Semi-Permanent
For Laura, who always loved my fics.
And for Taji, who always loved them, and my sense of humour.
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho
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She was curled up in her room, alone and afraid. Afraidit would come back.
But she had felt it again. It bubbled up inside her, first nibbling at her toes, then threatening to consume her very being.
It was getting to be like old days.
The days of semi-permanent love, hate, darkness and light.
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"Stay back!"
Those were the last words she heard from her brother before he shoved her away and took the bullet.
Her world went silent, as the bullet blew him back into her. Her mind went numb as she brought her shaking hands up. They were covered in blood spatters. No...This wasn't happening.
The scream that tore itself from her throat, like a beast freeing itself from bindings of flame, fell on silent ears.
The last person she had ever cared for—and whom had ever cared for her—was dead.
And she was alone.
And she knew, then. If her brother was only semi-permanent...
She was too.
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"Miss Sakai? Miss Sakai?"
Botan groaned. What happened? Why was it...so..bright?
"Miss Sakai, please wake up."
She opened her eyes to glare at the white ceiling.
"Miss Sakai." She bolted up at the sound of her name, but clutched her head. It was spinning. She growled and squinted around.
She was in an office of sorts; it was yellow with red designs.
Tacky, actually.
"Where...am I?"
"Miss Sakai, you're dead."
She could've coked, really, had she anything in her mouth. "What?" She turned to stare at a toddler. She blinked. Wait...Toddler? "...Huh? A toddler?"
Said toddler twitched. He was adorned in blue, she noticed, and had a red sash on his waist. A pink binkie had placed itself in his mouth, it seemed. He had the word "Jr." Printed in black on his tall hat. "I'm much older than you, and control your fate—I'm the king of hell!—so I would appreciate some respect."
She nodded dumbly, rubbing her wrists. He coughed and turn his back on her.
His next few words were free of frivolity; they were grave, and cold.
"Now, I am here to discuss with you the punishment of your deed..."
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She had been sad, so terribly sad.
She wasn't sure how many days and nights she had spent on her bed in their—no, her—apartment; wasting her life away, staring at the lights both the sun and moon threw on it. But she didn't care. Did those lines extend to the floor below? Maybe it was all interconnected...Or was the sun only cruel enough to fall into her eyes alone?
Maybe, too, if she were to glare at it, maybe the sun would go blind too, right? Or maybe something else?
She finally found herself in the kitchen one day. Or maybe it was hour, or minute, maybe even week or month. She wasn't sure now. She wasn't even sure how she dragged herself in there, and why there, of all places. Her pink eyes were dull; dim; dead. She picked up an apple—where had the strength come from? It was soft, probably already decaying on the inside...Just like her. The sunset's last rays threw themselves on its shriveling, red skin. It glowed in her hand with a life that she was losing...
She sat there a long time, staring at that apple.
"Are you going to eat it?"
She looked up, matter turquoise hair getting in the way. Her vision was blurred, and her head swayed.
A girl stood in front of her. She had black, short, messy hair, and violet eyes...But they were so cold...One hand rested on her hip.
"Are you going to eat it?"
Botan looked down at the apple again.
"I...I don't know." Was that really her voice? That croaky noise? Maybe that happens after weeks of disuse... "I...I'm still deciding..."
The girl turned around. "Eating is deciding whether you want to live or not. If you're going to commit suicide, do it in a better way."
She was walking away...But she stopped, suddenly. "Might want to think 'bout dieing smiling." Her footsteps continued. "Looks better in the coffin."
Botan blinked. Was that girl dissipating? Turning into dust?
Next moment, juice ran down the sides of smiling lips, and the rotten flesh disintegrated on her tongue.
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Being immortal was a pain, really.
Being an immortal ferry girl was even more of a pain.
Knowing you couldn't die took the fun out of everything.
It also took away last resorts.
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The smile on her face was empty, oh-so-empty. A fake.
It meant nothing.
People were almost surprised at how quickly she "got over her loss."
They really had no idea how wrong they were. She was rotten inside, lifeless. A walking corpse.
She had been surprisingly calm when she filled the bathtub with warm water that night. While waiting for it, she had played with her blade, letting its flashes dazzle her. It was flecked with blood before long, and a few new shapes decorated her arm.
She had caused his death, you know. He died for her. This was the least she could do.
It was ready. Her aquamarine hair was swept up. 'Smile.'
She kneeled in front of the bath tub. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. She stared at the tacky yellow tile opposite her. "Smile." Her voice wasn't even shaking.
With that, she stuck her hand under the water, and slit it.
"The punishment for your deed, suicide, is to work as a ferry girl. Death. It's as semi-permanent job." Her fists clenched.
It seemed even her death was semi-permanent.
Would her rest be the same?
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Okay, there it is, installment one of "Semi-Permanent." Up comes part two
Review.