Title: To Love

Summary: 'I had a girl,' he remembers. Or he really didn't have her. She had him, more like it. (KuwabaraxYukina)

Notes: I personally think that this couple is the sweetest in the entire series. It's not my favorite, but it is the sweetest. And I adore Kuwabara. He gets a bad rap from the fandom, but he's probably the most honest, loyal and noble character in Yu Yu Hakusho. I find him admirable. And I more than support his love for Yukina.

Disclaimer: なん　ですか。れかりません　ですね。。。(Trans: "What? I don't understand..." Which I don't. But I would if I owned Yu Yu Hakusho. Hence, I don't own it.)

To Love

I had a girl, he remembers.

Or he didn't really have her. She had him, more like it.

He remembers seeing her face for the first time, obscured by shadows and overwrought with heavy emotion. It was right then, perhaps, that he had fallen in love with her, had fallen in love with her eyes and her hair, with her soft, sweet smile, had fallen in love with everything that one glance at her could tell him.

Love at first sight was a myth, he had been told. He knows this even now. He did not truly love her from that first instant. It was not possible. He had not known her.

He had loved an image. And it was pure love for the image of a beautiful, dainty girl. So unlike the girls at school, whose gazes passed over him in variations of indifference and fear. He did not pretend that he was attractive. It had never truly bothered him before.

But somehow he knew that she would be different. And in the flash of a second, when he saw her for the first time, he cared; he cared so much that it hurt, and he wished -- oh, he wished -- that he could be as attractive as the boys on the magazines, so that she could find him as handsome as he found her beautiful.

With that pain, however, came a realization, and he knew that she would not care. He doesn't remember how he knew this, but he did.

And he was right.

It was after they found her that he, already in love with a picture, fell in love with woman inside the image.

He fell in love with the way she smiled when she was embarrassed, and the way she blushed, with two dabs of rose-pink on her cheeks. He loved the way she would work, all soft voice and gentle hands, healing others with the innate power within her soul. He fell in love with her laugh, her voice, her heart and her soul.

A girl had me, he remembers, a smile growing on his lips as a warm feeling spread throughout his chest. The way she made him feel, no matter what she was doing, was staggering for a man would had never experienced love. But he didn't mind being a victim of love.

She had him. And he was more than willing to stay in her grasp forever, watching and loving and knowing that she was there.

And someday, maybe, he would have her as well.

We would have each other, he hopes.

And so he waits. He loves and he cares and he supports and he protects; she laughs and she heals and she helps and she stays; they talk and they share and they feel and they love.

And when he asks, much later, if he could have her like she had him, she laughs again, gentle and sweet and not in any way mocking.

You've always had me, she says.

And he knows it must be true, because she said it and she would never lie to him.

So he smiles and cheers and hugs and laughs.

And he loves.

Oh, how he loves.