A/N: I would like to say that I have nothing against Kurama or his mother. This is actually kind of a sequel to my fic "Whispers".

Disclaimer: I do not own YYH, characters, or any other related iteams.

A little boy with bright red hair sat in a tree, listening to the breeze. It told him of the park he was in, the people, and a small hint of the far-off city. He swung his legs in time with its song. Sakura blossoms drifted down from the branch he was perched upon, and from other trees just like the one he was in. The boy took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He enjoyed these trips to the park. It was a time to get away from everything else, and just relax with nature. He didn't hear the gentle footsteps of a person coming down the path.

"Shuichi! It's time to go home." Young Kurama opened his eyes and smiled down at his mother. He jumped down and ran into her open arms . . . then she disappeared.

Kurama woke up with his face wet with tears. With shaking hands he wiped them away. He didn't want to get out of bed. He didn't even want to wake up. He wanted to stay asleep forever. Sleep sounded so nice. He didn't need to go to school, or take care of his family. He didn't need to admit that she was gone. But he had his stepbrother and-father to think of. They needed him, he couldn't step out on them now. Reluctantly, he threw back the covers and walked out of his room.

His stepfather was in the kitchen, pouring himself some cereal. Kurama didn't say anything, nor did he. They didn't even make eye contact. Neither of them said much to the other anymore. The topic always seemed to turn to Shiori, and they couldn't handle that. It was too soon. Her death had happened too fast.

Kurama tried not to think about what had happened. Admitting that it had happened was the first step to saying "Yes, my mother is dead." He couldn't do that. He couldn't admit that she had died. He still wanted to believe that she was going to come home someday. There would be a time when he could admit it, but not now. He wanted to live with the illusions and lies just a little bit longer. Just a bit longer . . . how much could that hurt?

A thunking noise on the stairs signified that his stepbrother was awake. A few moments later the boy walked into the room. He didn't say anything. From the droplets of water on his cheeks it was apparent that he had been dreaming of Shiori as well. Kurama didn't ask what his dream had been about. They all probably dreamt about her, but there was a chance that one of them had dreamt about her death, not memories of her in life. Kurama didn't want to talk about that. He never wanted to talk about that.

He walked out of the house, head down, shoulders sagging. He saw no reason to walk any other way. A few people gave him odd and sympathetic looks, but he paid no heed. He didn't care what they thought of him, and he didn't want their pity. All he wanted was his mother.

People at school were treating him different. They talked to him in condescending ways, like he had lost all intelligence due to his mother's death. They were overly kind to him, and wouldn't stop talking. He wanted them all to shut up and go away. He didn't want or need them. He needed to grieve, and wanted to be alone. The teachers were the worst. Some of them would take him aside and make small talk, hoping to have him reveal his innermost thoughts. Some wouldn't bother with small talk and just straight up ask him about his mother. Others would ask him if he was alright, to which he always said "Yes." even though he felt like he was going to die of misery. He knew they were trying to help, but they were only annoying him. If he wanted to talk to them, he would do so, but he didn't.

There were times that he wanted to run away from them all and never come back. There were other times when he wished that he had simply died when the bounty hunter shot him and had never even met Shiori Minamino. Perhaps if he'd never come to Ningenkai things would have been different. Maybe she wouldn't have gotten sick, or her real child would have saved her on their own. Maybe she wouldn't have gone to the market that day. Maybe she would still be alive.

School was over. He got away from the building as fast as he could, not wanting to spend another moment there. He didn't watch where he was going; he just walked down the sidewalk, ignoring everyone around him. The crunch of glass beneath his feet made him look up. He was infront of the store where she had died. There were still police squads walking around the place, trying to find anything that they had missed in the past few days. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. This was where it had happened. This was where the maniacs had found Shiori. She'd done nothing, but they'd killed her anyway.

He turned away from the scene. He still didn't want to think about it. In his heart of hearts, his mother was still alive. She couldn't be dead. She had to be alive. He couldn't cope with her not being alive.

Finally, he made it to his home. He opened the door, and was greeted by the smell of blood. Pale and shaking, he ran into the living room. He froze in mid-stride. On the floor was his stepbrother, missing an arm, a leg, and part of his stomach. His stepfather was draped over the couch, both of his arms missing as well as his head. Kurama turned white. Memories began to flash before him. His mother smiling at him with her arms bleeding, his stepfather and mother in the airport just before their honeymoon, his mother's funeral, his mother's mangled body laying on a cold metal bed waiting to be identified.

His body went numb. He fell to his knees with a strangled cry. Tears fell freely out of his eyes. He didn't notice the man coming up behind him; he didn't hear the click of a gun. A shot rang out. Kurama fell down to the floor. His vision blurred. The room shifted in and out of focus. Coldness began to creep up his body, starting with his legs. He saw some one infront of him, his mother! She held out her arms to him.

"Mother," he choked out. Then he died, tears still streaming down his face.

No one had understood why Shuichi hadn't moved out of the way. It was obvious he could have, the man was no ninja. Why didn't he? There was one person in the world that knew, and Hiei wasn't telling those humans anything. He understood what had happened. Kurama hadn't died from a bullet. Kurama had died of heartbreak.