Ch.2: A Veil On My Eyes
[I want to know why
You're letting this die
Without the blink of an eye]
Hiei's red eyes glared, then he spun heel and was gone.
I stared at the hole in the fabric of reality that he had once inhabited, that place that was right by my side, and felt my hand tremble. Carefully I washed the rest of the dishes, my hands more sure and more secure than they had ever been in a life-or-death crisis mission on the Urameshi Team. But gradually I felt as if the stack of plates would never end, that somehow the pearly bubbles in the sink had turned a sick gray instead of a glossy rainbow reflection, that somehow the oily water that stuck to my hands and the fermenting scent of lemon that soured in my senses were some sort of disease that only I could feel at the moment. They poked at my sorrow, my frustration and self-guilt, and then at my anger. Gradually my movements became angry; my scrubbing became furious as if I could rip that picture of Hiei off the back of my eyelids where it had been firmly pasted. Finally when I reached for another plate and found none, and seeing instead a stack of plates, pots and pans to dry, I grabbed the topmost plate and hurled it against the wall.
My pride was irked. How dare he treat me like some common whore! Had he forgotten his place?
But just as soon as it came, my anger disappeared. And my rational mind became to turn its wheels - there must have been some reason. But in the deepest depths of my heart, I analyzed that I was still trying to cling to any possible reason for his leaving when I was so happy, trying to see how he couldn't have been happy too. Was it possible that I had read him wrong, me, a thousand year old demon of experience in the ways of life?
Perhaps, then, we had never been more than very close friends. Certainly demons had been that way; we had simply been friends with benefits - in Makai, lovers were less close than the relationship that Hiei and I shared, they were simply just beings that took pleasure in each other's bodies whereas Hiei and I had actually trusted the other to guard the other's back. And still it didn't stop there; we genuinely enjoyed each other's company, even if there was never much to be said between us. I thought perhaps it were enough that I would lightly touch his shoulder once in a while to show I was still there for him, or put a soft hand to his cheek to show I still cared, or bring him food to eat when he was hurt, simply take care of him when he needed the relief from the stress of being heir to one of the three kingdoms of Makai. We were less lovers than friends; in fact, we had diminished all sexual activity to a trickle after that one day when I had seen myself in his eyes.
I knew, though, why he had dropped me so fast. He was frightened, scared almost witless of me now that he had seen I was not just a human, but also a very old demon. Even more so, he was afraid to give a heart to a formerly promiscuous youko infamous for bringing lovers and killing them in bed. Yes, it had been a rather consuming hobby in my past life - a lifetime that felt like an infinitely long time ago - and Kuronue had been the only one smart enough to compromise with me. And while my ningen side fiercely denied that it could possibly be inhabited by a bloodthirsty demon, I could feel no shame for what I had done. Somehow my human heart hadn't reflected that deeply on my demon heart yet.
I had lived here for fifteen years and I had changed. Was it possible that he couldn't tell whether or not I was pretending? Was he afraid that everything that I had said and everything that I had done had been a farce? Or, perhaps I thought with my youko mind, this was a test, a test to see to what lengths would I do to get him back. If that was the case, then he was more intuitive than I had previously judged. He had sensed my own inner turmoil, that balance I was trying to strike between lovers and friends, even before I had actually acknowledged it myself.
Realizing I had been staring blankly at the opposite wall for the last ten minutes, I bent slowly to pick up the pieces of white ceramic that littered the (once) clean kitchen tiles. Cradling the pieces in both hands, I threw one handful into the trash bin and then started to gather pieces on another section of the floor. As I picked up the second handful of large pieces, I felt a sudden surge of anger. Why would he be afraid of me? Hadn't I watched his back for so long now, making sure that nothing would happen to him? Was he afraid that I was preparing to use him someday, to gain his loyalty now and then kill him later? DID HE REALLY THINK THAT MY TIME IN THE HUMAN WORLD WOULD TEACH ME NOTHING?
Gradually I came to my senses through that red haze of anger, and saw that one of the glazed chips had gouged deeply into my hand. It didn't hurt very much, particularly because as a youko I had been used to hurting my hand on all sorts of traps that I encountered on my way to steal things, but somehow as I looked down at my bloody hand I felt as if I wanted to cry. There was just so much desolation, suddenly, that void in front of me and the repeating question in my head: how could I possibly live without Hiei when we had come so far?
My eyes blurred. With only my straining will, I pulled those tears back and vented my anger by throwing the second handful of plate pieces into the trash. As I lifted my hand instinctively to suck on it, a small hand caught mine and red eyes examined the cut expertly. After a moment Hiei looked up and answered in a monotone, "You should get that bandaged."
I had a sudden urge to strangle him, but I beat it down quickly. Sophisticated Shuiichi Minaminos did not freak out or get angry. I retrieved my hand with perhaps more force than I usually did, and questioned stiffly in return, "Where did you go?"
"Outside. Mukuro called me. Emergency on the mountain frontier. Apparently some half-civilized barbarians from the north where no one rules have decided to commit suicide."
I gave a chilly smile. "Oh yes, they won't last three minutes with you there."
He didn't seem to take the hint, but at least he kept silent. But I had the sneaking suspicion that he was laughing at me, mocking me. That caused me another flare of youko pride and anger. No one insulted the Youko Kurama
Rubbing my hand absently, I swept the pieces of broken dish into the dishpan and dumped it into the trash. Wiping the plates dry absently, I stared at the wall in avid fascination as my mind whirled with casual death threats and the occasional "What if Hiei was mine to torture right now?". After five minutes, he caught my hand and then ripped off the ward concealing his Jagan. He stared down at my hand like it was the most interesting specimen a biologist had ever come upon, and then began to tie with measured vagueness. Inwardly I snorted. You'd think it took Kuwabara two minutes to decide whether or not he would spare his coat to wrap me in it if I was mortally wounded. For Hiei to have taken five minutes to deliberate a cut from a shard of ceramic dish was laughable. Their IQs really DO have a large difference in their actions, don't they?, Youko Kurama laughed merrily at his own joke in my head.
When he was done, I tore my hand away and continued wiping dishes and staring into space as if nothing had happened. In fact, though, my senses were more alert on him than they had ever been. Why had he done that? He had obviously meant to cut ties with me in all places except for those that involved participation in the Urameshi Team. Those could not be helped. An irritated flare of anger burst out of me again, fueled by Youko Kurama's unstoppable pride. It couldn't possibly be that he pitied me, did he?
Well, certainly I had had better friends and better lovers than he had been. And while my human side would certainly suffer from the lack of compassion for Hiei, my youko side would only complain that I wouldn't get to torture him. But Kurama, that side of me that wasn't youko and wasn't human, was always the last voice of all to speak, and I had decided that I would just simply do as he asked.
I chanced a glance at him as I carried the dishes to the cupboard. He looked like he was furiously concentrating on something. Probably another message from Mukuro. To my surprise, after a moment he looked up almost shyly and asked, "Is there anything I can do around here?"
My human side clapped comically at the revival of manners in a fellow demon. Youko Kurama rolled his eyes, and me? I raised an eyebrow and answered negative in a curt way. He didn't look particularly crestfallen, but I could see self-disappointment in those eyes. Just what was wrong with him, couldn't he see that HE was the one who needed pity, not me? Perhaps he was doing it satisfy his own self-gratification, but certainly I didn't need to participate.
"Trying to escape Mukuro?", I said in a not-very-conversational manner.
He gave a disgruntled look in the general direction of the nearest gate to Makai and grumbled that Mukuro could take care of her own damned business. Well, one thing that we can agree on, I told myself, and raised another eyebrow at his answer. In all cases, I would have told him to use less foul language in the presence of other humans because humans looked down on those people who use swear words every other word. In this case, though, I kept my mouth tightly shut and concentrated on microwave-heating the box I had put in the refrigerator the day before. I could feel his expectation that I would say more than that, but I was determined to say nothing more. When the package was toasty, I wrapped it in several layers of cloth and then put it in the warmest lunchbox I had (one of those American ones), and then packed a bottle of water, a pair of chopsticks and a handkerchief. As I did this I could feel his annoyance turn to curiosity. Why in the world would I be packing a lunch so close to midnight?
I handed the lunchbox to him. He took it numbly. Suddenly I saw him understand. "You're sending me out already?", he said, and I could feel him try not to sound too desperately needy.
"Of course", I answered firmly, and ushered him to the door, picking up his extra bag that I'd packed from a few times before on the way to the door, full of clothes that he had brought from the times before but had forgotten to take back to Makai. He struggled to loosen my grip on his arm, but I held tight. Finally when we reached the door he wrenched himself out of my grasp and snarled, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
I clicked my tongue between my teeth and answered primly, "Your excuse about that emergency that Mukuro sent you sounds really serious. I figured it would be best if you went on your way now, to save her any unnecessary stress." I could see his eyes go clear up into confusion and disbelief that I would ever care for Mukuro's health - which I didn't, because she could take care of herself. "So, your lunch is packed for your way there and you have your spare clothes and you're all set to go!" I smiled as cheerfully (and falsely, all teeth) at him and opened the door.
[You say that you need time]
He looked suddenly uncomfortable, then his eyes seemed to reach a resolution, a final decision. "Kurama!", he blurted out suddenly, "I do. . .I swear I do l-lo.", he trailed off. "I just need more time to figure things out - I swear!"
[I say you'll be fine]
And suddenly I couldn't stop being angry. I could feel my face twist into a frightening frown. "Don't you dare give me that!", I hissed suddenly, feeling the youko in my veins more strongly than I had even at the Ankoku. "You'll be fine without me, yes you will, just run back there at Mukuro's whim now and obey her commands carefully! You'll make the good little heir and one day you'll be the good little ruler of all of Makai as well, won't you?" I ripped my hand through my hair and drew out a rose, then threw it in his face. "More time! I'll give you more time - all eternity to think about your mistake!"
Perhaps what he did was purely instinctive, but he opened his Jagan to look at me.
Immediately I slammed all mental wards up. He staggered back from the shock of being blocked, but not before I had pushed him out the door. I did one last thing before I slammed the wood block in his face - I unwound the ward he had used to tie up my hand and felt the sticky liquid began to flow again. Clenching the ward in my fist, I threw out my hand and splashed his Jagan with my blood.
/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / /
Author's notes:
Okay. So I haven't written this since 2001. But since I got so many reviews for it, I thought, "Why not? It was a good idea". So, here it is back again. I don't know when the next chapter will be up, though. . .I might lose inspiration for it again.
Andrea Weiling
[I want to know why
You're letting this die
Without the blink of an eye]
Hiei's red eyes glared, then he spun heel and was gone.
I stared at the hole in the fabric of reality that he had once inhabited, that place that was right by my side, and felt my hand tremble. Carefully I washed the rest of the dishes, my hands more sure and more secure than they had ever been in a life-or-death crisis mission on the Urameshi Team. But gradually I felt as if the stack of plates would never end, that somehow the pearly bubbles in the sink had turned a sick gray instead of a glossy rainbow reflection, that somehow the oily water that stuck to my hands and the fermenting scent of lemon that soured in my senses were some sort of disease that only I could feel at the moment. They poked at my sorrow, my frustration and self-guilt, and then at my anger. Gradually my movements became angry; my scrubbing became furious as if I could rip that picture of Hiei off the back of my eyelids where it had been firmly pasted. Finally when I reached for another plate and found none, and seeing instead a stack of plates, pots and pans to dry, I grabbed the topmost plate and hurled it against the wall.
My pride was irked. How dare he treat me like some common whore! Had he forgotten his place?
But just as soon as it came, my anger disappeared. And my rational mind became to turn its wheels - there must have been some reason. But in the deepest depths of my heart, I analyzed that I was still trying to cling to any possible reason for his leaving when I was so happy, trying to see how he couldn't have been happy too. Was it possible that I had read him wrong, me, a thousand year old demon of experience in the ways of life?
Perhaps, then, we had never been more than very close friends. Certainly demons had been that way; we had simply been friends with benefits - in Makai, lovers were less close than the relationship that Hiei and I shared, they were simply just beings that took pleasure in each other's bodies whereas Hiei and I had actually trusted the other to guard the other's back. And still it didn't stop there; we genuinely enjoyed each other's company, even if there was never much to be said between us. I thought perhaps it were enough that I would lightly touch his shoulder once in a while to show I was still there for him, or put a soft hand to his cheek to show I still cared, or bring him food to eat when he was hurt, simply take care of him when he needed the relief from the stress of being heir to one of the three kingdoms of Makai. We were less lovers than friends; in fact, we had diminished all sexual activity to a trickle after that one day when I had seen myself in his eyes.
I knew, though, why he had dropped me so fast. He was frightened, scared almost witless of me now that he had seen I was not just a human, but also a very old demon. Even more so, he was afraid to give a heart to a formerly promiscuous youko infamous for bringing lovers and killing them in bed. Yes, it had been a rather consuming hobby in my past life - a lifetime that felt like an infinitely long time ago - and Kuronue had been the only one smart enough to compromise with me. And while my ningen side fiercely denied that it could possibly be inhabited by a bloodthirsty demon, I could feel no shame for what I had done. Somehow my human heart hadn't reflected that deeply on my demon heart yet.
I had lived here for fifteen years and I had changed. Was it possible that he couldn't tell whether or not I was pretending? Was he afraid that everything that I had said and everything that I had done had been a farce? Or, perhaps I thought with my youko mind, this was a test, a test to see to what lengths would I do to get him back. If that was the case, then he was more intuitive than I had previously judged. He had sensed my own inner turmoil, that balance I was trying to strike between lovers and friends, even before I had actually acknowledged it myself.
Realizing I had been staring blankly at the opposite wall for the last ten minutes, I bent slowly to pick up the pieces of white ceramic that littered the (once) clean kitchen tiles. Cradling the pieces in both hands, I threw one handful into the trash bin and then started to gather pieces on another section of the floor. As I picked up the second handful of large pieces, I felt a sudden surge of anger. Why would he be afraid of me? Hadn't I watched his back for so long now, making sure that nothing would happen to him? Was he afraid that I was preparing to use him someday, to gain his loyalty now and then kill him later? DID HE REALLY THINK THAT MY TIME IN THE HUMAN WORLD WOULD TEACH ME NOTHING?
Gradually I came to my senses through that red haze of anger, and saw that one of the glazed chips had gouged deeply into my hand. It didn't hurt very much, particularly because as a youko I had been used to hurting my hand on all sorts of traps that I encountered on my way to steal things, but somehow as I looked down at my bloody hand I felt as if I wanted to cry. There was just so much desolation, suddenly, that void in front of me and the repeating question in my head: how could I possibly live without Hiei when we had come so far?
My eyes blurred. With only my straining will, I pulled those tears back and vented my anger by throwing the second handful of plate pieces into the trash. As I lifted my hand instinctively to suck on it, a small hand caught mine and red eyes examined the cut expertly. After a moment Hiei looked up and answered in a monotone, "You should get that bandaged."
I had a sudden urge to strangle him, but I beat it down quickly. Sophisticated Shuiichi Minaminos did not freak out or get angry. I retrieved my hand with perhaps more force than I usually did, and questioned stiffly in return, "Where did you go?"
"Outside. Mukuro called me. Emergency on the mountain frontier. Apparently some half-civilized barbarians from the north where no one rules have decided to commit suicide."
I gave a chilly smile. "Oh yes, they won't last three minutes with you there."
He didn't seem to take the hint, but at least he kept silent. But I had the sneaking suspicion that he was laughing at me, mocking me. That caused me another flare of youko pride and anger. No one insulted the Youko Kurama
Rubbing my hand absently, I swept the pieces of broken dish into the dishpan and dumped it into the trash. Wiping the plates dry absently, I stared at the wall in avid fascination as my mind whirled with casual death threats and the occasional "What if Hiei was mine to torture right now?". After five minutes, he caught my hand and then ripped off the ward concealing his Jagan. He stared down at my hand like it was the most interesting specimen a biologist had ever come upon, and then began to tie with measured vagueness. Inwardly I snorted. You'd think it took Kuwabara two minutes to decide whether or not he would spare his coat to wrap me in it if I was mortally wounded. For Hiei to have taken five minutes to deliberate a cut from a shard of ceramic dish was laughable. Their IQs really DO have a large difference in their actions, don't they?, Youko Kurama laughed merrily at his own joke in my head.
When he was done, I tore my hand away and continued wiping dishes and staring into space as if nothing had happened. In fact, though, my senses were more alert on him than they had ever been. Why had he done that? He had obviously meant to cut ties with me in all places except for those that involved participation in the Urameshi Team. Those could not be helped. An irritated flare of anger burst out of me again, fueled by Youko Kurama's unstoppable pride. It couldn't possibly be that he pitied me, did he?
Well, certainly I had had better friends and better lovers than he had been. And while my human side would certainly suffer from the lack of compassion for Hiei, my youko side would only complain that I wouldn't get to torture him. But Kurama, that side of me that wasn't youko and wasn't human, was always the last voice of all to speak, and I had decided that I would just simply do as he asked.
I chanced a glance at him as I carried the dishes to the cupboard. He looked like he was furiously concentrating on something. Probably another message from Mukuro. To my surprise, after a moment he looked up almost shyly and asked, "Is there anything I can do around here?"
My human side clapped comically at the revival of manners in a fellow demon. Youko Kurama rolled his eyes, and me? I raised an eyebrow and answered negative in a curt way. He didn't look particularly crestfallen, but I could see self-disappointment in those eyes. Just what was wrong with him, couldn't he see that HE was the one who needed pity, not me? Perhaps he was doing it satisfy his own self-gratification, but certainly I didn't need to participate.
"Trying to escape Mukuro?", I said in a not-very-conversational manner.
He gave a disgruntled look in the general direction of the nearest gate to Makai and grumbled that Mukuro could take care of her own damned business. Well, one thing that we can agree on, I told myself, and raised another eyebrow at his answer. In all cases, I would have told him to use less foul language in the presence of other humans because humans looked down on those people who use swear words every other word. In this case, though, I kept my mouth tightly shut and concentrated on microwave-heating the box I had put in the refrigerator the day before. I could feel his expectation that I would say more than that, but I was determined to say nothing more. When the package was toasty, I wrapped it in several layers of cloth and then put it in the warmest lunchbox I had (one of those American ones), and then packed a bottle of water, a pair of chopsticks and a handkerchief. As I did this I could feel his annoyance turn to curiosity. Why in the world would I be packing a lunch so close to midnight?
I handed the lunchbox to him. He took it numbly. Suddenly I saw him understand. "You're sending me out already?", he said, and I could feel him try not to sound too desperately needy.
"Of course", I answered firmly, and ushered him to the door, picking up his extra bag that I'd packed from a few times before on the way to the door, full of clothes that he had brought from the times before but had forgotten to take back to Makai. He struggled to loosen my grip on his arm, but I held tight. Finally when we reached the door he wrenched himself out of my grasp and snarled, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
I clicked my tongue between my teeth and answered primly, "Your excuse about that emergency that Mukuro sent you sounds really serious. I figured it would be best if you went on your way now, to save her any unnecessary stress." I could see his eyes go clear up into confusion and disbelief that I would ever care for Mukuro's health - which I didn't, because she could take care of herself. "So, your lunch is packed for your way there and you have your spare clothes and you're all set to go!" I smiled as cheerfully (and falsely, all teeth) at him and opened the door.
[You say that you need time]
He looked suddenly uncomfortable, then his eyes seemed to reach a resolution, a final decision. "Kurama!", he blurted out suddenly, "I do. . .I swear I do l-lo.", he trailed off. "I just need more time to figure things out - I swear!"
[I say you'll be fine]
And suddenly I couldn't stop being angry. I could feel my face twist into a frightening frown. "Don't you dare give me that!", I hissed suddenly, feeling the youko in my veins more strongly than I had even at the Ankoku. "You'll be fine without me, yes you will, just run back there at Mukuro's whim now and obey her commands carefully! You'll make the good little heir and one day you'll be the good little ruler of all of Makai as well, won't you?" I ripped my hand through my hair and drew out a rose, then threw it in his face. "More time! I'll give you more time - all eternity to think about your mistake!"
Perhaps what he did was purely instinctive, but he opened his Jagan to look at me.
Immediately I slammed all mental wards up. He staggered back from the shock of being blocked, but not before I had pushed him out the door. I did one last thing before I slammed the wood block in his face - I unwound the ward he had used to tie up my hand and felt the sticky liquid began to flow again. Clenching the ward in my fist, I threw out my hand and splashed his Jagan with my blood.
/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / /
Author's notes:
Okay. So I haven't written this since 2001. But since I got so many reviews for it, I thought, "Why not? It was a good idea". So, here it is back again. I don't know when the next chapter will be up, though. . .I might lose inspiration for it again.
Andrea Weiling