Equinox

by Jenncat

Pairings: Kurama/Hiei

Summary: Kurama muses about the seasons, and Hiei. This is in response to my own challenge on DarknessRose: how would the autumn equinox affect Kurama and Hiei?

Warning: some angst, and a lot of philosophizing. Nothing explicit here, although sex is mentioned briefly in passing, in a Kurama sort of way, I hope.

Disclaimer: Yu Yu Hakusho is owned by Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot, FUNimation, Viz, and possibly others, but not by me.

I can feel it in the air. Every year, it is the same. Death, brought on crisp, cool winds. They tell me it will grow back, come the spring. Life will begin anew, as part of a never ending cycle.

That's the problem. It NEVER ends.

I have lived far too long, it seems at times. I have lost track of all of the autumns I saw in my former life. The last number, in my mortal life, are clearer, but still they blur in my mind. I remember gazing at the pretty Ningenkai plants with fresh, youthful eyes for the first time. They were so bright, so... alive. I remember the first time I felt them die due to the passing of the year as well. My mother could not understand just why I was bawling my child eyes out, after she had reassured me that they would come back next year.

Don't they understand that doesn't help?

Do they think that excuse will help when their personal autumn comes, when they wither away into nothing? I know better. They will rail against the futility, and fight nature. They don't want to die. Why do they think plants don't feel the same way? I used to be able to block it out, before I allowed myself to have a heart and feel. Now... I can't.

He understands, sometimes. Maybe it's the ice in his nature that he buries deep inside. He knows how it ends in his soul, maybe. I'll run and hide to mourn the beginning of year's slow demise, away from all of the insensitvity of humanity. He always joins me. He never says a word. I think, if pressed, he would say that reassurances are pointless, or at least issue a grunt that conveys the same meaning. He would be right, but yet his mere presence is reassuring. Maybe it's the dichotomy in him. Fire and ice, summer and winter, life and death, balanced precariously on a sword tip. Of course, maybe it's just because he's quiet, and that's exactly what I need right now.

Inevitably, the sun's fading strength wanes away into darkness. Just as night's chill begins to overtake me, and I'm ready to find a warmer, more secluded den, he'll take my hand and lead me off deeper into the forest. Amidst the dead and dying leaves scattered on the forest ground, he'll drag me down to touch the ground and feel the life slipping away. Now he'll speak. "Do you feel it dying, or just falling into a deep sleep?" he'll ask, or something similar. "You're the one who should know, Fox. You're the one who died and found himself a new body."

"Like a new spring for myself?"

"Hn."

The words change, but he somehow always makes me stop, think, and focus on something else alongside the coming winter. He never makes me stop thinking about it completely, but that would be pointless, and he's never that. We'll end up lying together on the leaves, staring up at the trees, using his cloak as a makeshift blanket. Sometimes just his company is enough at this point. Sometimes he honors me with more than that, bringing my body and with that my soul back to life with his own, our seed mingling together almost like pollen in the spring. Just for a few moments, springtime comes early for me. The moment fades, but it's enough to help hold me together another year.

What will I do when his autumn finally comes, so many years in the future? Will he leave me when mine comes for this life, or will he wait for my spring? Will fall come early for us together, and bring with it an endless winter for our relationship, or will it bring endless springtimes instead? I don't know. Right now, all I can see is the autumn of now, until he comes to rush the cycle along.