Title: Of Love and Power

Authoress: Matty Dreamer

Beta'd By: Ceromorrigan

Rating: PG for things you wouldn't see in a Disney movie

Reviews: The more you review, the more I write.

Disclaimed, but never dissed.

Kuwabara Kazuma's POV

I can't quite tell if she's still alive, as I lean over her. I put away my spirit sword; the oozes and entrails that had been clinging to it splatter to the pavement and spray the girl's pale face with tiny pieces of demon guts. On instinct, a half-formed apology springs to my mind before I remember she might be dead. To my surprise, she turns away with a tiny whimper and the blood spilling from her stomach begins to run out onto the concrete and spread.

She's hurt; she's hurt real bad. She's gonna die while I'm standing right here! What do I do? What do I do? What do...? The hospital! It's not far! I can get her there! She'll be okay. Yeah, she'll be okay.

Carefully, I lean down and gather her in my arms as gently as I can. This time she doesn't even make a sound. This is bad. This is really bad. Her head rests on my shoulder as I rise and I can feel her trembling as I hold her close. Something warm and wet begins to seep through my shirt.

I think I'm gonna be sick, but I don't look down. I just keep walking, one foot in front of the other. I can't believe how quiet it is on the street tonight. Isn't there someone, anyone, out here?! The bright lights of the hospital prove to me that at least someone is alive in this city. The ER doors swish open before me and everyone in the waiting room stares. The nurses pause mid-step, surprise painted across their features.

"Would someone please help us?" I yell. That seems to wake them up. Within seconds, the girl is taken from me and disappears down a hall, surrounded by babbling doctors. A nurse tries to press a clipboard full of papers into my hands, but all I can do is shake my head. I don't know her; I've never met her before. Hell, I've never even seen her before.

I notice, for the first time, that my shirt is sticking to my skin as I try to sit down in one of the chairs and before I can stop myself, I look. The blood, her blood, has soaked its way all the way through the fabric, turning the bright blue to a dark purple-black. This time, I really am going to be sick. I barely make it to the restroom in time to avoid making a scene. I stare into the mirror as I wash my mouth out. What am I gonna do?