Disclaimer: I don't own nothing, foo'!
Author's notes: Ummm, I think the only thing that really need to say is that I have no idea as to the growing patterns of Sakura trees, so I made one up because in my fanfiction, I am Mother Nature.
******* Cancer.
The word echoed around Kurama's head like the doctor had taken a stupid megaphone shouted it in his ear, and then stuffed cotton in them so that no sound waves could get in or out. But he knew that it had really been said very gently, in a soothing, understanding tone. Still, though, the sound kept bouncing around, having a field day with his mind and his heart, not to mention his memory.
Minamino Shiori had cancer of the stomach, and was expected to live for perhaps three more weeks. The growth was pretty slow for such a type of cancer, just slow enough to ensure that she suffered the most amount of pain possible. She would be able to get a tube that went directly into her stomach so at least she could live to her fullest time span by getting water and other nutrients into her body. Then, once she was used to the schedule of tube feedings, she would die.
Little Shuuichi began to bawl. Kurama couldn't blame him; the poor kid was young and human. Almost without thinking, the redhead reached out an arm and wrapped it around his stepbrother's shoulders. This caused the kid to bawl harder, and this time into his older brother's chest. The fox knew that the shirt would have to be washed, already a wet spot was forming and spreading, and his skin showed clearly through the white cloth. A thought entered the boy's mind. Maybe there was some Makai plant to help his mother? Perhaps some hopinage, which helped with stomach illnesses? No, it had nasty side effects on youkais, it would most certainly rain destruction on a fragile human body. Okay then, maybe good old reliable torknapi. Oh wait, that only worked on flesh wounds. Sheesh, why had that plant even struck him as slightly useable? He accounted it to three things: One, he was used to using it, he constantly had to heal Hiei's battle aftereffects. Two, his brain was, understandable, on the fritz, and three, his brother's uncontrollable sobbing was piercing through his calm outer shell and beginning to drive him mad.
With one quick glance in his mother's direction, he noticed a number of things. Firstly, she was crying, secondly, she was in pain. Any movement nowadays caused her to grimace in unbearable pain, so heaving of muscles in quiet, contained sobs was no exception. Third, Kurama's stepfather was wrapping Shiori in a hug, allowing her to cry into him. There were similar silver tears steaming unchecked down the man's scratchy, unshaved checks. And lastly, the kitsune noticed that the doctor seemed to be glancing at his watch, tapping his foot in a sort of impatient fashion. With a jolt, he realized that this doctor, this professional angel of death, must make this kind of announcement three times per day. Kurama's red, finely shaped eyebrow twitched. And now that bastard was perfectly ready to tell them that he had another appointment. The more he could fit in, the more money he could make, the sooner he could pay off his debt for that nice red Porsche that Kurama and his family had been admiring outside the hospital.
Suddenly, red hair tickled the back of his neck as he shook his head fiercely. No, this wasn't the doctor's fault. He was simply trying to survive in a world as shallow as this. Suddenly, the Makai was looking good to the fox. There, mothers and cancer and stepbrothers and bawling uncontrollably were baka ningen customs, ones that showed weakness. Kurama's body moved for him as his pushed his brother away and stood, turning towards the door. He crossed the room in two smooth strides, and reached towards the doorknob.
"Shuuichi-kun?" choked a voice behind the redhead. "Where are you going?"
"Nowhere, 'Kaasan," replied the fox. "Nowhere." Then he opened the door and walked out, a scent of roses seeming to arise in his wake.
*********
He found himself by his house, gazing up at the Sakura tree that he had played in as a ningen child. It was autumn, so the flowers were dying. Slowly, but surely, the pink was shriveling up into a pathetic brown, a sight that always made the fox sigh. Fall was the worst season. He could feel his friends the plants slowly losing their lives, dying but not crying out. All they did was rustle in the wind, creating what could be a romantic effect if Kurama was not so sensitive to the loss of life.
He lifted one foot and took a small step towards the tree. The grass made the quietest rustling noise, giving easily under the boy's weight. Another step, another rustle. Like whispers. The grass told him to go on, encouraged him and made him take another step. He was almost close enough to touch the bark of the tree, he wanted but didn't want to place his palm against the tree, memories dancing like the dying flowers above him. He lifted his right foot, about to move it foreword, but then let it drop, back where it had been before.
Wind rustled again, but this time it was black. And next thing the fox knew, his best friend was standing beside him. He did not acknowledge the presence, merely stepped foreword finally and placed his palm against the tree. With his soft voice, he told his friend, "I used to play here as a child. During the summer, this tree has the most beautiful flowers. And they smell unbelievable. It's just, the most perfect thing." A pause. Hiei did not move or speak. "My mother loves this tree. Sakura flowers are her favorite; she always used to tell me that. I would love to give her some, but they only grow on trees, during the very middle of summer. It would be inconspicuous of me to grow a tree and have Sakuras all year round. So I gave her roses."
Hiei stepped forward to stand next to his friend. He looked up at those eyes, those emerald green eyes that always sparkle in complete contentment, and noticed something. The sparkle was, of course, gone, which could mean only one thing. "What's wrong with her?" he asked simply.
"Something human. A human disease. Incurable, very painful, she couldn't possible go in a more miserable way." His voice was sharp, but without a trace of tears.
"Baka," responded Hiei immediately. Kurama looked at him for the first time. "Of course she could. You're still here, aren't you?" Shock spread across the kitsune's face, but Hiei looked towards the tree. His red eyes surveyed the branches, face emotionless as if he hadn't just said what he said. "It's easy to go against nature, Kurama. You of all people should know that." Then he was gone, and Kurama was staring at empty space.
***** Two weeks went by, and the redhead spent most of his time with his family, doing family things. The only difference was that there were a lot more tears, tension, and depression in the activities. Kurama never cried, though. He just politely did the chores that his mother used to do, he would cook dinner for his stepbrother and father, and he would prepare his mother's tube feedings. Shuuichi still cried quite a bit, and often wound up in his brother's room at night, which was fine by the fox because Hiei never dropped in any more. His words stuck to Kurama, though, and he tried to be with his mother as much as possible; he held her during movies, he smiled at her when she looked his way, he talked to her about school and his life, and in turn she remained, somewhat, what she used to be. Just weaker, and less able to be, in fact, normal.
Every day her family watched her condition worsen, and every day more flowers on her favorite tree died. It made Kurama sick that all he could do was stand by and watch. He was so ashamed with himself, he felt like he had failed to protect her. And what was worse, he couldn't even shed tears over it. He reflected on everything one night, lying on his bed with the window open, as it was abnormally hot for fall. Shuuichi was on the floor, snoring slightly, when Hiei came in. The little one did not stir, but his older brother sat bolt upright in bed. The Jaganshi glanced around, then allowed his eyes to meet Kurama's. They darted to the window, then back, and the fox nodded. Without a word, his friend jumped through the window, and Kurama, stepping over his brother, did the same.
Both boys landed gracefully on their feet outside the redhead's house, crunching some dead leaves and Sakura petals. The tree that had supplied those petals was right next to them, branches just about bare. The two friends regarded one another for a minute. Hiei was wearing his usual black trench coat, his arms in his pockets. Kurama was wearing a loose tank top and some thin, baggy pajama pants. His hair moved slightly in the breeze, the moonlight reflected in his crystal eyes. Sadness outlined all of his features. Hiei could only remember one time that he had seen his friend like this, and that was when his mother had been sick and they had stolen the artifacts from Koenma. He could hardly stop himself from letting out a little "Che." Baka ningens.
"How long?" muttered Hiei, not wanting to speak too harshly.
"They say maybe another week. I can feel that she's got less than that, though."
"Hn." This exchange seemed to satisfy Hiei for the moment, but then his blood red gaze turned to the tree.
Kurama, noticing where his friend's gaze had gone to, voiced his thoughts. "It's almost dead."
"It'll be back." Simple, reassuring, true on one aspect, false on another. Hiei wasn't too great with symbolism, but he was better than Kazuma for sure. If it stared him in the face, he would see it.
"I suppose." Kurama honestly wanted to talk to his friend. He wanted to cry out and ask why. He wanted to tell Hiei how much he hated having to sit here and watch her suffer, and at the same time ease his family's pain. He wished he could ask his friend for help, he wanted desperately to know why the stinging at the back of his eyes refused to materialize as tears. But all he could say was, "Nothing will be the same any more."
Something about Hiei's demeanor made it seem almost obvious that he understood. He walked up to his friend, looking up into his eyes, his face still a mask of stone. He withdrew one hand from his pocket and took one of Kurama's with it. Then he pressed something cold into the fox's palm. And the fox knew what it was without even looking at it. "I know." Hiei's comment traveled into Kurama's mind, seeming to unlock doors. "But who wants everything to always stay the same anyway?" He began to turn, and Kurama held the eternally cold gem in his hand tightly. When his back was to the redhead, Hiei finished, "The best we can do, Kurama, is to enjoy the normality before it ends." Then he flitted away.
Kurama looked at the small object in his hand. A black tear gem. Hiei had shed tears over him. Over his loss, over his life. And then he understood something. His friend's deep voice echoed in his head, "It's easy to go against nature, Kurama. You of all people should know that." A sorrowful smile made its way across his face. 'Some nature, Hiei, is unchangeable. But I'll change what I can.'
With that, he stepped up to the Sakura tree and once again placed his palm over it.
****** "'Kaasan! 'Kaasan, wake up! The Sakura tree, it.!" Shuuichi's excited voice rang through the house like a bell, and Kurama stepped out of his room just as his stepfather and mother did. Together, they went outside, and Shiori's knees nearly buckled when she saw what Shuuichi was talking about.
The Sakura tree was in full bloom, pink flower petals as colorful as if it was the middle of summer. The aroma was delightful, it filled the air around them and made them all inhale deeply. Well, all but Kurama. He just watched his mother, eyes sad but happy, a strange expression on his face. The tree looked so out of place amongst the brown and yellow of the fall, people walking by stopped to admire a thing of such beauty.
After maybe fifteen minutes, Shuuichi and his father went inside, and Shiori stepped closer to her son. He instinctively wrapped an arm around her. "Shuuichi-kun," she said softly, looking up at her son.
"Nani?" he replied, equally as soft.
"Thank you." She meant it, too. The kitsune could tell. However, he really had to see what she meant.
"For what, 'Kaasan?"
Shiori smiled weakly up at him. "Don't pull that innocent confusion thing on me, Shuuichi-kun, I know you had something to do with this." She gazed back at the tree, placid smile still in place. "Ever since you were a baby, you were special with plants. With the roses in the garden, and the nameless other plants that you get from Kami knows where in the middle of winter, and the always perfect roses that you give out on Valentine's Day. I may not be the smartest woman ever, but I'm not blissfully ignorant."
Understandably, the redhead began to get a little nervous. "Ah, 'Kaasan, you see, I can explain-"
"Iie, Shuuichi-kun, please don't. Whatever you're keeping from me, it's fine by me. So you make the flowers grow. That doesn't change the fact that you're still my Shuuichi-kun." After she finished, she seemed a little winded, so Kurama allowed her to lean further on him. Even as he did, a pang of guilt ran through him. Still her Shuuichi-kun, huh? A sigh escaped his lips. "It doesn't matter. Just. Just, thank you."
"You're welcome, 'Kaasan."
******** The funeral was very beautiful. It was decorated with lots of flowers and bright colors, and Sakuras from Kurama's tree were scattered over the casket. She looked very peaceful, her face was set in a relaxed look, one that was really only possible to make unless you were asleep.
Only close friends of all family members were invited, meaning that the only friends of Kurama's that were present were Yusuke, Kuwabara, Keiko and Kaito. The latter was there because he had grown very close to the fox after the whole experience with Sensui and had come over to his house a lot. He seemed thoroughly upset over the loss of Shiori, and his eyes seemed watery behind his thick black glasses. Kuwabara appeared upset, too, his cheerful demeanor was obviously missing under the gloomy circumstances. Yusuke was very upset as well, trying to keep his sorrow from turning to anger. He had worked so hard, ready to give his life for his friend's mother, and then suddenly, they lost her to a stupid disease. He wanted to punch something. Keiko was shedding silent tears. Not necessarily for Shiori, more for Kurama and his loss. All of them were dressed in suits and nice dresses, and Yusuke had not bothered to slick back his hair. Kurama took that as a sign or respect, not going through the trouble to hide who he was.
The fox's stepfather had glazed eyes, and Shuuichi's nose was running. They sat by the casket and bowed, paying respects and speaking to her. She did not, of course, answer. When Kurama stepped up to the casket, he surprised everyone by reaching into his long red hair and pulling out a rose. He lay it carefully in her hands, then stood and turned away.
Later, it started to rain. The guests were in the process of leaving when a wet Hiei entered the room, took off his shoes, and walked up to the coffin. He bowed lowly, then turned and left again. Kurama watched him, then followed him out. "Hiei!" he called, catching up to him under the shelter of a tree. Because Kurama had been running, he hadn't really gotten that wet. "Hiei," he said again, acknowledging and thanking the youkai.
"Hn. I only went in because I was getting wet," he muttered, not meeting his friend's eyes.
Kurama chuckled, but there was no real laughter behind it. "Right," he choked. He bowed his head, feeling a lump in the back of his throat, and before he knew it, a tear fell from his eye. It landed with a quiet 'plop' in Hiei's outstretched hand. Emerald green eyes followed the path of the arm and eventually met blood red ones.
"You have one of mine," he clenched his fist, closing it over the drop of water, "and now I have one of yours."
Finally, after two weeks and three days of bottled up emotion, Kurama sank to his knees and began to weep, sobs racking his entire body. He buried his face in his hands and cried some more, innumerable tears streaking down his face.
And while he waited for this storm to pass, Hiei sat down next to him, awkwardly placing a hand on his friend's back. He knew that this was what had to happen, and so until the fox was finished, the fire demon was not going anywhere. "Kurama," he said lightly, unsure if the kitsune would even hear him, "some nature isn't meant to be changed. But she was delighted with what you did."
Things would never be the same, Hiei decided. But who wants things to be the same all the time?
END.
Author's notes: Ummm, I think the only thing that really need to say is that I have no idea as to the growing patterns of Sakura trees, so I made one up because in my fanfiction, I am Mother Nature.
******* Cancer.
The word echoed around Kurama's head like the doctor had taken a stupid megaphone shouted it in his ear, and then stuffed cotton in them so that no sound waves could get in or out. But he knew that it had really been said very gently, in a soothing, understanding tone. Still, though, the sound kept bouncing around, having a field day with his mind and his heart, not to mention his memory.
Minamino Shiori had cancer of the stomach, and was expected to live for perhaps three more weeks. The growth was pretty slow for such a type of cancer, just slow enough to ensure that she suffered the most amount of pain possible. She would be able to get a tube that went directly into her stomach so at least she could live to her fullest time span by getting water and other nutrients into her body. Then, once she was used to the schedule of tube feedings, she would die.
Little Shuuichi began to bawl. Kurama couldn't blame him; the poor kid was young and human. Almost without thinking, the redhead reached out an arm and wrapped it around his stepbrother's shoulders. This caused the kid to bawl harder, and this time into his older brother's chest. The fox knew that the shirt would have to be washed, already a wet spot was forming and spreading, and his skin showed clearly through the white cloth. A thought entered the boy's mind. Maybe there was some Makai plant to help his mother? Perhaps some hopinage, which helped with stomach illnesses? No, it had nasty side effects on youkais, it would most certainly rain destruction on a fragile human body. Okay then, maybe good old reliable torknapi. Oh wait, that only worked on flesh wounds. Sheesh, why had that plant even struck him as slightly useable? He accounted it to three things: One, he was used to using it, he constantly had to heal Hiei's battle aftereffects. Two, his brain was, understandable, on the fritz, and three, his brother's uncontrollable sobbing was piercing through his calm outer shell and beginning to drive him mad.
With one quick glance in his mother's direction, he noticed a number of things. Firstly, she was crying, secondly, she was in pain. Any movement nowadays caused her to grimace in unbearable pain, so heaving of muscles in quiet, contained sobs was no exception. Third, Kurama's stepfather was wrapping Shiori in a hug, allowing her to cry into him. There were similar silver tears steaming unchecked down the man's scratchy, unshaved checks. And lastly, the kitsune noticed that the doctor seemed to be glancing at his watch, tapping his foot in a sort of impatient fashion. With a jolt, he realized that this doctor, this professional angel of death, must make this kind of announcement three times per day. Kurama's red, finely shaped eyebrow twitched. And now that bastard was perfectly ready to tell them that he had another appointment. The more he could fit in, the more money he could make, the sooner he could pay off his debt for that nice red Porsche that Kurama and his family had been admiring outside the hospital.
Suddenly, red hair tickled the back of his neck as he shook his head fiercely. No, this wasn't the doctor's fault. He was simply trying to survive in a world as shallow as this. Suddenly, the Makai was looking good to the fox. There, mothers and cancer and stepbrothers and bawling uncontrollably were baka ningen customs, ones that showed weakness. Kurama's body moved for him as his pushed his brother away and stood, turning towards the door. He crossed the room in two smooth strides, and reached towards the doorknob.
"Shuuichi-kun?" choked a voice behind the redhead. "Where are you going?"
"Nowhere, 'Kaasan," replied the fox. "Nowhere." Then he opened the door and walked out, a scent of roses seeming to arise in his wake.
*********
He found himself by his house, gazing up at the Sakura tree that he had played in as a ningen child. It was autumn, so the flowers were dying. Slowly, but surely, the pink was shriveling up into a pathetic brown, a sight that always made the fox sigh. Fall was the worst season. He could feel his friends the plants slowly losing their lives, dying but not crying out. All they did was rustle in the wind, creating what could be a romantic effect if Kurama was not so sensitive to the loss of life.
He lifted one foot and took a small step towards the tree. The grass made the quietest rustling noise, giving easily under the boy's weight. Another step, another rustle. Like whispers. The grass told him to go on, encouraged him and made him take another step. He was almost close enough to touch the bark of the tree, he wanted but didn't want to place his palm against the tree, memories dancing like the dying flowers above him. He lifted his right foot, about to move it foreword, but then let it drop, back where it had been before.
Wind rustled again, but this time it was black. And next thing the fox knew, his best friend was standing beside him. He did not acknowledge the presence, merely stepped foreword finally and placed his palm against the tree. With his soft voice, he told his friend, "I used to play here as a child. During the summer, this tree has the most beautiful flowers. And they smell unbelievable. It's just, the most perfect thing." A pause. Hiei did not move or speak. "My mother loves this tree. Sakura flowers are her favorite; she always used to tell me that. I would love to give her some, but they only grow on trees, during the very middle of summer. It would be inconspicuous of me to grow a tree and have Sakuras all year round. So I gave her roses."
Hiei stepped forward to stand next to his friend. He looked up at those eyes, those emerald green eyes that always sparkle in complete contentment, and noticed something. The sparkle was, of course, gone, which could mean only one thing. "What's wrong with her?" he asked simply.
"Something human. A human disease. Incurable, very painful, she couldn't possible go in a more miserable way." His voice was sharp, but without a trace of tears.
"Baka," responded Hiei immediately. Kurama looked at him for the first time. "Of course she could. You're still here, aren't you?" Shock spread across the kitsune's face, but Hiei looked towards the tree. His red eyes surveyed the branches, face emotionless as if he hadn't just said what he said. "It's easy to go against nature, Kurama. You of all people should know that." Then he was gone, and Kurama was staring at empty space.
***** Two weeks went by, and the redhead spent most of his time with his family, doing family things. The only difference was that there were a lot more tears, tension, and depression in the activities. Kurama never cried, though. He just politely did the chores that his mother used to do, he would cook dinner for his stepbrother and father, and he would prepare his mother's tube feedings. Shuuichi still cried quite a bit, and often wound up in his brother's room at night, which was fine by the fox because Hiei never dropped in any more. His words stuck to Kurama, though, and he tried to be with his mother as much as possible; he held her during movies, he smiled at her when she looked his way, he talked to her about school and his life, and in turn she remained, somewhat, what she used to be. Just weaker, and less able to be, in fact, normal.
Every day her family watched her condition worsen, and every day more flowers on her favorite tree died. It made Kurama sick that all he could do was stand by and watch. He was so ashamed with himself, he felt like he had failed to protect her. And what was worse, he couldn't even shed tears over it. He reflected on everything one night, lying on his bed with the window open, as it was abnormally hot for fall. Shuuichi was on the floor, snoring slightly, when Hiei came in. The little one did not stir, but his older brother sat bolt upright in bed. The Jaganshi glanced around, then allowed his eyes to meet Kurama's. They darted to the window, then back, and the fox nodded. Without a word, his friend jumped through the window, and Kurama, stepping over his brother, did the same.
Both boys landed gracefully on their feet outside the redhead's house, crunching some dead leaves and Sakura petals. The tree that had supplied those petals was right next to them, branches just about bare. The two friends regarded one another for a minute. Hiei was wearing his usual black trench coat, his arms in his pockets. Kurama was wearing a loose tank top and some thin, baggy pajama pants. His hair moved slightly in the breeze, the moonlight reflected in his crystal eyes. Sadness outlined all of his features. Hiei could only remember one time that he had seen his friend like this, and that was when his mother had been sick and they had stolen the artifacts from Koenma. He could hardly stop himself from letting out a little "Che." Baka ningens.
"How long?" muttered Hiei, not wanting to speak too harshly.
"They say maybe another week. I can feel that she's got less than that, though."
"Hn." This exchange seemed to satisfy Hiei for the moment, but then his blood red gaze turned to the tree.
Kurama, noticing where his friend's gaze had gone to, voiced his thoughts. "It's almost dead."
"It'll be back." Simple, reassuring, true on one aspect, false on another. Hiei wasn't too great with symbolism, but he was better than Kazuma for sure. If it stared him in the face, he would see it.
"I suppose." Kurama honestly wanted to talk to his friend. He wanted to cry out and ask why. He wanted to tell Hiei how much he hated having to sit here and watch her suffer, and at the same time ease his family's pain. He wished he could ask his friend for help, he wanted desperately to know why the stinging at the back of his eyes refused to materialize as tears. But all he could say was, "Nothing will be the same any more."
Something about Hiei's demeanor made it seem almost obvious that he understood. He walked up to his friend, looking up into his eyes, his face still a mask of stone. He withdrew one hand from his pocket and took one of Kurama's with it. Then he pressed something cold into the fox's palm. And the fox knew what it was without even looking at it. "I know." Hiei's comment traveled into Kurama's mind, seeming to unlock doors. "But who wants everything to always stay the same anyway?" He began to turn, and Kurama held the eternally cold gem in his hand tightly. When his back was to the redhead, Hiei finished, "The best we can do, Kurama, is to enjoy the normality before it ends." Then he flitted away.
Kurama looked at the small object in his hand. A black tear gem. Hiei had shed tears over him. Over his loss, over his life. And then he understood something. His friend's deep voice echoed in his head, "It's easy to go against nature, Kurama. You of all people should know that." A sorrowful smile made its way across his face. 'Some nature, Hiei, is unchangeable. But I'll change what I can.'
With that, he stepped up to the Sakura tree and once again placed his palm over it.
****** "'Kaasan! 'Kaasan, wake up! The Sakura tree, it.!" Shuuichi's excited voice rang through the house like a bell, and Kurama stepped out of his room just as his stepfather and mother did. Together, they went outside, and Shiori's knees nearly buckled when she saw what Shuuichi was talking about.
The Sakura tree was in full bloom, pink flower petals as colorful as if it was the middle of summer. The aroma was delightful, it filled the air around them and made them all inhale deeply. Well, all but Kurama. He just watched his mother, eyes sad but happy, a strange expression on his face. The tree looked so out of place amongst the brown and yellow of the fall, people walking by stopped to admire a thing of such beauty.
After maybe fifteen minutes, Shuuichi and his father went inside, and Shiori stepped closer to her son. He instinctively wrapped an arm around her. "Shuuichi-kun," she said softly, looking up at her son.
"Nani?" he replied, equally as soft.
"Thank you." She meant it, too. The kitsune could tell. However, he really had to see what she meant.
"For what, 'Kaasan?"
Shiori smiled weakly up at him. "Don't pull that innocent confusion thing on me, Shuuichi-kun, I know you had something to do with this." She gazed back at the tree, placid smile still in place. "Ever since you were a baby, you were special with plants. With the roses in the garden, and the nameless other plants that you get from Kami knows where in the middle of winter, and the always perfect roses that you give out on Valentine's Day. I may not be the smartest woman ever, but I'm not blissfully ignorant."
Understandably, the redhead began to get a little nervous. "Ah, 'Kaasan, you see, I can explain-"
"Iie, Shuuichi-kun, please don't. Whatever you're keeping from me, it's fine by me. So you make the flowers grow. That doesn't change the fact that you're still my Shuuichi-kun." After she finished, she seemed a little winded, so Kurama allowed her to lean further on him. Even as he did, a pang of guilt ran through him. Still her Shuuichi-kun, huh? A sigh escaped his lips. "It doesn't matter. Just. Just, thank you."
"You're welcome, 'Kaasan."
******** The funeral was very beautiful. It was decorated with lots of flowers and bright colors, and Sakuras from Kurama's tree were scattered over the casket. She looked very peaceful, her face was set in a relaxed look, one that was really only possible to make unless you were asleep.
Only close friends of all family members were invited, meaning that the only friends of Kurama's that were present were Yusuke, Kuwabara, Keiko and Kaito. The latter was there because he had grown very close to the fox after the whole experience with Sensui and had come over to his house a lot. He seemed thoroughly upset over the loss of Shiori, and his eyes seemed watery behind his thick black glasses. Kuwabara appeared upset, too, his cheerful demeanor was obviously missing under the gloomy circumstances. Yusuke was very upset as well, trying to keep his sorrow from turning to anger. He had worked so hard, ready to give his life for his friend's mother, and then suddenly, they lost her to a stupid disease. He wanted to punch something. Keiko was shedding silent tears. Not necessarily for Shiori, more for Kurama and his loss. All of them were dressed in suits and nice dresses, and Yusuke had not bothered to slick back his hair. Kurama took that as a sign or respect, not going through the trouble to hide who he was.
The fox's stepfather had glazed eyes, and Shuuichi's nose was running. They sat by the casket and bowed, paying respects and speaking to her. She did not, of course, answer. When Kurama stepped up to the casket, he surprised everyone by reaching into his long red hair and pulling out a rose. He lay it carefully in her hands, then stood and turned away.
Later, it started to rain. The guests were in the process of leaving when a wet Hiei entered the room, took off his shoes, and walked up to the coffin. He bowed lowly, then turned and left again. Kurama watched him, then followed him out. "Hiei!" he called, catching up to him under the shelter of a tree. Because Kurama had been running, he hadn't really gotten that wet. "Hiei," he said again, acknowledging and thanking the youkai.
"Hn. I only went in because I was getting wet," he muttered, not meeting his friend's eyes.
Kurama chuckled, but there was no real laughter behind it. "Right," he choked. He bowed his head, feeling a lump in the back of his throat, and before he knew it, a tear fell from his eye. It landed with a quiet 'plop' in Hiei's outstretched hand. Emerald green eyes followed the path of the arm and eventually met blood red ones.
"You have one of mine," he clenched his fist, closing it over the drop of water, "and now I have one of yours."
Finally, after two weeks and three days of bottled up emotion, Kurama sank to his knees and began to weep, sobs racking his entire body. He buried his face in his hands and cried some more, innumerable tears streaking down his face.
And while he waited for this storm to pass, Hiei sat down next to him, awkwardly placing a hand on his friend's back. He knew that this was what had to happen, and so until the fox was finished, the fire demon was not going anywhere. "Kurama," he said lightly, unsure if the kitsune would even hear him, "some nature isn't meant to be changed. But she was delighted with what you did."
Things would never be the same, Hiei decided. But who wants things to be the same all the time?
END.