Price of Forgiveness
--
Part II: Rhyme & Reason
Existing in only shadows,It shies away from the light.Continuing the façade it remains in darkness,Remains bound to the lies,Just so that people will be fooled.And in the hopes that it can fool itself,It remains in shadows, hiding from the light,Hiding from the truth…
Plip… Plip… Plip…
My gaze follows along slowly as another minute bead of pale yellow liquid oozes through the transparent tube of my I.V., feeding slowly into my arm. Another steady droplet follows its course, trailing slowly through the tube only to disappear into my veins. I find it mildly ironic that the nurses who handled the bag containing this foreign substance wore gloves. As though it were some sort of dangerous contagion. Yes, that is right: dangerous. And they just force it into my body regardless.
A tired sigh escapes my lips and I train my gaze steadily back onto the contraption feeding into me. Having been attached to such a miserable human medical device is bothersome enough. However, much to my displeasure, the set up they have leaves me little room to move comfortably, forcing me to lie bed-ridden in this less-than-comfortable hospital bed.
Watching the idle droplets course a steady flow through the I.V. drip is the only amusement they have left me, really. As far as entertainment goes, they could have done much better.
Such a miserable way to pass the dragging hours…
The shuffling of a wooden pane draws my attention, and I turn towards the window. Sliding through the opening with the boneless grace of a cat, Hiei pulls himself into my room through the space he has left himself. He pushes the window further open until the pane disappears behind the drawn-back curtains dangling limply from their rod. Then, he settles himself upon the opened ledge leisurely.
He had, of course, told me that he would be seeing me later. However, I had assumed that meant on another day. Tomorrow perhaps. Not tonight. Visiting hours had ended hours ago, after all. Though, this is Hiei, so I suppose such trivial human rituals hardly mean a thing to him.
I nod towards him in silent acknowledgement.
"How've you fared?" he asks indifferently, arms crossed, one leg spilling over the window ledge. If he is at all uncomfortable, it does not show. "You've been kept occupied, I suppose?"
"Well enough," I reply curtly, nodding. "Never the dull moment here, you know," I add as an afterthought, reflecting on the foregone hours bitterly. A low, harsh laugh rolls off my tongue.
In truth, with all the time spent being poked and prodded with needles, the blood transfusions and the reprimands from my mother before she left and the doctors' afterwards, there has not been a dull moment in the last hours. I would have preferred a dull moment to what I have received, however.
But such is my luck.
He nods slowly. "Right. What's that foolish contraption they've got you tied to?" he asks, his eyes falling on the I.V. drip hanging over my bed, and the tube winding its way down to me.
"An I.V. drip. It is nothing more than a foolish human medical contraption; nothing to worry about," I reply dryly, eyeing the machine with distaste as I speak.
"Nothing to worry about?" he repeats mildly, his eyes narrowing. "So then why did they move that ridiculous thing from your hand to your arm?"
I shake my head, suppressing a slight chuckle. I had been foolish to believe he would not notice the change. In due time he had, which is no less than I expected, really. The I.V. had been moved from its lodging in the top of my hand, to the inner portion of my arm where the elbow joint comes together.
"I did say there has not been a dull moment," I reply slowly.
"You're avoiding the question, Fox. And what have the buffoons done to your hand?" he prompts, his gaze flying to my free hand and the area of purple-blue bruising that has blossomed there.
"I do not care for being poked and prodded with these human contraptions," I sigh, shrugging as freely as the I.V. allows me to. "They are troublesome; many of my plants work far more quickly, and they are more conventional."
"That's not what I asked," he reminds me simply, his voice taking on a hardened tone.
"True," I concede.
When I say nothing more, he glares. "Well, spit it out." Patience never was his top virtue.
I laugh, despite myself at his impatience. I know it sounds petty, but getting a rise out of him is just so much fun; and I can use the entertainment.
"As I said, I do not care to be attached to such human devices." I motion towards the I.V. drip with a small tilt of my head. "The I.V. included."
"So you've established," he snipes angrily, thrumming his fingers methodically against his crossed forearms — a sign of growing agitation. "Get to it, Kurama." Pushy, pushy.
"So, each time they—" I have to bite my tongue before I say something loathsome "— the people that think they are intelligent enough to pass as medical practitioners — stuck it into me, I pulled it out."
He gives me a look, something reminiscent of surprise or disbelief in his eyes.
A thin smile spreads over my lips as I continue. "The nurses who came in here every few minutes to check on me would take notice of the dangling I.V. needle, its contents dripping off into nothingness onto the floor, replace it with a sterile needle, and shove it back into my arm."
I see the beginnings of an amused smile working its way over Hiei's lips and he shakes his head as he intones, "Don't tell me—"
I nod, knowing he knows as well as I where this is going. "This went on for some time, and eventually, the weakened vein in my hand collapsed, so they had to move the I.V." I shrug lightly as I finish. The motion is supposed to be easy, but strung up to the machine as I am, it makes me wince.
Hiei chuckles knowingly, the smile ticking wider at his lips, an ember of amusement flickering in his eyes. No doubt he is thinking, that's Kurama for you. Ever practical. "So why haven't you pulled it out again?"
"Look more closely," I answer, nodding towards my arm in disgust. "They have shoved the I.V. into my vein and wrapped the bandages from my arm over it so that I cannot get to it again."
Silence befalls us after my explanation. The ceaseless tide of the liquid in the I.V. drip drones onward tirelessly, the continuing plip… plip… plip… echoing painfully through the stilled air.
"Your Youki has almost been tapped dry, Kurama. Why?" His voice is distant and the question is asked in such an off-handed manner that I must take a moment to think whether he actually expects an answer.
In my contemplating he has turned from me to stare out the window again. There must be something truly fascinating out there for him to be staring so pointedly.
The question startles me slightly, catching me unaware. "It requires a good deal of energy to keep Youko at bay," I reply lightly, keeping my voice measured.
"Keep him at bay?" The words are barked, and they startle me. "Why do you hold him back?" he asks, his voice threatening to betray some of his curiosity.
"This is my life to live, and I shall follow through how I see fit," I shrug stiffly, failing to make it an amiable gesture. "Youko has no grounds to interfere."
"Hn. Humanity has robbed you of your sense. You've become foolish, Kurama," he snaps, the familiar bite in his tone back again, overlaying the curiosity. It makes me stop to wonder why he is even angry. This is no business of his; and what I do with Youko has no bearing on him whatsoever.
"This is my life. Youko will not intervene," I repeat sharply, my voice dropping an octave to reinforce my meaning.
"You've become weak, Kurama. Your human sentimentality will be your undoing," he voices through gritted teeth, his eyes flashing in restrained anger.
"Weak?" I hiss, eyes narrowing in anger, my mouth thinning into a tight line.
What right does he of all people have to call me weak?
"That's right," he shoots back angrily. "You succumb to emotions far too easily. See how quickly you were to anger after one comment?" He jabs an accusatory finger at me. "You care too much; that you care at all should be your undoing."
"So what if I care, Hiei? What business is it of yours?" I prompt, anger seeping into the words.
He stops for a moment at my words, a brief moment; then he spits: "Youko never cared," with such unabated loathing, such venom in his tone, that all that follows the proclamation is a ringing silence.
The words slap me in the face and I reel back in shock. What? I feel a tight knot of dread welling in my stomach, writhing sickly, making me want to wretch suddenly. He had said it with such undisguised… What? Hatred? Loathing. How could he? But it positively hurts. Suddenly something in my very soul, my very core, aches. It is all I can do not to cry out, it hurts so thoroughly.
"I am no longer Youko, Hiei," I whisper dryly after a few minutes of silence. I am surprised to find that my voice sounds mostly normal.
"I know that," he snaps, sounding affronted. Good.
"Then why not accept it?"
"Accept? What's there to accept?" he asks annoyed, dodging the question in a manner all-too-familiar to me. But now I am not in the mood to play his games.
"That I am not the same being I was when we first met," I reply tiredly, shaking my head. "People change, Hiei. Circumstances change."
"Only if you let them," he argues. "You've become weak, Kurama. You're nothing like Youko. You're not like the person I came to know back then."
Something stirs inside me at his words. Truth, maybe? If it is, I have accepted it, so why is it so difficult for him? I reply, "I am not that same person who you met back then."
"You admit it." He looks pleased at this.
I shake my head and a sigh slips past my lips. "But that means nothing. It holds no significance to anything, Hiei. Nothing relevant, at least."
"It does," he replies; and the bitterness in those two syllables is almost thick enough to make me choke. It is his turn to shake his head. "It changes everything. I don't know the person you've become." There is something in his voice that sounds almost regretful at the last.
"So get to know the person I've become!" I challenge sharply, my tone betraying me by adopting a hint of the pain flowering from my soul.
He turns on the sill then, like he intends to leave. Just like that.
"Admit it, Hiei," I yell, emotion finally breaking the restraints my conscious has long laid upon it and sending them clattering to the floor. "You care nothing for me — not for the human me — only Youko!" I continue, cursing silently under my breath that the damned contraption I am hooked to. As I make a move towards him the painful sting of the I.V. needle in my vein pulls me back in unwilling and grudging defeat. I take it as an incentive to calm myself again.
"What does it matter?" he asks indifferently. Icicles hang on his words.
"It matters a lot, Hiei," I reply, my voice dropping into a softer tone.
"Nothing matters." The retort is followed by a violent shake of his head.
"Everything matters Hiei. You matter, I matter," I intone gently.
"It has no reason to matter," he mutters thickly. There is something painful about his tone of voice.
"I suppose there isn't a tangible reason, no," I allow, watching his turned back carefully.
A hollow laugh travels the length of the room, then. "Just as there isn't a tangible reason for me to be wasting my time here."
And just like that, the words are out. And they whip over me sharply, painfully.
Something in my chest explodes at the realization of his words. Because it is the truth. For him, there is no reason. No feeling, no nothing. For him, it is just that simple. Just a matter of turning his back. Nothing more.
He turns, his hands clenching reflexively over the window pane, his knuckles turning pale white.
"Hiei..." My throat is tight and his name comes out sounding strangled, as though a pair of hands have wrapped themselves around my throat and are attempting to squeeze the life from me.
He turns his head back, eyes slightly narrowed as they glance half-heartedly at me. "What?" he snaps impatiently.
"Would you turn your back so easily on a comrade?" There is a tremble in the words and silently, I curse myself for the unintentional display of weakness it shows.
"And if I did?"
I remain silent at his retort. My thoughts spin in vicious circles, bouncing painfully along the inside of my skull, trying to think of something to tell him. But, what am I entitled to say? If he does turn his back on me, that is my problem, and his choice. I am not one to influence another's actions. It is really not my place to, after all.
He scoffs at my silence and turns to leave.
"Would you turn your back on me?" I ask slowly, fighting to keep my voice calm. Leveled.
At my words he stops, suddenly rigid. There is a fraction of a moment where he is silent. It lasts barely a second, but feels an eternity. Then slowly, he says: "Wasted words."
"You are only afraid, Hiei," I accuse softly, turning away from him. I let a mass of my hair veil my vision, hide him from my sights.
"Don't be foolish, what would I be afraid of?" he replies coldly, a harsh laugh trailing the words.
"Can you really be so blind?" I shake my head slowly.
"What would I be afraid of?!" he demands. And although I cannot see his face presently — cannot allow myself to gaze upon him — I know he is glaring. And I know if I look, I will find anger there, burning deep and unguarded in his eyes.
"Your feelings, Hiei," I venture softly, the sentiment tinged with sadness and the trickle of a derisive laugh.
"Who are you to speak to me about my emotions, Fox?" The words sound constricted, like he is speaking through gritted teeth. I hear the dull 'thud' of his fist slamming against the window pane.
"You trusted Youko, because you and he were one in the same," I continue slowly, keeping my tone light. He knows as well as I that the words are true. "But now, Youko is gone. Replaced by me — a human — the very beings you despise with a passion."
"And if I despise them, as you say," he throws back at me, "why are you so surprised that I would — that I could — so easily turn my back on you, Fox? Listen to yourself."
"Yet, you have feelings for me, Hiei," I reply softly. The words are almost tentative, unsure.
"Are you so sure of that, Kura—?"
"—Feelings of trust, camaraderie, friendship," I cut across him resolutely.
If he is angry, let him be. Right now, my intent goes beyond angering him and beyond making him open his eyes. I merely want to say my share, lest the opportunity not fall before me again.
"You say this as if you know, Kurama," he snaps. Following his remark, the dull thrumming of his fingers along the pane hum through the silence.
So, he may well be angry, but from his outward actions I think I have afforded myself at least a few more minutes of his time. The impatient gesture serves to show that he is listening. Grudgingly, perhaps; but he is listening nonetheless.
"You cannot bring yourself to accept it. You are afraid that just because I have become a human, I will turn into one of them and hurt you. That is why you want me to become Youko once more."
"Don't kid yourself," he snorts in disgust.
"Then tell me, Hiei," I suggest mildly, taking a moment to shift my gaze to him for the first time in several minutes. "If I am so off in my assumptions, then tell me how I am wrong," I urge. "Talk to me."
"You are being naïve, Kurama. Foolish. Stupid."
"Maybe it is stupid," I allow. "But it is the truth, and you know it," I add firmly.
"It's not the truth. The truth is simply that I can't stand you," he shoots back sharply, his temper finally getting the better of him. In his defense, he actually held out longer that I would have thought.
Even though it is just his anger making him say such things, the words still stab into me painfully. In response, I can feel my chains on Youko shifting, writhing. He is responding to the dull ache that Hiei's words have elicited in my soul. To keep my own emotions in check, I stay silent, falling for the second time into a quiet reverie to gather my thoughts.
"You are lying," I sigh deeply, take a steadying breath of stale hospital air. "Stop lying to yourself, Hiei. For the love of Inari, stop."
"Hn." The swish of material registers in my ears and I hear fabric and substance scratch along a wooden surface. "Think as you please. I'm through here."
Then, he is gone. Just like that. Leaving me looking after him, searching the depths of the night with blind eyes for traces of him. Yet, I know I will not find him just as surely as I know he will not return. His pride or his stubbornness will keep him away. Just as they always have and always will. As it is, some aspects of a person never change, no matter how much time or distance is thrown at them.
I shiver, suddenly cold. The night air sweeping through the room from the window he has left open is balmy; not exceedingly hot, but not really cold either. In fact, it should be pleasant. The shiver that escapes me is not in response to the cold of night, however. It is from the cold of abandonment, if you will.
I have finally done it.
My split heritage has finally turned on me, casting me from both worlds I exist in. Or, existed in, as I hardly feel alive at the present.
My demonic soul has turned against me. I lost mother and any aspect of human nature solely by being a half-breed. And now, even the half-breeds have turned on me, leaving in disgust at my human sentimentality. It has driven away my family, and now my closest friend. Or perhaps friend is the wrong term. But it has certainly driven away the one being nearest to understanding me.
Damn Enma and damn that Karma boomerang…
Finding myself staring blankly out the open window, I search slowly for any familiar stars. Faint glimpses are visible from my position: Inari, the Fox God Star, and the North Star in the far-off distance. Aside from the moon, those pale silver slivers are all that light up the darkened night sky.
It is sad really; from the city it is never dark enough to see the stars properly, and I miss them dearly. Seeing any at all should be a treat, but I cannot help missing Makai; the nights were always illuminated by countless numbers of stars…
I once heard that stars were souls. Souls of all our dearly departed, watching over us. Knowing of Reikai, of course that theory is not but allusion and belief, but sometimes I wonder about that. If they are souls, drifting there for no other reason then say, being lost, what will become of my soul?
Will Enma pity me for leading such a despaired existence; will I be punished for the self-same reason? Or will I simply be cast aside as I have always been, left to wander forever as one of those stars?
Because, looking back on it… I have lost my family, any stability I had in this world, and now I have driven away the one person who understands me because life has thrown us the same obstacles.
If I was not before, assuredly now that has changed.
Now, I am definitely one of those stars…
One of those lost souls…
Damned to drift with no rhyme and no reason in this infinite universe for Eternity.