FIK: Okay, here's Chapter 13 for all you eager people. (gets bombarded with angry emails threatening to send flying eels on me if I don't update)
Hiei: Finally... something good happens.
Disclaimer: Eh? What? I can't hear ya, you'll have to speak up sunny!
Chapter Thirteen
If the world stopped for every time someone changed, it simply would not turn.
If birds sang for every feeling of joy, the song would never end.
If children cried for every fall they took, the tears would drown us all.
If a heart skipped a beat for every time lovers' eyes met, it would stop beating.
If winter came every time someone was unhappy, there'd be no spring.
If no one recovered from a breakdown, there'd be no one left standing.
If all the emotions in a body were named, the list would go on forever.
And if someone tried to understand their emotions, they'd plunge into madness.
Stores were closing up shop for the weekend celebration, the wearied, glowing people of the work force finally stopping to rest. Planes, buses, taxies and trains carried loved ones back and forth across the country, their destination one in the same: home for the holidays. Streets were less crowded, offices closed and dark, the sidewalks near empty save for the few stragglers left to trudge through snow drifts towards their objective. Twinkling lights lined every edge, ever railing, every roof, all spreading their dazzling display to the darkening sky, silently cheering the close coming day of laughter and love.
The forest was empty, the trails barren. Forgotten snowmen and snow angels littering the park stood with their button smiles and pebble eyes, adorned with scarves and hats abandoned by their creators. They stood quietly, absorbing the chiming and chattering of crackling ice coating the heavy armed giants around them, puffs of loose ice crystals taking flight with the slightest gust of chilled wind. The ice pond lay untouched, laced with delicate figures of long ago skaters and racers, shimmering in the late afternoon glow. If there were creatures stirring in the snow embodied forestry, they remained concealed, bundled within their dens to stay warm and alive.
Windows of homes, apartments and such were glowing multitudes of soft yellows, intermingling with the common sight of a tree strung with lights and fragile orbs and figures. Banisters were draped with holly, mistletoe balanced secretly above entryways and wreaths placed proudly out on door fronts. The aroma of chocolate cocoa and roasted marshmallows hung about the fronts of homes, sliding out seductively into the noses of those passing by, making them slow their quickened pace. From each chimney top curled out white, gray and musty streams of cedar smoke, husky and alluring from afar, the crackling mother logs smoldering below them.
The brother holidays, Hanukah, Kwanza and so many others, also took their place in this season of family traditions, giving and receiving. Candles were lit, day by day, one by one, representing the religion of their household and the strength of their beliefs in each flickering flame. Songs sung in foreign languages, though muffled by the four walls around them, were heard, fun, festive and joyous. Joining in the ceremonial songs were carolers, huddling before doorsteps and crowded shopping areas to sing their own tune.
This was the scene set on the tenth day of Christmas, as the song goes, for there was one day to go until the Eve of all Ages took flight and then the wondrous night and day itself set in, twelve strokes of the clock and it would come. The days before had been busy, bursting with last minute gift buying, decorations being set up and plans made. And for one moment, the first time in over a week, she was alone, breathing a sigh of relief over freshly brewed coffee, smelling richly of cinnamon and vanilla.
"Thank god Yukina knew how to use the coffee maker..."
She sipped the said coffee, groaning happily as it swirled around her taste buds, hitting the back of her throat with a flourish and then sliding sinfully down. Taking another heavenly swallow, she set the red and green painted ceramic cup onto the table next to her bed, licking away a spare drop sitting on her lips. She had fallen in love with this certain brand of flavor-enhanced coffee long ago, sitting at a small café just outside the city, with the enchanting name of Baroque Bistro (meaning: an old fashioned, ornate coffee house with small delicacies). It was on a quaint little shopping sidewalk where the owners made sure that their customers were treated like family, the shop brimming with the blissful smells of freshly made pastries and cushioned, squashy armchairs to sit in while pleasing your taste buds. Yes, she loved the charming little eatery, often visiting when her mouth watered and demanded sweets, whether she was in the middle of an errand or just strolling down the street.
She laughed at herself, thinking how odd her habits had become. She adored that place like a second home, nearly as much as ice cream to-
RING!
Botan jumped, hazardously hitting her knee on the oaken table as she shot upwards.
RING!
She hissed, rubbing her knee. 'Darn it, that's going to bruise...'
Wondering who could be at the door, or who it couldn't be since she had just shooed the last of the gang out at the risk of becoming insane, she hobbled to the door. Opening it, she put on a cheery smile, only to raise an eyebrow when she saw no one was there. Poking her head out, she looked to the left, then to the right and seeing not a soul in sight, made to shut the door only to pause. Eyes widening, she spotted a bizarre shape lying just down the hallway. She approached it slowly; she gasped.
"Oh! Oh my goodness!" She squealed, running over to it and kneeling.
In front of her was a miniature stage, elegant and flawless in its diminutive state. Posing proudly were ten little men, dressed in their own unique garments of silks and satins, cashmeres and velvets, jeweled and fashioned to perfection. All were placed in a different position, smiling or scowling faces, short or tall, hat or no, ancient armor or the latest fashion, each were their own bright person. The stage itself was made of a shining, unblemished wood finished with a bright gold finish, plum curtains of velvet, tiny little lights shining with realistic brightness. The figurines were attached to the stage by a small holding-hook to their backs, small places for them to move in the flooring.
Botan giggled, examining each one with shared delight, eyes lighting up to a glistening pink. How funny they were, so small and yet so swollen with pride, standing in their lordly costumes, ready to bound. Searching the stage, she was overjoyed to discover a bronzed handle that turned when she touched it. Giving it a few dozen twirls, she sat on her heels, biting her lip and watched.
Tink. Tock. Tittle. Squeak. Tum de dum, Tum de dum. Diddle diddle dum de dum.
Ten little men, ten little leapers, ten little plays of happy, jumping, twirling movements depicting unique shows of soaring waltzes. A song started to play from somewhere inside the stage, a tinkering tale of hops and skips, joyous and rambling. It was foreign on her ears, but after a second she realized just how fun and catchy it was, finding herself moving along with the beat.
Tink. Tock. Tittle. Squeak. Tum de dum, Tum de dum. Diddle diddle dum de dum.
Five minutes later, Botan was laughing, nearly crying on the floor outside her apartment door, the dance ending seconds later. Wiping away the wetness, she sniffed, staring at the stage with glowing love, picking it up gently, surprised about how light it was. She carried it inside, shutting the door with her foot and skipping to her living room. Inside, a tree sat cheerily in the corner next to her fireplace which was crackling happily, red and orange flames burning optimistically. The room was decorated with holly and streamers, ready for the party that was going to happen the next night, luminous with all the Christmas decors sitting perfectly in place. Botan carefully placed it onto the table sitting besides the large couch, ideally in a place where it could be seen from any part of the area.
Botan stepped back, giving it a last happy glance and then turned, inspecting the rest of the room. On the coffee table was a sparkling silver bowl, nine brilliantly molded ladies in ball gowns spinning around the edges. Besides it was another bowl, but separated into eight small dishes connected together in a flowery shape by one large one in the middle; at the bottom was a hand painted milk maid, hand clasping a pail of milk.
Over on the mantle was a swirling picture frame molded of bronze and wood, seven long necked swans edging the glass with semi-precious stones embedded in a swamp land setting. To its right was another candle holder, six geese of silver joining wings in a circle, a tall yellow candle jutting out from behind them, carved with spheres shaped like eggs.
Botan hummed, striding back to her bedroom. She sat on the bed, scanning her eyes over three items that had joined the candle tree. Squatting in a huddle were two turtle doves, book ends, their wings spread into circles above their heads, pressing together her favorite books of poetry and fiction. On her dresser was a jewelry box of French design, depicting a farm in reds and whites and blues, all sorts of animals cantering along the edges; three fat white hens sat chattering, collecting their corn from their loving owner. Hanging from the roof of her window were four crystal birds, an assortment of bells and chimes strung among them. When the wind blew, the musical devices set up a beautiful melody, singing, humming, chiming, calling...
It was the item in her hand that held her attention the longest, her nimble fingers twiddling with it fondly. The jeweler two doors down had exclaimed upon spotting it, hurrying over with wide, twinkling eyes.
"Aye, brilliant craftsmanship... pure gold... a piece worthy of a queen no doubt... I say, are those rubies and, oh! Amethysts also I see; I believe that is an opal there, in the center... Wonderful, gorgeous. You are lucky to have acquired such a grand item, my dear... Inherited you say? Hmm... Indeed. Take good care of it! Adieu to you now, good bye!"
Botan cocked her head to the side, looking at herself in the mirror, holding the necklace up to her. A queen she had said? Well, she was no queen, but this prize certainly made her feel like one. It was a necklace, of pure gold as the jeweler had told her, concocted of the named jewels in a twisting, thin strand; five rings sat separately around the entire chain, small enough to fit her pinky fingers, but beautiful nonetheless. Engraved into each one was a word, but to her curiosity they were not of any language she had ever seen. She had asked Kurama, but he had shaken his head saying he had not seen it before. She doubted that however, if the strange light in his eyes meant anything.
"Ten days... ten days since the first item." She murmured, eyes lowering to the necklace once more. She was joyous over the gifts of course, holding each one dearly in her heart. They were so precious, so wonderful; no one could turn them away, not even when they just showed up out of no where. She had not received them all at her door step strangely enough. The necklace itself had been given to her at the Café when she had been eating her favorite cheesecake, with cherries. A random boy had come up to her, asking if she was Botan. When she had said yes, he had smiled, placing a neatly wrapped box on the table, waving and then taking off without another word.
Botan laughed, remembering how she had nearly fainted at the sight of the necklace, needing ten minutes to hyperventilate over it. She had jumped to her feet, hurriedly paid the confused owners and sprinted to her apartment. The next hour had been spent trying it on with different outfits, giggling and blushing like mad. Kurama had arrived with Shizuru minutes later and when she had greeted them still wearing the necklace, it was then that they had found out about the mysterious gift giver. Shizuru had smirked throughout the entire meeting, looking at her innocently when she asked what the look was about.
Sighing, she placed it into her new jewelry box delicately.
"Why... who would someone give me these things?"
'Him....' Her inner mind said. (Yes, she does talk to herself.)
"What! No, he would never be so kind and giving!"
'There's still a chance.'
"So? He... he..."
'Made a mistake. It happens. Love does that to people.'
"LOVE! Me and! No, no way in a million, bazillion years—"
'Denial is the second sign you know...'
"What! NO! Grr... Go away."
'Whatever. Just remember that refusing to listen to yourself is the thir-'
"GO!"
Botan fumed, stomping out to the kitchen. How could she keep doing this to herself? The past week she had drowned herself in ways to keep busy, to block, and to forget. But, she couldn't stop thinking about him. He kept popping into her thoughts, making her lose sleep, skip meals and gaze into nothingness as she replayed scenes in her head. Her mind was being traitorous, reminding her about how much she cared for that stubborn, dark koorime, but her heart refused to let her believe and forgive. He had hurt her, badly, and she had given up, leaving her soul bared to him and letting it be stripped and beaten. She'd left her heart on the cold balcony, intending to rid herself of all pain forever.
She couldn't... She couldn't do it.
She missed him. She missed him so much, so horribly much. She missed his pissed looks and furious eyes, the coldhearted statements the hid their true meanings, the scheming little ideas, his redundant pity, his arrogance and pride, the shows of humor and annoyance. Yes, she missed the way he pissed her off, drove her insane, the small talks, the funny moments, his cruel jokes. She pined for his other side, the side he so rarely revealed and yet she had somehow gotten into, from the minuscule touches, scarce smiles, crooked grins and smirks, the strange gleam he got in those crimson eyes. She wanted to feel his warmth, his strong, powerful hold and touch, the way he held her so tightly and yet so tenderly, his enchanting scent and dominating aura, his kisses...
A strangled ball lodged itself in her throat.
Botan stopped. She had once again made herself miserable without realizing it and she was unhappy because of him... because he was gone.
"Why? Why, when we were so close, so close to becoming... something. Something that... I don't know what, but it was there, I could feel it. Didn't you feel it... Hiei?" She whispered.
Sighing, she picked up her jacket, heading out the door and departing her apartment complex. When she got like this, the best thing to do was to cheer herself up. And the best way to do that was to eat the best chocolate cheesecake and sip some cider at Baroque Bistro, quaint little eatery and home to broken hearts and wistful thinkers.
On the tenth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me,
...Ten lords a-leaping...
...Nine ladies dancing...
...Eight maids a-milking...
...Seven swans a-swimming...
...Six geese a-laying...
...Five golden rings..
...Four calling birds...
...Three French hens...
...Two turtle doves...
...And a partridge...
In a pear tree.
FIK: Sorry that is so short, I would have gone on, but I want to get this up before I leave for Spring Break. Yeah, I'm gonna be gone for awhile, but when I come back I'll have the next chapter ready to go.
Hiei: And that will never happen...
FIK: Why's that...?
Hiei: Because I will kill you before you finish this fic.
Botan: Oh, do shut up, Hiei. (smooches him)
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