FIK: Hey everyone! I told you I would have this up by next week. Took me three hours to write it, but that's pretty good considering how lazy I am.

Hiei: Among other things.

FIK: (ignoring him)

Disclaimer: No ownie! (snuggles multiple familiar plushies)

Chapter Twelve

Recap:

And with every strand of his being, he wanted her: to hold, to soothe, to care for... to love? He wasn't sure, but inside himself he realized that he indeed cared for the docile, bubbly, joyous deity he had come to know in the few years as a detective. The problem was now...

... Could he get her back?

Three weeks...

It had been three weeks since that bleak hour...

Three weeks...

Christmas was thirteen days away, so close that everything about the city had transformed, becoming brighter, cleaner, and cheerier. Merry feelings had become infectious, starting with a small smile, a tinkle of laughter and soon a building once full of lackluster workers could be found brimming with cheerful conversations and Secret Santa's.

This time of year the shopkeepers were kept busy, trying frantically to keep up with their steady flow of customers. If anyone was to look for a spare moment, they would see a glimmer of joy in the wearied faces despite all their strenuous work days and tiring shop cleaning. Content in all odds, these soldiers of the merchandising world supplied concerned last-minute shoppers with their precious bundles, handling arguments with an air of kind understanding, taking all necessary precautions for any retail dilemmas.

Snow had fallen in generous amounts during the time passed, spreading a crystal white into every nook and cranny, sparkling fresh and pure. A winter wonderland had emerged in the city of Tokyo, with the glimmering snowdrifts covering the open woodlands and parks, frosting the windows with Jack Frost's delicate pictures. Children played War and made snow angels, building snowmen and crooked ice forts. Bundled in layers of winter clothing, they made their way on a well-known trail to the local lake, now frozen by Winter's icy temperatures. For hours, they would skate, some establishing teams for a little ice hockey, others chasing one another in a game of tag, and a few bold enough to dance, whirled, spun and jumped in a grace that took years to develop. How delightful to an observer's twinkling eyes would this scene be; the unfolding backdrop of fun and laughter, quaint stories of childish glee and goofy contests.

An observer, yes that is what they would say of her. The one who stayed in the background and watched while the others interacted and fought, be it for amusement or for the highest stakes imaginable. She was the burden, the person others had to protect while she could do nothing, praying, healing, but always in the way. Tired, so tired was she of this wearisome feeling, nagging her mind of how weak she was, will always be. It didn't matter now, she had made her choice and now she would never be that burden ever again. That's right, she, Botan Fujiiro, had quit her role as assistant and now spent her days where she belonged: out of the way and safe...

...A stroke of wispy green, a swab of blackened blue, a dollop of dulled silver...

She painted, she drew, she sketched, took pictures, oiled canvases and charcoaled white paper. The days passed with no meaning to her, one by one, ticking away with little interest outside of her work, her passion, her dreams. Tucked away in her locked bedroom, she pored herself into her unfinished pieces, redoing the ones lacking intrigue and creating new when inspired. Little time was spent outside of there, except for when she grew hungry or needed to relieve herself. Minutes became hours, hours to days and then a week, and still, she remained, hidden from the outside world that she could not see from her balcony. Only once had she emerged: to restock her supplies and buy more food. Then she had simply disappeared again, staying resolutely silent to the world by disconnecting her phone and ignoring the growing pile of mail outside her doorstep.

Nearly everyone had tried to get her to come out, pleading, threatening, whispering, shouting, and waiting: endlessly attempting to pull her out to do something other than work on her art. To their despair, she thoughtlessly disregarded all callings, their visits not registering in her mind, their pleas staying outside of her room.

Yukina had wept after the second week, leaving behind one too many tear gems to Botan's liking. Shizuru and Kurama had spoken to her, through the door, calmly asking her to at least come out and talk with them, not demanding, just asking. And still she did not listen. Yusuke and Kuwabara had threatened to break down the door and 'haul her sorry ass out of there and toss her in the snow.' She had worried little at that; Keiko and Shizuru and stopped them from doing anything rash.

Touya and Koenma tried to make her come out; Touya with a soft comment on how upset everyone was, trying to inflict guilt on her, but failing miserably in the end. Koenma had done everything: yelled, pleaded, banged his fist on the door, had a tantrum for hours on end, and still: nothing. The last one to come had been Master Genkai, and she was the only one to get a word out of the blue-haired deitress.

"Botan."

Botan stirred from her work, eyebrows lifting slightly. Who was here now?

"Botan, open the door."

Botan struggled to lift the haze of concentration from her mind and succeeded after a minute. The person was... Genkai!

Genkai stood patiently outside the door, the curiously worried eyes of the others watching silently from the end of the hallway. She said nothing else, just waited, knowing that if Botan wanted anything to do with her, she would, if not, then she would leave her be. A sound of papers fluttering was heard, followed by slow, cautious footsteps. The others, hearing this, tried to move forwards, but Genkai halted them with a glare.

Minutes passed and nothing happened. Genkai sighed, turning to leave when a click rang from behind her. Shifting to look behind her, the door to Botan's room little by little swung open a crack, a tiny bit more, and then enough for only Genkai to slip through. With a warning glance at the anxious youngsters behind her, she walked silently to the doorway, stepped inside, and then closed the door behind her. Once the door was firmly shut, the others snuck forwards, pressing ears to the door, listening and waiting.

The room was dimly lit with candles, the curtains draped across the entryway to the balcony, hiding the room from the bright sunbeams outside. Genkai looked around wordlessly. Paints, pastels, brushes and water cups were littered around the entire area, drying works leaning lazily against the open wall space or hanging from a clever device from the ceiling. Clothes lay untouched in a pile next to the closet door, food of all sorts lying in neat little stacks on the dresser and small table at the foot of the bed. And on the bed, dressed in a paint stained shirt and cotton pants was Botan, facing a canvas with a committed look.

It was grimly obvious she had not cared for herself in a good measure of time, her hair grubby and tangled, face splattered with an assortment of art materials, bags under her eyes from sleep deprivation. She wore no socks or slippers, her hair messily pushed up into a sloppy ponytail, her usual necklace missing.

Genkai watched as she dipped her paintbrush into a pile of dark purples, carefully measuring the amount placed on it and then meticulously stroking it in an exact, precise stroke. Taking up another swath of a light gray, she repeated the step, this time taking a second to mold the two colors together so that they formed one strangely complex color. Rinsing off the brush, she laid it on a palette at her side, rubbed her wrist and then took up the canvas, placing it gently to the side with the others.

Taking this as a chance to approach, Genkai gracefully strode across the room, coming to stand besides the bed. Botan neither moved nor spoke as she approached, simply staring off into space, carelessly twiddling with her brush. Genkai said nothing, just waited, folding her hands behind her back. After another minute or two, Botan slowly turned towards her, brushing a speck of paint off her hand across the shirt, adding to the already stained cloth. With a deep breath, she raised her eyes, the intense, tired cotton-candy lilac gaze catching and holding Genkai's shrewd black ones. Genkai was able to read little in her aura; Botan had somehow blocked her output of emotions in her ki. She could see, however, a light of wondering, a blur of shame, and a simple dark unhappiness.

"Botan."

Botan shifted, motioning her approval if she wished to sit. Genkai hesitated, and then weightlessly sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing out a crease in the intricate comforter.

"You have been busy." Genkai said tilting her head towards the layers of artwork scattered about the room. Botan shrugged, flicking a strand of hair out of her face.

Genkai exhaled lowly, her voice becoming stern and tepid as she spoke,

"I'm not here to tell you that you need to come out of your room. From what I see, you are still healthy, still breathing and busy, though somewhat in need of a bath. If anything, I believe that if you want to stay in here for the next year then so be it, it is your choice. However, it would not hurt to get some fresh air to clear your mind, now would it?"

Botan nodded sluggishly, shifting her eyes to the closed off balcony and then to Genkai again. Genkai understood what she was implying, shaking her head.

"That's not what I meant, Botan, and you know it. I understand you are upset and do not want to join in the festiveness outside of your apartment because of this. That is fine, but do tell me something. Is wasting away in your room really going to make it all go away?"

Botan looked astonished when she finished talking, her eyes wide, a glimmer of fright and desolation passing over her pale features. She made to speak, but stopped, lowering her head. She shook her head once, then again, and lifted her hands to her face. Genkai patted her shoulder softly, expecting some sort of fit of tears. To her surprise, none came, just an occasional shudder and quivering of hair.

"Gen... Genkai..."

Genkai stared as Botan lifted her face to her again; eyes dry and slightly blood shot. Her voice was hoarse, unused and raspy.

"Hai?"

Botan shivered, pulling her arms around herself. A miniscule smile found its way onto her face, a spark of brightness appearing in her eyes.

"Would... would you let them in now?"

Genkai snorted, rolling her eyes. So, Botan did know that the others were eavesdropping.

"Alright, if you want me to."

"Yes." Botan said with a nod. "They deserve it after all this time, wouldn't you think?"

"Hmm, I guess. One last thing... Are you done?"

"...Yes... If you're referring to me crying, then yes, I'm done crying. I've done that too much lately, ne?"

Chuckling, Genkai patted her head once and turned away. Without another word, Genkai jumped off the bed, making her way stealthily to the door. Faster than a blink, she swung the door open and in tumbled one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight, eight crouching bodies. Botan gazed amusedly as the pile of snoopers yelled at one another to get off, clearing her throat. They froze, nine pairs of eyes coming up to land on her.

"Hey guys..."

That had been nearly a week ago...

To everyone's relief Botan told them that she wouldn't lock herself in her room anymore, causing Yukina and Keiko to give her a choking hug, Shizuru patting her arm with an easy smile.

"And about time too," she had said, "or we would have started worrying that you had died by the paint fumes."

To make her point, she sniffed, wrinkling her nose.

"Seriously, Botan, when was the last time you let some air in here!"

And promptly threw open the drapes, blinding them, and then opened the glass door, a burst of fresh, icy wind blowing through the room. Shizuru grinned, allowing herself a moment to enjoy the pure, unaltered air. When she turned back around, however, she burst into laughter, holding her sides as she giggled helplessly.

Botan had fallen off the bed, shivering and looking ready to kill. Who wouldn't after having winter blown on you?

...She never did get revenge on Shizuru, because Kurama so nicely pointed out that she needed a bath, and the next thing she knew she had been tossed into the bathroom and barricaded inside. Why she put up with them... she'll never know.

The past six days had been a blur to her spinning mind: cleaning, shopping, and being dragged around from one place to another without end. She knew that they were treating her like that on purpose; they were frightened she would relapse back into her 'mental depression' as Koenma had put it. She felt happy, really, almost normal even, but deep down she wished for some alone time, to think and reminisce and train. Yes, train. She had long ago made up her mind to stop being so weak and thanks to Master Genkai she no longer felt that abhorred weakness when traveling with Yusuke. That had been over a year ago, and to everyone's surprise she had made giant progress.

Truly, it was wonderful to feel secure in your own skin, knowing that you are not as vulnerable and soft as you had been. She could sit and paint for hours out in the open and not worry about the occasional demonic presence. Which was what she was doing now, sitting on a frosty bench overlooking the frozen lake inside the forest next to her apartment, children laughing and scrambling across its icy surface. In her hand lay a sketchbook, at her side a camera, in her pocket different shades of lead pencils. She had managed to escape (well, convince) the others, telling them that she just wanted to go out on her own and get some new ideas.

They, meaning Keiko and Yukina, had relented in the end, making her promise not to wander to far off. Sometimes, Botan really wanted to hit them with her oar and tell them to stop acting like her mom. Really, she was centuries older than them for Kami's sake! And she had training from the best and was now part demon, part deity, part... something else. Sighing, Botan added the finishing layer to her picture, neatly placing the paper into a folder and standing. Camera around her neck, she strode off, walking placidly along the path made by earlier wanders. Ten minutes later, she emerged from the forest growth, her apartment a welcome sight to her.

She looked at the building for a minute, her mind drifting into a daze...

"Hiei?"

The Jagan returned to normal, Hiei's mind clearing as he came back to reality. Botan was staring at him, her cheeks slightly pink as she lightly touched his face. He jerked at the contact, anger fighting in his gut as he forced himself not to strike her. She pulled away, settling her head on his knees like they were a pillow. Confused by her actions, he watched as she yawned, eyes fluttering with sleepiness.

"Nani, onna?"

She looked briefly up at him, eyelids heavy with tiredness, and a small smile crossing her lips.

"Onegai, Hiei, can you stay... until I'm asleep?" She whispered, eyes beseeching him.

Rolling his eyes internally, he shifted slightly, seeing her yawn widely.

"Hn. Whatever, onna."

With another yawn, Botan smiled gently at him, and then closed her eyes. Just before sleep claimed her, she sighed:

"Arigatou, Hiei-sama."

Botan blinked, clearing her fuzzy vision. Oh no, not again. Botan clenched her teeth, grimacing at the painful thud of her heart as her mind ran the memory again. She had to stop thinking of him; it was so painful to her. Botan forced herself to calm, breathing in deeply.

"No, I am not sad anymore. It's almost Christmas and I'm going to enjoy it. Without that baka koorime too." Botan spoke aloud, nodding self-approvingly. Straightening, she marched across the street, humming a carol she had heard earlier.

'On the first day of Christmas,

My true love gave to me:

A partridge in a pear tree.'

She arrived at her landing a second later, coming to her door. Unlocking it, she walked inside, hanging her coat on a hanger and then heading for the kitchen.

"Keiko, Yukina-chan? I'm back!"

Hearing nothing, she frowned, walking into the kitchen. Setting her stuff down on the table, she glanced around, spotting a note on one of the marble counters. Picking it up, she read:

'Botan-chan,

Me and Yukina had to go to Shizuru's for awhile. Sorry that we left so suddenly, we'll be back later to check up on you.

With love,

Keiko

Botan was about to set the letter down when she noticed something written under Keiko's signature:

P.S. There was a package for you. We put it in the living room for you.

Botan sighed, throwing away the note. Tugging off her bulky sweater, she started off for the living room, wondering what the package was. Coming to a stop, she spotted the said package lying silently on the coffee table. She picked it up, turning it in her hands to see if it had a return postage on it. Spotting no sort of identification as to where it came from, she frowned, growing curious.

It was a plain box, wrapped in a simple green paper and about the size of a normal lamp, two palm lengths wide and three tall. Botan carefully ripped open the paper, placing the torn material onto the table. She popped open the lid of the box, pulling out something hard and covered in more paper. She too ripped this apart, freezing when she finally saw what the package contained.

In her hands was a spiraling metal tree, branches stretching delicately out in numerous directions. It was a forest green and glistened slightly, the branches swaying slightly in her trembling hand. At the end of each branch, about ten in all, were little cups holding golden candles... shaped like pears. Her eyes fell upon the top of the stunning candle/tree, and there, perched with his crest puffed out proudly, was a small, metallic feathered bird. Right then, Botan realized that it was exactly twelve days until Christmas.

'On the first day of Christmas,

My true love gave to me:

A partridge in a pear tree.'

FIK: There you go! So waddya tinks?

Hiei: That they hate it and want you to die.

FIK: Thanks for the input.

Hiei: No problem.

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