is currently searching for ways to put him under mind control.
I open my eyes;
I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light.
I can't remember how;
I can't remember why
I'm lying here tonight.
Emerald irises opened gradually, pupils growing smaller as the owner slowly took in the shock of an excess of white. White ceiling, white walls, floors, and beds. He sat up slowly, shaking crimson locks from his features, looking around with interest, maybe even surprise. And it was hard to surprise the kitsune. After all, foxes are clever creatures.
What exactly had happened? The youth racked his brain, trying to recall more precise details. What had gone on? He was forgetting something, wasn't he? And where—ah. At length, memories flooded back to him, gradually growing more and more vivid, etching themselves into his mind's eye. He was in a hospital, wasn't he? A small, cramped room, absent of all flowers, indicating that he had not been out long. At least, not enough for word to travel.
His memory drifted back to its last recollection, slowly reliving the events in slow motion. Koenma had sent the team on a mission to destroy a soul thief, one who was especially fond of the souls of young women. They had caught the foul, twelve-foot beast in a dark alley in Tokyo, near a part of town that one would prefer to stay out of…
"Ah, you're awake," a nurse declared, coming into the room. She was a small, round woman with short, dirty blonde curls framing her face and beady, pale blue eyes. "Minamino Shuichi, correct?" He nodded again, vaguely trying to decide how she knew his name. Did this mean that his friends, who had faced the twelve-foot-demon alongside him, had been released from the hospital? Had they even been in the hospital? Who else could have given his name?
A sorrowful expression crossed her face, and she seemed hesitant. "Yes, three. Urameshi Yusuke, Kuwabara Kazuma, and Jaganshi Hiei. Do you know them?" she asked slowly, and Kurama guessed that she would not tell him more than he needed to know, according to standard policies. A feeling of dread welled within him, and he nodded slowly. The woman looked down." Urameshi and Kuwabara were released with minor injuries. Urameshi sustained a broken wrist, and Kuwabara was treated for a gash above his left eye. Both are fine."
Kurama's heart began to thud madly as she paused. She hadn't mentioned Hiei… Surely, that didn't mean… "Jaganshi… he… he didn't make it," she informed him, struggling to keep her voice firm. She seemed to almost share his pain, though she had not known them personally. Kurama could only stare at her with those emerald eyes, understanding slowly dawning on him.
And I can't stand the pain.
And I can't make it go away.
No I can't stand the pain.
"No…" he whispered, showing more emotion than he was used to. After all, he was the calm, logical one, and emotions only weakened a stable state of mind. Tears formed in his eyes; this was certainly a feeling unfamiliar to him. He shook his head slowly, ignoring the jabbing pain that surged through him as he stood up. "NO!" he yelled desperately, as if by denying it, it would turn out to be a lie after all.
It felt like a thousand burning knives were sinking into his body, piercing him from everywhere. He felt like crying out, but his throat was choked; he could only gape at her, his chest heaving as he found himself struggling to breathe. "NO! It-it isn't true!" he screamed, frantic, and for once in his life, completely loosing it.
She shook her head and bit her bottom lip. "I'll leave you now, Mr. Minamino," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper, her high-heeled, white shoes clicking against the white marble flooring as she made a quick escape from the room, letting him be along with his grief.
How could this happen to me?
I've made my mistakes.
The crimson-haired teen shook his head again, disbelieving. "I could have done something!" he yelled into the empty room, not caring whether or not the sound of his agony penetrated the walls. The truth of his words sank in, slowly but surely as those foreign tears cascaded in two transparent rivers down his cheeks.
If he had been able to deliver better blows to the demon… If he had fought better… The soul thief had been taken down, but where had that left the fire apparition? How had he died, anyway? Questions bombarded his mind, making his thoughts swim. Did he die quickly, or was it painful. Did he bleed to death? For Kami's sake, what happened!
Got nowhere to
run.
The night goes on.
Before he knew it, Kurama was standing at the window, preparing to escape. His slim fingers fiddled with the lock, his frustration and horror hindering him all the while. "Dammit, open you son of a bitch!" he screamed, his voice a little shrill. It wasn't at all like him to use such language, but it wasn't at all like him to let his best friend die, either.
The lock wasn't listening anyway; it wouldn't budge. What was this, a suicidal ward? He stared out into the darkness outside, falling across the world like a black cloak. Streetlamps flickered on, casting tiny glows upon the streets below, where a few cars whizzed back and forth in blurs. It reminded him of Hiei's own speed.
As I'm fading away.
I'm sick of this life.
I just wanna scream:
How could this happen to me?
Kurama had never had any complaints of how his life had gone. Yes, it was hard sometimes. When you were a demon that had cheated death by possessing the embryo of an unborn child and were living a double life, things got complicated. But then, who didn't know trouble and sorrow now and again? Who didn't have difficult challenges blocking the path ahead of them? Suddenly, though, it all seemed unbearable to him.
His insides burned, but whether the pain was from actual physical injuries or emotional stress, he didn't know. And he didn't care. At the same time, there was this empty, hollow feeling inside of him. It was as though his existence was… empty. He had never felt so alone in the world. Yusuke and Kuwabara would be there for him, he knew, but it seemed like there was nothing they or anyone else would be able to do for him.
Everybody's screaming;
I try to make a sound but no one hears me.
The door swung open and said friends burst through. Yusuke's arm was wrapped in a cast, and Kuwabara's cut was wrapped with a white bandage winding all the way around his head. It was odd, really. Everything in this place was so dazzlingly white… So bright. But his heart, his soul, felt dark and cold. Distant. Untouchable.
Then again, maybe 'untouchable' wasn't the best word, since Hiei's passing was eating away at him like nothing had before. Maybe, to some extend, the Spirit Detectives had always thought themselves invincible. Three of them had, after all, cheated death at least once. And this was just a reminder that sometimes, when you cheated, you were caught.
He could hear them talking to him, and at the look on his face, they recoiled. They knew he knew. Words of comfort floated to his ears, and he wanted to say something. Preferably, something to make it all go away. But his throat was choked. No words came to his pale lips.
I'm slipping off the edge.
I'm hanging by a thread.
I wanna start this over again.
A sudden feeling of falling came over him as he collapsed onto the bed, holding his head in his hands, blood-red locks of hair spilling over his fingertips in a river of crimson, providing a curtain for his face. His heart was still hammering against his chest, creating a rhythmic hum as it continued to attempt to process this devastating new information.
Oh, what he wouldn't give to turn back time! There was so much he could have done. "Kurama…" Yusuke started, trailing off, unable to find words to console his friend. And Kurama knew why. There was nothing to say. He could have done more, dammit!
So I try to hold onto a time when nothing mattered.
And I can't explain what happened.
And I can't erase the things that I've done.
No I can't.
His memories floated back to him as his mind recalled the time he had shared with Hiei for the past years. There was never an instance when he had known true peace. The fire apparition had never known happiness, had he? He was an outcast since childhood; there was never that light, care-free feeling within him.
And Kurama hated himself for it. He hated himself for never being able to express how much he cared for his closest friend, and for never being able to relieve even a little bit of the pain that the demon had been burdened with for so long.
How could this happen to me?
I've made my mistakes.
Got nowhere to run.
There was no escaping the fact that Kurama was responsible. He felt it in his heart and soul. He should have been able to do something… anything. He had let Hiei die. And there was no changing what he had done. Or what he hadn't done. There was no changing his inability to, at the very least, easy any suffering. He hadn't even been able to say "Goodbye."
The night goes on
As I'm fading away.
Time seemed to tick by so slowly. So painfully slowly. It was as if he was doomed to suffer an eternity of miser and pain. And so he should; he deserved what he got. While the world would move on, his heart and soul would carry this burden for as long as he should live.
I'm sick of this life.
I just wanna scream:
How could this happen to me?
He wanted to just end it all. To turn his back on life and never look back. 'I'm a coward,' he thought bitterly, his emerald optics filling with self-hate. "Come on, man," Kuwabara started, voice trembling a little. "There was nothing any of us could do…" But Kurama knew it was a lie.
I've made my mistakes.
Got no where to run.
'Murderer,' his mind taunted him. He didn't dare disagree. He always was a murderer, anyway, considering his past, but this murder was different. The kitsune had done nothing, and so he was responsible for the untimely demise of his best friend. "Hiei…" he whispered, his gaze slowly shifting to Yusuke and Kuwabara, who had tears brimming in their eyes.
The night goes on
As I'm fading away.
He began to feel light-headed as his mind swam with confusion. Kurama's fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into the tender-looking flesh as he pounded it on the bed, as if that would make things better, as if it would make Hiei come back. There was no magical resurrection now; the loss was permanent. "Dammit, I could have done something!" he screamed yet again, not caring about how shocked the two boys near him seemed, or that he was growing redundant. He would not play the part of the calm, sensible one. He wouldn't pretend now, of all times, that he wasn't hurting.
I'm sick of this life.
I just wanna scream:
How could this happen to me?
So, yeah. Hope you liked it. I'd love to see some reviews here, and, hey, I'm in a good mood. Bring on the flames, if you like. I've always thought fire was pretty. Ciao.
