This is the last chapter for winter, and next chapter will be spring. I actually change colour of the font while I type every season, too bad ff.net can't show it. There is only one complaint: not enough reviews! If you don't give more, I would discontinue the story. (this is not a threat)
Seasons Winter
January
The climate was slowly warming up. The snow would not be dominating much longer. At night, the white on the ground was reflected into the sky, making the normally cobalt sky light up to a slight pinkish colour, which the stars and moon couldn't even out shine. The snow decided to put on one last show.
Flurries of snow came showering down, along with the mild cool breeze. Some lucky ones got onto roofs or treetops, able to remain a little longer before they perish; others landed in muddy soil or murky puddles. The snowflakes danced as they descended down to Earth. It was their last flight, able to float freely in the air. They must all settle down someday. The peaceful Earth awaited them, and there was a special spot for each of the snowflake. Each one of them was unique.
He stretched out his arm to the outside world, feeling the time stimulation each snowflake brought onto his hand. The coolness felt right. It balanced with the burning inferno inside him. Fire raging with frustration, anxiety, fear, jealousy . . .
The snow kept coming, greater and greater in intensity. All you could see was a mass of white swirling in front of you. It seemed as if it would never stop. Nobody was outside. Nobody, except one, a black shadow that fleeted through the snow, as if he was one of them, yet the black he wore was so opposite. Where was he going? Was the snow pushing him along, or was the snow chasing after him?
He was frustrated, that after so long (well, actually just two weeks, but waiting could make a day seem like a year) Hiei still hadn't come to visit him. Anxious, that whether Hiei would ever come? After what happened . . .Could Hiei be mad at him for throwing snowballs? That seemed ridiculous, but not impossible. And the kiss . . . Could Hiei have been too tired and thought of him as someone else, and when he realized, became so disgusted that he won't even come back? That led to fear. But whom could Hiei have seen him as? Mukuro? Jealousy ran through him.
Emotions which he normally hid well now came toppling down and became all mixed up with one another, each vying to dominate, fighting among themselves. It made Kurama feel sick.
The shadow finally stopped. The snow fell around him like translucent drapes, half hiding him, holding him back.
He was too preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't sense anything, until ---
"Kurama, how long are you planning to let me wait? Move out of the way, I need to go in through the window!" Hiei said rather sarcastically. Kurama was startled, he looked up, flushed bright red and quickly stepped aside. All of his previous thoughts were swept clean, as the loud pounding of his heart overtook them all. Hiei was already in front of him.
He suddenly found the table extremely interesting. Silence, awkward silence filled the room, pressurizing him. Hwy didn't Hiei just say something?! Why couldn't he find something to say?! His mind was totally frozen.
After what seemed like an eon, Hiei finally spoke. "Um . . . about last time . . . I'm sorry."
Did he hear that right? Hiei actually apologized? Kurama blinked, twice, before responding, "You don't have to say sorry, the snowballs didn't hurt one bit." It wasn't that Kurama didn't understand what he meant, just that: first, he wanted to make Hiei less embarrassed; second, to see the agitated look on his face, as if wanting to say something but was totally blocked back by Kurama's previous reply; and third, he did't want the apology. Did Hiei feel that sorry for kissing him?
"It's not that, fox. I mean . . ." Kurama blinked, again. Did he just catch a faint blush? Wow, Hiei was full of surprises that day. Why not make it . . .better?
"I know what you mean," Kurama walked over and placed his hands on Hiei's shoulders before continuing, "It didn't hurt at all, really. I don't mind." he smiled cryptically, "In fact, I have to find some time to get back at you." He saw Hiei realize the double meaning in his words, and was delighted to see that blush again.
Hiei backed away, struggling out of the hands that bound him, and said, "I mean it, Kurama. Stop fooling around."
"Fine! Do you regret that much that you kissed me?!" He burst out, and even he himself was shocked, but there was no stopping now. "If you really are so sorry, then hurry back to Makai and save these apologies for Mukuro!"
Now it was Hiei turn to blink. "Mukuro? Why her? I don't have to go back. My holiday last for a year."
"Don't you like her? Didn't you thought to me as her that time? I mean . . . you gave her that gift too."
Hiei just stared at him with a mocking expression, which was slowly making him uncomfortable. "I'm . . . wrong?" he asked meekly. "'I thought that you would be smarter than this, fox. If I didn't give her the gift, I would end up getting killed by her sooner or later, so do you think I would like someone who may blast my heard off any second?"
Kurama took some to time to register what that meant. He said that he didn't like her, which means he didn't kiss Kurama because he saw the wrong things, which led to . . . Could he really think that way?
"Here, catch!" he broke out of his thoughts in time to see a seed lying towards him. He caught it swiftly, and saw that it was lightly pinkish, and so totally round that seemed unnatural. It seemed to glow, and would have easily be mistaken for a pearl if not for Kurama's vast knowledge about plants. But even so, he could not figure out what seed it was.
"What is this, Hiei? Where did you get it?"
"Someone gave it to me," he mumbled, lowering his head. Somehow, he seemed like he was lying. "It's my token of apology," his voice sank even lower, and so did his head. "You can throw it if you want."
Kurama fought the urge to suddenly go up and give him a hug. "You seem to prefer giving people plants as gifts, huh? I don't even know what plant this is. Guess there's only one way to find out." He put on a coat and prepared to leave his room, when Hiei said, "Wont it be faster through the window?"
He considered fore a moment. It would be sort of hard to explain to his mother about his "friend" whom she saw coming out of his room without seeing him go in. Also, how would he phrase his relationship with Hiei? Now that there was a new twist, which he still wasn't sure where it would head. He grabbed Hiei's hand and jumped out of the window.
Surprisingly, Hiei didn't struggle out of his grasp after they landed, so he kept his hold and led him into the backyard. All the roses he had planted were only dry branches now, half covered by the new snow, which was still gathering. He would make sure to let them bloom once the spring arrives. He found a spot where he still had not planted anything, and that was when he found that he forgot to bring a spade to dig a hole. Hiei could sure make him ignore many things.
"Here," Hiei said as he handed Kurama a spade he brought along.
"Your sure come prepared, don't you?" he teased as he accepted the spade and started digging.
"No, its' just that you are too easy to predict." He countered smoothly with a smirk. "Hey! What was that supposed to mean?!" Kurama demanded with a small pout, which looked a bit too cute, not that Hiei was complaining.
"Sometimes I do wonder if you really are the infamous youko Kurama," Hiei mused quietly, not quiet enough, though. "Sometimes I wonder too if you are that legendary Forbidden Child."
"Why?" Hiei asked and raised an eyebrow. "The same reason as to why you think of me to be unlike youko Kurama," he smiled sweetly, lifting his head up to see the exasperated expression on Hiei's face. Not really on his face, it was more like the sparkle in his eyes. If others had seen his expression, Kurama doubt they could spot any difference.
"Looks like we are even, then." He watched as Kurama carefully placed the seed in the hole he dug.
"Oh, you just found that out?" Kurama exclaimed in mock astonishment. Hiei sighed inwardly, he should have known he could never win over Kurama in teasing and annoying other people. Kurama always made him frustrated, but he could never bring himself to be really mad. "There! All done!" Kurama patted the soil affectionately, she seed now totally underground. "Let's see what it is!" a stream of energy poured out from the fox. Minutes passed, but nothing happened.
"Forget it, Kurama. This plant doesn't open this way. You can pump energy into it forever and nothing will happen."
"Since when do you know more about plants than I do? Well then, let's hear what the expert suggests." Frustration welled up in him again, but totally evaporated once he saw that sunny and all-too-friendly smile.
"Just leave it there to grow. The person who gave me the see told me this."
"But to grow, it must obtain energy from something, and I don't think the soil and sunlight works for it," Kurama said, and noticed Hiei lowering his head again. "I don't know, just wait and see," Hiei mumbled, and Kurama made a mental not to himself that Hiei was a really bad liar. And a cute one too.
"Come on, let's get back," Kurama said and took hold of Hiei's hand again. The blush returned, faint as it was, but something else caught his eyes also. A flash of green on the ground. He turned, and saw in the place where he had just planted the see, grew a fresh green sprout. It was only a weak and small sprout, but seemed so innocent, and its full emerald leaves gave the impression that it was happy. Kurama could sense the joy radiating from the plant. Suddenly, he realized what was the energy source for the seed . . .
He cast a furtive glance at Hiei, only to see the fire demon lowering his head yet again.
The show had reached its climax. Snowflakes falling and gathering together in the sky to create thin sheets of snow that fell like feathers, gently brushing against everything before landing. It seemed like heaven.
The moment froze, and everything stopped in this tracks except for the feathers that flew form the sky. They just stood there, caught in each other's eyes, unable to move away. Everything around them was covered in the fluffy, freshly fallen snow. In other words, nothing seemed to exist except for the two of them and the snow.
It was time for the show to end. Snowflakes fell apart, melted in the warmer winter air, and fell as tiny droplets of rain. The rain was not nearly as artistic as the snow, but nothing could last forever. As much as the snow hates to let go, it must. As the drizzle got bigger, almost all traces of the spectacular show moments ago were washed away. It was time for the rain to domain, marking the end of the winter.
Nobody took notice of the time. Then suddenly, they found themselves to be totally drenched. "It's raining . . ." Kurama said listlessly, breaking their connection and stared into the sky, now a shade of gray.
The rain washed away everything, every dirt on the road, every dust in the air, leaving everything fresh and clean, giving everything a new start. Sweeping away the snow and mud, it revealed several new spouts, new lives that started once the snow ended. The rain continued falling . . .cleaning . . . draining away . . .
"Come, let's go back before we get any wetter, if that's possible." Kurama said and held out his hand. Hiei took it, and this time, they went into the house through the front door, ready to face the things that lay behind it.
After the dirt had tainted the rainwater, it flows into the drain. The rain never seemed as pretty as the snow, and it never wanted to be. Being pretty meant that it had to stay pure, unable to touch anything. Bu the snow is the rain, and vice versa, so why did it have two forms?
The plants go their first drink of water from the rain, letting the rain run across them, washing off any mud that was the painful reminder of their days without sunlight, struggling in the darkness, not even knowing where they will end up. The snow buried them; the rain purified them. What more would they have to endure?
They didn't notice, but he seed they just planted had just grown a few centimeters taller.
They had to endure all four seasons.