Rewritten June 2017. Originally written 2008.
7 Minutes In Heaven
By Jun-Ko
"I'll be stuck fixated on one star
When the world is crashing down."
- Fall Out Boy
What most people did not know was that - despite the fact Koenma was the junior Lord of the Dead, despite the fact that he was royalty and wanted for nothing, and despite the fact that after his father he had the highest acting role in all of Reikai - the cold truth was that Koenma himself would never enter heaven. The reason for this was simple, and something that he had always known: Gods do not have souls. And gods, for the most part, do not die.
Koenma had come to this painful revelation early on in his existence, and it had been only recently (during the last few centuries or so) that he had been able to effectively curb the gnawing feeling at his core. It was during all those long hours of passing judgement did he realize that the listlessness he felt was really the hopeless burden of envy. Koenma had mulled over this for centuries, unable to confide in anyone, for even the ferry guides and heavenly ogres grew old and frail given enough time. It was to Koenma's greatest relief that he was able to forget this misery with the start of his reikai tantei pet project, and afterwards with the help of his friends.
Then, one day, a familiar feeling stirred, something he had felt already twice before. It was not pain but it was a discomfort which served only to poke at that old and tender bruise. It was during a routine day when, hidden behind the 3-foot tall stacks of stamped and unstamped soul reports that the cold feeling which started at the back of his neck and traveled down the length of his spine shivered through him, accompanied by a vision of a smashed windshield and the blaring of a car horn. Koenma blinked, and would have grinned if the sadness and yearning had not already taken hold once more.
Koenma rose from his seat, suddenly agitated. The urgency which powered him through the days had all but waned in an instant. Outside of his office window he caught sight of Aki, a red-haired ferry guide in a black-and-gold kimono, rise through the air on her oar and disappear through the billowing candy clouds. Filling with both dread and hope, Koenma switched on his screen and honed in on a particular energy to confirm that his hunch had been right. It was.
He tried to place the sudden surge of emotions but recognized only the envy he had tried so hard to forget. It had been at least fifty years since he delegated the task of passing judgement on to George, deciding that he could no longer bear to see the hesitant and unknowing fear of so many anxious souls watching their lives be weighed, and then the ecstasy upon learning of their admission into paradise. Instead, Koenma had contented himself to completing the paperwork in his large, private office and kept clear of most everybody. But as he had done for Genkai and Atsuko, for Kuwabara, Shizuru, Keiko, and Kurama, there were a few souls he had insisted upon admitting himself. The others all knew this by now, and it was not long before he heard the buzzer to his office sounding, Aki's announcement to alert him of his friend's arrival.
Smoothing down the front of his robes Koenma leaned against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms in an effort to look nonchalant. Then he uncrossed them. He noticed his foot tapping out an impatient rhythm against the marble tile without his permission and recognized the overwhelming craving for the comfort of his old pacifier (a habit he had kicked about a hundred years ago). He was nervous, although he could not say why. When the door to his office opened Koenma could not ignore the blend of joy and despair that tightened his guts as a familiar figure stepped into the room.
Yusuke's grin was still the same, in that even after four hundred years it remained both dizzyingly arrogant and unexpectedly charming. There was still the same certain light in his eyes that even when seen from across the room brought back the weight and mirth of their past misadventures with a force Koenma tried to brace himself against and failed; his knees trembled slightly to see Yusuke looking at him from the doorway. He was the same but not the same somehow, and began to move towards Koenma with confident strides instead of the loping boy-walk he remembered. Rough hands, smirking mouth, the parlor of his skin...
Before Koenma could open his mouth to issue a greeting, Yusuke suddenly broke into a run to close the gap between them and swept him up into a full embrace, lifting Koenma with a joyful whoop which filled the room.
"Oh my god!" the man cried, squeezing him tightly. "Oh! My! God!"
"Yusuke!" Koenma began to laugh in spite of himself. He put his hands on Yusuke's shoulders as he was gently returned to the floor. They each took a step back to regard one another.
"How the hell have you been?" Yusuke asked, his dark eyes dancing with glee.
"I've been well, Yusuke. Thank you. And you?"
"Um... dead." The man let out a peal of laughter, making a show of bending forward and slapping his knee in a rather paternal fashion. "But other than that, I'm thrilled to see you again!" Koenma smiled back.
It was strange but far from unpleasant to see all the ways in which Yusuke had grown, obvious even in just a few minutes. Although he had been aware of the other man's age, Koenma had held on the impression of the young demon lord in his mind, just the way he had been the last time they saw each other. Yusuke had given him that same grin before disappearing into the darkness of the arena tunnel - running back into the world that would have gladly embraced him as lord and master, had Yusuke not chosen instead a life on Earth with Keiko. The short, spiked black hair Koenma remembered had grown elegantly long, swept back into a relaxed ponytail streaked with silver. He had grown much taller as well, and though his eyes were still wide with childish wonder they had grown pleasantly firmer with age and wisdom. Koenma tried not to stare at the slight wrinkles and laugh lines around Yusuke's mouth, and at the body of a happy man who had once been a prized fighter only to settle down in his later days.
"You look good," Koenma said, hoping that it sounded casual, insouciant.
"And I see you're finally out of diapers," Yusuke replied jokingly, taking a seat as Koenma gestured for him to do so.
Without missing a beat, he said, "And you've once again been killed by a speeding car."
"Ah. Hovercar now, actually," Yusuke laughed, guiltily rubbing the back of his neck. "Old habits and such. But I confess, I much prefer this to some kind of indignant, bed-ridden end. And this time it really wasn't my fault but I'm sure you know all about that."
"Yes, I do," Koenma nodded. "I'm happy to say that we've anticipated the possibility of your passing for a while now so I've have made sure there is more than enough room for you this time."
He did not think it was possible but somehow Yusuke's already-bright eyes brightened further. "Hey, that's great!" he said. "I really hoped you'd say that. I can't say I would have been thrilled to do another round of waiting as a ghost, that's for sure."
Koenma grinned and leaned against the edge of his desk again. "I thought as much."
"To tell you the truth," the other man continued, becoming uncharacteristically somber. "I'd been feeling lately that I may have overstayed my welcome on Earth. It's been great and all, getting to live longer than other people but after a while, it started to feel like something inside of me was beginning to strain. Besides, it's hard to keep coming up with reasons to tell your relatives why you look like you haven't aged a bit since they last saw you." He paused, and something dark momentarily clouded his expression. "And it never gets any easier when they leave you behind..."
A silence settled between them. For the first time in years, Koenma's office was quiet and still, as he tried to imagine the heartbreak weighing on his friend's heart to have outlived generation after generation of family in a single lifetime. Koenma was almost relieved to see that it was not a very different dilemma from his own, although he felt a twinge of guilt to think this, and to recall the faint bitterness that had gripped him back when he escorted Keiko to the gates centuries ago. On their walk together she appeared before him young and beautiful, her soul fresh and new unlike the body of the old woman she had left behind in Yusuke's arms. Koenma had been touched by her concern for her husband and children, saying that it did not matter where Koenma sent her as long as he promised to look out for them. It had been with a pang that he told her he would. He told her, filling with envy but gently, you'll see them again sooner than you think.
"Sorry," said Yusuke suddenly. "Here I am, seeing you again for the first time in forever and all I can do is bring down the room."
"Don't be, Yusuke," Koenma replied, dismissing his apology with a wave. "I can only imagine what a relief this must be for you. And I understand what you mean, better than you might think."
Yusuke gave him another grin, which shot straight through his chest. With a slight cough, Koenma asked, "With all that said and done, I want to know, do you feel like your years on Earth were good ones?"
The other man leaned back in his chair, propped an ankle on one knee and thoughtfully touched his mouth - that soft mouth with slightly chapped lips that Koenma could not help but stare at just like he used to. He turned away, willing the flush creeping up to his face away and pretended to glance out the window.
"I think so," Yusuke said, pensively, following his gaze. "Looking back now, I don't regret anything I've done, or the path I chose. I mean, look at where we started; I've had more opportunities than I deserved, at least more than I ever thought I'd have. That life, skipping school and getting into fights, being fourteen and my biggest worry being the lectures I got from teachers... Who knew that kid would end up here?" He gave a slight shake of his head, while Koenma could not help but smile at the memory of their first encounter. "I've made mistakes," Yusuke continued, "I know that. But for every bad decision I made, I've also tried to make up for with two good deeds. If I had stayed in the Makai, I really don't know if I would have still been able to say that." He looked up at Koenma. "It's taken some time but I've finally come to love every moment of my unfairly long life, and as much as it bums me out to leave my friends and relatives behind I'm really looking forward to what those gates have for me now."
Koenma watched Yusuke's gaze travel longingly out the window again, and fought back a sigh.
"Good answer, Yusuke," he said softly. "I see that your four hundred years weren't wasted. You've definitely gotten more mature."
Yusuke's expression shifted as he turned towards him, giving Koenma the impression of a burst of sunlight through dark clouds. "Same goes for you," he grinned.
This time Koenma could not fight the flush that warmed his face. He frowned slightly and coughed again.
"Yeah," he said. "After a thousand years I figured it was time to grow up a little." Koenma squirmed a little from embarrassment as he felt Yusuke's warm eyes move over his body.
"Anyway, I've sent word to Keiko. She's heard by now what happened to you and I know she'll be eagerly awaiting your arrival."
At the mention of his wife's name, Yusuke sat up in his chair. "That's great!" he laughed. "And what about the others? Good, I hope?"
"Oh yes," Koenma nodded, trying to regain his composure. "The whole team should be there, too. Everyone but Hiei, of course."
"How's the little imp?" Yusuke asked with a smirk.
"As good as can be, I suppose. My sources tell me that once Mukoro passed, he took over her lands just as she willed, and I haven't heard about any major upheavals or revolts so far -"
"I've missed you."
Koenma promptly fell silent. He looked at Yusuke curiously. It was the other man's turn to flush, and he seemed to be doing his best not to meet Koenma's gaze.
"Yusuke?"
"I should confess, while I'm here, that I've been looking forward to dying for a while." Yusuke stood and jammed his hands into his pockets nervously. "Not in that suicidal way, I mean," he said quickly, "but these last four hundred years, as long as they have been, were at the same time too quick to pass. Every time one of us died it always seemed too early, and every time, I thought, man, I can't wait to see them again." With a determined expression, Yusuke looked up. "And to see you again."
Another silence fell over the office as Koenma let the words sink in. Despite the earnest love from which they came, he could not help but feel their edges dig deeper into the old wound. This time, he could not keep the bitterness from spilling over and Koenma ducked his head quickly as the first trickle of wetness left his eyes. Although he had hoped he'd been quick enough and sly enough to hide it by pretending to pass a hand over his face, almost immediately he felt himself enclosed in the other man's embrace for the second time that day. Without fighting he fell into it and wrapped his own arms around Yusuke's broad back. With relief, he recognized the familiar solidness of muscle and bone he found there.
It hit Koenma hard, in the same way that love songs he'd heard in the human world always said it would: without warning, like lightning - Yusuke's scent, unchanged, thought it was clean and musky this time and not mixed with the odor of sweat and blood and battle. His breathing was calm and level, and so close, unlike the panicked gasps of air or the cries of pain he'd heard as Yusuke fought time and again through hordes of gods and demons. Wrapped up in the arms of his first friend, Koenma thought his heart - which he had always pictured as a hollow void in his chest filled with light - felt ready to burst.
"I've missed you, too."
Koenma wished he could have said it louder but his voice could only whisper.
It was with the same sadness that he realized he could have spent all of eternity in just that way. With Yusuke pressed up against him, this specific rhythm beating against the walls of their separate bodies, the emptiness which gnawed at the center of his being was suddenly inconsequential, trivial, a thing to be laughed at. He would have split the earth, fought as savagely as Yusuke had in their youth, for just a chance to stay that way but his thoughts were interrupted by the office buzzer again, and Aki's voice through the intercom to remind him of a later appointment.
Reluctantly he released Yusuke, and the two men stood nervously in front of each other, clearing their throats.
"I, uh... I guess I ought to send you on your way then," Koenma said, turning away quickly and pretending to busy himself with the already-organized papers on his desk. Yusuke watched him without speaking, as he began to look for his friend's file. With more effort than what was necessary Koenma located it, sitting at the top of his pile, brought up his seal and stamped Yusuke's admission into heaven.
"Okay!" Koenma said, with his best brand of false cheer. "You're all set."
Yusuke stood silhouetted against the window, regarding him silently, carefully, as though memorizing his face. This time, Koenma did not blush.
After a long moment, with a certain shyness that Koenma had never seen before, Yusuke asked, "Walk me there?"
"Of course," he replied, without hesitation.
Wordlessly, the two friends walked out of Koenma's ornate office, through a silk-curtained doorway, down a set of marble stairs that echoed their footfalls until they emerged beneath the bright Reikai sun. Above them, dozens of pretty ferry girls zipped by on oars, disappearing and reappearing through the clouds. Side by side and with the easiness of very old friends, Koenma and Yusuke took their time walking down a long path towards a monolithic gateway painted gold and ethereal symbols that seemed to have their own shimmer. Once there they stopped and waited, and watched the ancient and heavy doors creak open. Immediately the smell of the air around them changed, growing sweet and bright, like springtime flowers. Yusuke's eyes grew wide with delighted recognition, although Koenma himself could not see anything beyond the glimmering mist hovering on the threshold.
Yusuke took a deep, shaking breath, and looked and looked and looked, at the clouds and the guides flying by, and towards the gate where figures only he could see were waiting. While Yusuke savored the sight of his departure, Koenma desperately savored the sight of him, feeling like a man on the banks of a pure spring, dying of thirst. Chest pounding, he reached out told his friend's hand. Without hesitation, Yusuke held his back. When he turned to look at Koenma, he knew the expression on Yusuke's face perfectly mirrored his own.
"This is it then," he said uncertainly.
Koenma nodded. "Don't forget me," he asked, a soft, sad plea.
They looked at each other looking at each other; carefully committing to memory what would soon be this last shared glance. It was then that Yusuke leaned forward to touch Koenma's elegant, angular face with fingertips that had long-ago lost their hardness. So quickly and so softly, he brushed his rough lips against Koenma's unkissed mouth. Then he was gone.
Yusuke turned back for only a second after he crossed the gate and waved goodbye to the boy-god he was leaving behind for eternity.
Koenma watched Yusuke's retreating figure, at the years that melted away to reveal the familiar visage of the delinquent teenaged boy he had met for the first time, when Yusuke had died at fourteen after being hit by a car to save a child - a prelude to his lifetime of selfless acts. It was only then that the faint voices of old friends reached Koenma, drifting like ghosts just beyond the smoke. The sound of elation at the sight of their leader returning to them, the welcomed cool of night after a hot summer day.
Then the gates closed before Koenma, denying him once again more than one kind of heaven.