[Chapter 2 – Mother]
Botan slipped off her wet shoes and padded into the dark hallway that led into the living room. Life seemingly so routine, she had already expected her feet to stop walking just at the foot of the staircase for a moment to think about the unthinkable, but hoping that she may, today, get an answer. So with the false hope that she herself summoned, she abruptly turned around with a smile.
Taking a deep breath to hopefully make her voice carry through that lonely darkness, it still emerged a whisper. "I'm sorry I'm late, Mom. I had tennis practice today… Coach said that I'm getting really good though." She paused and looked at the still dark and silent room. "I'll cook dinner in a second, okay?"
Nothing; so dead.
That silence and darkness that continued to linger soon became overwhelming, and the keys she held suddenly dropped along with her purse at the foot of the staircase before she could even climb up to change and wash up. Following in quick succession with the two items that had impacted with the wooden floor, she soon followed, automatically curling herself up into a ball and gathering herself into her arms, rocking away, trying to imitate what a mother would do for her traumatized daughter. The tears poured out from her already swollen amethyst eyes, and ran down her cheeks to collect at the tip of her chin where they would drip out onto her uniform and flesh.
"God! …Damnit. Who am I kidding…?"
Silence.
"I… know you're not there… but maybe one day… magically you'll be back… to see me." She choked back a sob.
The walls and objects that she used to talk to out of her loneliness and want for someone didn't even offer a reply.
…simply because they couldn't.
"Mom… please come back…"
She continued to stay in that fetal position, rocking and crying in the corner of the foot of her staircase, completely forgetting that she was soaked from the rain.
…completely forgetting that there even was the sound of pitter-pattering of raindrops against her window.
**
There was a crash as a body skidded across the floor after a failed attempt at an air-flare.
Shuuichi, from where he sat on the counter on the other side of the room, winced as he saw the cardboard boxes come crashing down on his friend. "Ouch. That's definitely gotta hurt."
"Damn. I almost had it," Hiei growled as he threw the empty boxes off to another part of the room. He looked about the very small, square area and shook his head disapprovingly. "We seriously gotta find some other place to session. This room sucks."
"And we need linoleum," the redhead added matter-of-factly.
"Yeah. Remind me to hit Touya up later. He said he'd hook us up with one."
"Is that guy really thinking about joining Renegade?" Shuuichi asked as he hopped off the counter to stop the CD player and collect their items to leave.
"Yeah. His footwork's a little weak; the probability of us losing is pretty much ninety-nine percent now."
"With your air-flares, maybe more."
"Fuck you."
"Language."
"Shit-head."
Shuuichi chuckled. "Sessioning is over, I'm guessing?"
His response was a casual shrug. "If you don't have to see what's her face, I don't mind sessioning for longer, but if not, I'll cruise."
"Maya Kitajima," he corrected, making a face.
"What?"
"What's her face actually has a name, and it's Maya." Shuuichi picked up the main part of the stereo and the wires, leaving Hiei to deal with the speakers and the CD's. "Let's go."
"So you do have to see what's her face."
"It's Maya, damn you, and why are you making it sound like she's my girlfriend? She isn't."
"Your stalker then?"
Shuuichi rolled his eyes. "I'm thinking you really need to find yourself a girl."
"Screw you."
"Physically impossible."
**
The middle-aged woman paced back and forth against her luxurious surroundings, her manicured feet making temporary imprints in the soft, deep carpet of her husband's home. Her eyes knew perfectly well where the little marble table was with the vintage telephone, beckoning to her to come to it and dial a long-distance number to say hello to a little girl…
…who probably wasn't so little anymore.
Hypnotized, her slender hands and delicate, doll-like fingers trembled as it reached out to the glossy handle of the telephone, but as soon as flesh made contact with the glass-cold texture, a much greater part of her pulled her back like a magnet.
It was no use…Just like it had been the past ten years, try as hard as she might to be able to break the barrier between her and that phone, she never could.
There was a lot of personal shame that she felt, and she couldn't, wouldn't, bring herself to show her face to her sunshine again, nor offer a maternal voice as a comfort for her daughter. Not even once. She was being selfish, she would tell herself, but another part of her would also tell herself that she was being unselfish for saving the one thing she truly loved the shame of knowing that her mother was a stupid slut-whore, working her way to snag a man with enough money to keep herself and her daughter living a well-to-do life.
…I've accomplished that.
She desperately hoped that her daughter was faring well with the most that she could ever give her: money, her so-called "love in an envelope." To other mothers, that would have been such an impudent thought.
Still trembling from her initial "close encounter" with the telephone, the woman took a deep breath of air and then sauntered over to the left bedside table and pulled out a photo of a little blue-haired girl with a sunhat and a watermelon in her hand, face smothered with the red, juicy meat of the fruit. She smiled. It was the only photo of her bright-eyed baby that she was able to keep with her since she left the country to find herself a decent way of living.
Tch…Some decent way of living…
Placing it back into the side drawer, she entered her bathroom with her model-like grace and opened the medicine cabinet where she picked out a small, orange prescription bottle, her name written on a paper wrapped around it. Take 3 pills once daily to relieve stress, it said. With her palm on the cap, she pushed it down and twisted it open and popped a pill into her mouth. She shut her eyes tight, feeling the small tablet slide down her throat and begin to dissolve in the acidic juices of her stomach.
"Honey?"
"Yes?"
"It's time for dinner."
"I'll be right there."
"Okay."
She looked at her reflection, her amethyst eyes now devoid of their previous shine and ambition, her complexion marred with the burden of work and survival, her posture bent slightly from the weight of guilt on her back. But strangely enough, it was only she that could see all of these things. To everyone else, her husband, her butler, her maids, and maybe even her daughter if she were to see her, why, they all thought she was stunning.
In their eyes…"Hon?"
"Right. I'm coming," she said barely above a whisper. Looking at her reflection for the last time, she shook her head regretfully at the woman she thought she had become before turning and elaborately sweeping her way out of the room down to the dining room.
**
When she finally awoke, the rain outside had escalated into a well-choreographed storm; the type of storm which the girl was most definitely unaccustomed to. A whimper that she was unable to control escaped her lips as the loud boom of thunder banged against the windowpanes of her home and the streak of lightning flashed threateningly as a reflection in her eyes from outside of her window. She could not remember when the last time was that they had received such bad weather; all she knew was that she feared it most probably because she had been alone the last time it had happened.
She suddenly found herself thinking about her mother again, wishing that she were there. Shutting her eyes to block the shadows and vision of the boisterous rain, wind, and other stormy concoctions outside was something she didn't dare to do; it would only manage to draw mental images of her childhood that she'd rather not conjure up.
Dizzy, she grabbed onto the wooden handrail by the staircase to support her as she tried to haul her body to a standing position. Confused, afraid, and with no means of escape from the storm and from her nightmares in that house, she made up her mind to go and spend the night with a friend and neighbor, one that she knew wouldn't refuse her, but one she was ashamed to go and ask such a favor from.
"Please be home," she griped under her breath. Grabbing her keys, she tried to get to her front door without her aching and wobbly body collapse beneath her.
**
A knock on the door made him lose his balance, and he toppled to the ground from his inverted position. "Fuck! Hiei, I swear to God…" he flung open the door ready to verbally chew his buddy's head off, when he was cut short by his own voice as he saw a familiar mop of blue hair standing in his doorway.
"Botan… uhh, what are you doing here this late?"
"God," she began in a mumble, "this is turning out to be the ultimate day from hell, don't you think?"
"Because of the weather?"
"I thought maybe you'd want some company," she replied, ignoring his query.
"At two o' clock in the morning?" He leaned against the doorframe with a very amused smirk and watched her fidgeting form, her eyes cast on the ground. He knew it was bad hospitality on his part not to invite her into his house from the rain, but he was sure she'd survive a few seconds to explain, which, truly genius, she did.
"I couldn't sleep. There's so much noise out here, so I thought you'd be…" The crash of thunder sounded around the neighborhood, and her own lie was interrupted with a yelp that gave it all away.
Shuuichi laughed at the girl, who flew into his arms the split second she heard that giant boom. "I'd be?"
"…be awake too," she finished with a shudder, still clutching onto every part of his body that she could decently grasp.
"You do know that this counts as a hug, right? So don't expect one in class."
"Whatever," she replied carelessly, plodding towards the couch and flopping lazily into it. She shivered.
It was only then did he realize that her entire body was drenched. She was wet and her tiny frame was trembling, and from the cold or fear, he didn't exactly know. Maybe it was from both.
"I'll be right back. I'm gonna go and get you some clothes." He walked to a little device on the wall and punched something to allow heat to circulate in his house. "You like chocolate?"
"No."
"Okay, hot chocolate it is then."
"Shuuichi, you don't have to…"
"Oh, but I do. Trust me, I do. If Mom ever finds out that I let you catch hypothermia, that'll be my head on a silver platter served to your mom."
"Is she home?" She cowered when she heard another boom, causing the boy to chuckle inwardly.
"No, she's not. She's working graveyard shift."
"Oh."
"Yeah." He began to walk up the stairs. "Lemme go and grab some sweats for you."
"Can I come?"
"Sure."
The two teenagers walked up the stairs and through a spacious upper family room, which Botan thought seemed so much livelier, despite the fact that it was only she and Shuuichi in the house, in comparison to her home.
There was another crash of lightning, and Shuuichi nearly stumbled when the girl clung to his waist, her face pressed tight against his back in fear.
"You never told me that you were afraid of thunder."
"You never asked."
"Just thunder?"
"Storms in general, and for the record, this better stay between just the two of us."
"What if it doesn't?" He winced in pain as she pinched his arm. "Okay, okay. It's just between us."
"It better."
He chuckled, and though he could not see her face, he knew she was pouting. They entered his room, and he flipped the light-switch on. Botan had not been in that room since the 8th grade, and it felt simultaneously strange and comforting being in there again. She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge as Shuuichi began rummaging through a pinewood bureau for a shirt and a pair of sweats.
"Hey, Aya Matsuura's gone," she observed dryly, her eyes directed at the ceiling where there used to be a giant poster of the teen idol singer.
"She's been gone for a while actually. I found out it was all just an effect of hormones. She did have a nice ass though." He moved to the bed and placed the clothes and a towel on her lap.
"Are you telling me you're not affected by your hormones anymore?"
"No. There're just better things than posters that I can actually get a hold of these days. Plus, the real thing's always better."
Botan looked at him quizzically as
if to ask what he meant even though a part of her did not want him to
elaborate.
"Sex."
She rolled her eyes. "Dirty bastard."
"Name a girl who doesn't want me," he challenged.
"Me, for one."
"Well, you don't count. I've known you since we were seven. You're practically my sister."
"Whatever."
"Is that a way of telling me you want me too?" he teased.
"Get real."
He laughed. "You know where the bathroom is. I'll be downstairs in the kitchen. Just go down when you're done."
**
Botan trudged towards a stool in the kitchen's center food preparation table. There was already a mug of hot chocolate with little half-disintegrated marshmallows bobbing on the surface waiting for her. Her eyes looked about the spacious area trying to find her crude redheaded companion, and as if on cue, he emerged from a back room connected to the kitchen with a towel he was using to dry his hands with.
"Drink it while it's hot."
"You didn't have to do this, you know."
"I know, but like I said, the last thing I want is for my head to get chopped off, and I'm quite partial to it actually." He took a seat in front of her and watched as her fingers, hidden in the baggy sleeves of his shirt, tentatively touched the sides of the mug to test the heat around it. Deciding it wouldn't burn her, she brought the mug to her lips, and just when she was about to take a small sip, her eyes found his, and she placed the mug back on the table.
"What is it with you and staring at me while I drink? Is it a weird fetish of yours or something? God!"
The boy burst out laughing. "Sorry, do you want me to turn around while you drink?"
"You look older, but I swear to God! You've gotten less mature."
"I just find you cute when you drink. I can't help it," he replied innocently.
"And cows are green. You are a sick, sad excuse for a man."
He laughed some more. "I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't miss these conversations with you."
She disregarded his last comment and took the opportunity to take a sip of the warm substance while he was busy laughing. Botan wasn't ready to admit that she had missed him as her best friend, not the "5-minute-conversation-accompanied-by-a-daily-hug" kind of friend and that she equally missed such conversations, though the ones she remembered didn't include such crude vocabulary. Rather, they were limited to second-graders' vocabulary and a parallel mentality.
His laughter subsiding, his eyes wandered to his quiet companion, who had gone to making little circles on the counter with her index finger, not really paying him any mind. It was only then that he noticed how red and swollen her eyes were, a little puffy around the edges, and dark bags forming beneath them. Concern completely wiped away the face of mirth in a second.
"Hey, you were crying."
She snapped from her trance.
"What?"
"Something's bothering you."
"What are you talking about?"
"You're the worst liar in the world. Don't even try."
She paused before replying with a little more attitude than she had intended, "I don't wanna talk about it."
"Not talking about it is only gonna make it worse."
She glowered. "What would you know?"
"Look, I know we haven't been as close during high school as we were in middle school, but I haven't been your best friend for nothing. I know you. You can still trust me, or I'd like to think you'd have known that at least."
"Whatever," she sighed and shook her head, taking another sip of the cup, no longer caring whether or not he was looking. Finishing the final remnants of the liquid chocolate, she was about to get up to wash it when Shuuichi took the mug from her and walked to the kitchen sink to do it himself.
"If you're tired, you can crash in the guest room."
**
Shuuichi was in the middle of throwing on a shirt and a pair of boxers when his thoughts took a wild turn into debating whether or not he should go and check on Botan. He still felt ill at ease about what he found out earlier. What had upset her? What made her cry? Who made her cry? If it were a someone, they had better hope that he didn't find out. There was a lot of respect he had for the young woman mainly because she was able to put up with her life, growing up a lot faster than most of her peers. But at the same time, he also felt pity for her, and as a friend, he felt bound to always see to it that she'd be okay.
Trying not to dwell on those thoughts, but still quite irritated by them, he walked to the light-switch and turned it off then made for his comforters. He'd be sleeping in for sure tomorrow. It was already three in the morning, and the rain still didn't let up though the succession of thunder and lightning were now scattered and didn't come quite as often. Anyone could bet an appendage on their body that he wouldn't get up until a little past noon.
He was on the edge of complete slumber when he heard his door creak open and footsteps walking toward his bedside. He hadn't the time to wonder or even prop himself up to see who it was when he felt something, or rather someone, drop onto the empty space beside him.
"Botan?"
He stiffened as he felt her body snuggle against his, her curves pressing against his arm and sides, and her small hands clutching tightly, almost as if she were afraid of falling off the bed.
"I got scared," she mumbled into his shirt.
"Chicken-shit." He laughed when he felt the nails of her thumb and index finger squeeze a small piece of flesh on his arm. "I'm kidding."
"I hope you don't mind," she said a moment later, her voice sounding far away. She was probably falling asleep. "It's kinda like old times, y'know?"
He thought about that a little. No. Not really. During the old times, you didn't have breasts and hormones hadn't kicked in yet. What the hell are you doing!? He coughed and tried to sound casual. "Yeah… old times." Breasts? Shuuichi, you are losing it! When did you start thinking about Botan that way? Hell, when did you even notice she had breasts? She's like a sister! Like a sister! Sister! Damnit! A sister! His conscience was giving him the beat-down of the century.
"Shuuichi," she whispered tiredly.
"Yeah?"
"I miss my mom."
"Is that what's been bothering you?"
Her face against his arm was still, her chest moving evenly as she breathed, her hand no longer tense. She had fallen asleep.
Soon he forgot about his so-called "troubling" predicament and somehow drifted to where Botan probably was – back ten years in time. His body relaxed and the arm that Botan was clutching onto subconsciously wrapped itself protectively around her.
**
Author Notes:
Lots of notes here because I have a lot of explaining to do. ^^;
Firstly, I guess this chapter is dedicated to the Kurama/Botan shippers out there because of the ample amount of Shuuichi and Botan interaction going on here. It won't stay that way though. ^^; Sorry, but for there to be love octagons, I can't stick to one couple for the duration of the entire fic.
The Hiei/Botan interaction won't come until the 3rd or 4th installment of this fic. So Hiei/Botan shippers, don't be discouraged. For all intents and purposes of this fic, it was necessary to show the relationship between Shuuichi and Botan here because it's gonna show up again later in the fic. The same applies to other couplings. Hmm, this is exactly what I meant by complicated.
As for other alternative (but temporary) pairings, they'll show up in due time. =] The whole thing with Maya (I have nothing against her so don't misinterpret my calling her "what's-her-face" as bad) is just to set you up for her relationship with Hiei and Shuuichi later. And so as not to confuse you, this fic is mainly about Botan and her life issues. Other characters and her relationship with them (or their relationships with each other) are teasers, added problems, a factor of the so-called "drama" in Botan's life, and entertainment.
Final couples are a surprise. ^^ It'll keep going back and forth where romance is concerned, so you can bet this is gonna be long.
Also, I find it really difficult to think about Hiei and Shuuichi as break-dancers, but then I find portraying Yuusuke as a surfer just as absurd, but in this fic, he is. And if you think that's bad, just wait until you find out what Shizuru is. I won't say what exactly because giving away Yuusuke's roll was hard enough. So, you see, in my idiotic attempt to diversify my writing, I'm willing to think outside the bubble.
And Botan's mother. Mm… boy is she fu**ed up. I'd love to tell you more about that, but any more than what you've just read is going to give away the shocker (or at least I'm hoping that it will be shocking) to Botan's family/childhood, and what Shuuichi knows but keeps dormant in memory.
The first chapter was not dark so I don't know what the hell happened here. =\ My fingers have a mind of their own when they're typing sometimes. So I tried to lighten it up by adding in my odd sense of humor. Bear with it, please. Everything in this fic (surprisingly enough) has a purpose. It's new to me because I don't write fics like this. =\
Well, please read and review. Comments, suggestions, flames, etc. – they're all very welcome.
Any Kurama (Shuuichi) x Botan fans reading? Please visit and support this clique:
www . geocities . com / kb _ reflections
Disclaimers: Yuu Yuu Hakusho and its characters belong to Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV, Shounen Jump, etc. Don't sue. You are cool. =]
