By Then It Will Be Morning

A/N: I couldn't take it anymore, had to do a one-shot with Genkai…she's the coolest! This is just a typical one-shot, so don't expect anything amazing…I wrote this at four in the morning, after about ten hours of Evanescence music, and eight cups of coffee….that explains the weirdness, ne?

Disclaimer: It is brought to my attention that I do not own Yuyu Hakusho, it is owned by the ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT YOSHIHIRO TOGASHI!!!

Memories…

It frightens me how quickly they fade away, almost like sand slipping through an hour glass. The lone clicks of a typewriter, chattering but no one hears.

It's almost as if time has stopped in the worst way.

Philosophers say the worst way to die is by burning, but it isn't. The worst way to die is to forget. Like a rapture in the wind.

The feeling that you will never again see his face…but what a fool I was.

Locking myself up here, in this compound. What was I escaping from? To numb the pain?

I did a great job, because I'm too numb to feel anything now…

Like I've become a desert in my heart.

I remember what he said to me that day, when nobody was watching, right before he lisped the words to his utmost desire.

He said to me, "You are a brilliant fighter, and beautiful girl, but you don't know what's real and what's not."

That day, Toguro looked at me with an expression of pity…why am I one to be pitied? Why am I one to be felt sorry for?

If anyone should receive pity, or relief, salvation…it is Toguro.

Not me.

Wallowing in self-pity and grief is no way to die…the best way…is just to shut your eyes.

God knows what lies behind…look forward into the kind doors of death and embrace your personal hell. That's what he did, didn't he?

A personal hell sounds nice now.

Maybe an empty void at the edge of the earth, contemplating how I've screwed up what could have been.

I remember what I thought, the hopelessly naïve dream, during my first hour of seclusion.

'I can save you Toguro. I'll come back and heal you from your madness.'

And what is so funny…is that after all this time, I haven't even healed my own madness. Even though I can't feel it.

I'm welcoming the upsurge of memories, the slide show of my life that I will see during death.

Then I'll finally remember his face.

Then I can finally close my eyes and hopefully die quietly.

Then I can welcome my death wholeheartedly, with arms wide open.

But by then it will be morning.

And I'll have forgotten.