Chasing After Fireflies
by Hikari

“Chasing After Fireflies”
8/7/00
By: Hikari
E-mail to: elvina99@hotmail.com
Notes: Erm… nothing much. This is yet another piece of fluffy stuff (kind of, not really). Therefore this fic is rated G (a little language, but nothing serious). For once I’m not using my favorite bishounen as the main icon, rather- I’ll be using his best friend, and for many- his significant other. Hiei-san deserves a little breaky, and so I’m giving it to him ^-^. What inspired this fic is Mukuro’s song: Rebirth ( no, this fic is not about her () ) . I downloaded it and burnt it to memory, I can’t get over her voice and the Asian ethnicity in the background! It’s really a fabulous song, download the mp3… you won’t regret it.

Uh… it’s been a while since I’ve written ANYTHING- so please be kind. I need to brush up on my writing skills because they’ve recently been going downhill. I’ve been so lazy…


~*~*~*~

In weather like this… When the wind blew gently and everything was calm, I searched for only a hand. Green leaves had turn golden, and they dropped from the trees in showers of brilliant stars. Among them, were sparkles of light. They were small, but they were there. They darted from angle to angle, impossible to catch. They flew
like dreams, soaring higher and higher- away from my grasp. I needed only a hand to seize them…

~*~*~*~

“Shuiichi-kun! Breakfast!”

Kurama opened his eyes. Low sunlight streamed from his satin curtains, washing over the whole room and smoothing over his pale skin. He squinted to the morning- embedding his face in his soft feathery pillows. Red hair arrayed all around his neck and shoulders, blazing with brightness in comparison to his dark blue pajamas.

He looked up, a wary hand reaching across the bed to retrieve an alarm clock. Eight- thirty AM, Saturday. Normally, Kurama would have immediately responded to his mother’s sweet call- however, that wasn’t happening today. He didn’t want to get up, every fiber of his body screamed to stay in bed. Not that Kurama was tired, no he had plenty of stamina. Something else tugged inside of him, and it hurt so much he had no desire to even rise. It was that time again… that time of year where everything died or was in the process of dying… the tides of autumn were here.

There was a knock on the door, and again the redhead didn’t respond to the gentle tapping. The copper knob shook and rattled, slowly opening to reveal a kind, but worn face. Kurama turned to see Shiori, but for only a second. Then he turned away from her again. His human mother smiled sadly, walked into the room – the sound of sliding slippers making the only noise- and sat at the corner of his bed. “Shuiichi…”

He looked back to her once more, green eyes gazing at her lazily. She smiled warmly this time, combing back several strands of raven black hair behind her ear, and cocking her head to the side. “No breakfast today?”

Kurama shook his head.

“Okay…” Looming over him, she brushed her son’s silky bangs- watching them slide quietly back into place just after she kissed his warm forehead. Standing up, she tucked him in with his thin blanket- as though he were still a child- and exited the room.

“Eleven years ago… at a time like this…” Arms locked onto a pillow, searing hot tears spilling from his tightly compressed eyes- soaking the covers.

~*~*~*~

“Kaasan…” It was sunset, and in the province- the sun sank in between two mountains which stretched up to the great heavens. The luminosity the orange orb emanated blanketed the entire countryside- painting the peaks shades of purple and violet, and kissing the lake with glitter.

“Yes dear…?”

“What are those?” A little finger points to the glowing off in the forest.

“Those are fireflies…”

“I’ve never seen them before…” The wind blew just a little harder, ruffling at the two’s jackets audibly.

“They come only at this time of year… They live while everything else around us becomes withered and old. Beautiful aren’t they…?” The woman bent down to touch the little boy’s cheek. “Fireflies are so amazing… they give light like magic in the darkest of nights… If you’re lucky, you can catch one…”

~*~*~*~

Shoving his hands gruffly into his pockets, Kurama proceeded to walk and looked at nothing, but the hard concrete he was on. He had finally found the nerve to yank himself out of bed, then, plainly realizing that even being out and on his feet he was still in no mood to be useful- Kurama went out for a long stroll. Bikers passed by, ringing their bells as a kind gesture for him to move to the side. Children in the park giggled and laughed, throwing the leaves up into the air like confetti- sometimes rolling around in piles, not caring about getting dirty or ruining their hair. The children… how innocent they were. Living in a fantasy world where everything was always heavenly and everything went as clockwork. What a wonderful period in life, how sad that it passed Kurama by. Ever since infancy, he had the mind and the spirit of a kitsune. Dreams didn’t matter, his family didn’t matter, nothing mattered. All that DID matter was going back home- to Makai after a few years of recovery. His plans never took motion, somehow- he felt that the new life he had was a second chance. This was only because he was taught love, however love doesn’t come without pain. Ten years ago, he felt pain. A year before that, was when hurt first phased him- and like the second time, he held himself fully responsible. It was all his fault… or… so he thought.

“Kurama!” He turned around. Before he could make a full rotation, he caught a running figure moving up to him out of the corner of his eye. Black hair, chestnut eyes… called him KURAMA… could only be one person…

“Hey man!” Screeching next to him in a sudden stop, Yusuke slapped him friendlily on the back. Kurama grinned dryly in response, rubbing the back of his neck from not being at all surprised. “What’re you up to?”

“Nothing really…” The redhead sighed, glancing at the tree that was hovering over them. “Just going on a walk… thinking about some things…”

“What fun is THAT?” The other asked incredulously, arms raised- hands strapped behind his head.

“Hm…” His eyelids lowered- foretelling an air of melancholy. This person next to Yusuke, he had a very calm demeanor, but his eyes betrayed him. Even worse, Yusuke was the type to read people like books. Of course, this was probably why Yusuke never read books in the first place: he could read expression, but he couldn’t read words- he refused to.

“Daijoubu ka?”

“Huh?” Being pulled from the world he flew off to, Kurama jolted slightly- his long mane swinging as if it were a regular tail. “Oh… yes… thank-you.”

“You sure? You want come with me to the arcade? Always more fun than just having myself around…”

Chuckling, Kurama scratched his head. “No, it’s alright. But thank-you for the invitation…”

He moved on, and Yusuke followed by walking backwards right in front of him. “Jeez, you’re really polite… Come with me. After all, blue doesn’t look too hot mixed with red…”

“That’s purple Yusuke… It’s not supposed to look hot…”

The other smirked. At least his friend still had his stature in intelligence. “Taking me a bit literal- don’t you think?”

A diminutive grimace pulled at the corners of the redhead’s tight lips. “Yusuke, do you think I could be alone for a while?”

“Oh…” He halted. “Sure…”

Yusuke stepped aside, while Kurama went straight passed him- not even waving back or saying his usual and formal ‘goodbye’. Thick eyebrows furrowed, one rising higher than the other.

“What’s with him?”

*****

Slumping on a wooden bench, he adjusted his hair from behind him and took in the surroundings. The lake he was by was skinned with dead leaves and twigs- they floating on top of the cool water like boats. The bench creaked at his weight, as his legs shuffled into a comfortable position. With his heel, he tapped at the pavement- in a repetitive and rhythmatic tune. Laying his head back, long locks cascading down in scarlet waterfalls, Kurama closed out all of the noise which surrounded him. The pedestrians, the children, everything. The pale blue sky- dashed with powder white clouds- became his new vista. How strange, even though he was only sitting down, he felt that he could fly like this. The nimbuses swirled and rolled onward, fresh air blowing at his complexion with such mildness- it really felt like he was flying…

“That was a long time ago…” Kurama whispered. “I can’t fly anymore…”

Abruptly, a weightless yellow ball landed right on top of his lap. Blinking, he picked up the ball and glanced in all directions for the owner. Sunlight reflected from the moderate sized sphere- making the toy itself a miniature sun that one may hold. Kurama grinned. “Kawaii…”

A young boy, age of five or six, went up to him and pulled at his sleeve. His eyes were large and sea blue in color, his hair dusty blond and trimmed neatly over his brow.

“Excuse me… Mr.…you have my ball… Can I have it back?”

“Of course…” He handed him the ball. “Here you go…”

“Thank-you…” The child smiled- so large that it covered the whole of his lower features- hugging the ball in his short underdeveloped arms with great love. “My mommy gave me this ball… it looks like the sun ne?”

His voice was very small, but there was a great vibrance to it that could make any heart melt. “Yes, it does… you’re very lucky…”

“Uh-huh…” For a moment, the child looked distracted. “Wow…”

Kurama adjusted his vision to where his little guest was looking. In the distance, deeper into the woods of the park… were fireflies… Glowing subtly and floating in movements akin to that of a ghost’s.

“My daddy said that he’d bring me here again to get some in a jar… I promised my mom I’d give her the moon, but I think I jar full of stars is much nicer…”

“That’s good…”

“Keiichi! Time to go home!”

“Uh-oh… that’s my daddy… Thanks for catching my ball...” The blond boy ran in the direction of a parked car off of the sidewalk, where he reunited with his parent- who took him into a large embrace and threw him high into the air before seating him on the passenger’s side of the black Mercedez. Kurama stood up, and went on his way…
On his way home which so happened to be a regular house like any other regular human. How much he’s changed. To the extent he was willing to sacrifice his life for that of his mother… If he could, he would harness- ensnare the wish to turn back time and save the other… He only had one good memory of him, and it was that memory that would be the last…

*****

“You should have seen him…” Yusuke took an enormous bite out of his hamburger, spraying a few chewed up bits bread as he continued. “E… ooked ike … e eatched imsef… om ah erld of ah iving…”

“Eh?” Kuwabara bent across the table in order to pay attention to his friend’s words. “Urameshi what did you say? I can’t understand you…”

The other swallowed hard, a large lump moving from his throat to his stomach. Grabbing a thick wad of napkins, he cleaned off the mustard and ketchup on his chin in one clean swipe. “I said… He looked like he detached himself from the world of the living… ya’ know DAZED.”

“Honto?!” The carrot top took his jumbo sized soda and slurped at it until the straw started making exasperated noises.

“Yea…” Yusuke leaned back casually and pointed at Kazuma’s soda. “Could you stop that? There’s nothing left and everyone is looking at us…”

“Eh? Oh…” Big lips which matched the owner’s loudness left the small red and white striped tube, and an equally large hand shook at the paper cup to see if anything was there. No just ice.

“Damn… Don’t you get bladder problems?”

“Urameshi!” Kuwabara stood up and held his arm up high in the air in pathetic declaration.

“What now?”

“Gotta pee!” The big lug left the Carl’s Jr. booth and headed for the men’s room.

Left behind on the red cushioned seat, Yusuke waited and sweat dropped. “Declaring his own private moments… how attractive…”

*****

Stretching out and yawning in a manner too much like a cat’s, Hiei lounged against the sun-baked bark of an arm of a lush tree. Closing his almond shaped eyes, he prepared himself for a nice long nap. Good thing he was small, for his entire form was capable of bending to the contours of the tree itself. Another boring day, as usual. Leaping from building to building, observing the everyday habits of ningen livelihood, avoid being seen, quick visits to the temple to check on Yukina, a nap… the USUAL.
*Stupid ningens…* The disgruntled fire youkai thought. *Talk talk talk… yap yap yap… At least it’s around dusk now, everyone is going home and it’s QUIET. * He let out a relieved sigh and prepared to sleep-out the rest of the day. This was so… until…

“No kidding? THAT bad?”

His blood tinted eyes snapped open. * DAMN IT*

“Coarse, can’t exaggerate when it comes to Kurama…”

Flipping over to his stomach, Hiei rested his chin on the inside of his palm. *Those two… should have known* Another yawn.

“Should we give him a visit?”

“Are you kidding? You saw how he beat Karasu- HELL no. We should just keep our distance from him… and let him cool off.”

*Smart move… I never would have expected*

“You sure? It blows when one of us is down…”

“Oh yea, what about Hiei?”

The little spy, settled atop a tree over the unsuspecting conversationists- twitched in annoyance as he awaited for all that he could anticipate from the carrot top.

“He’s a rock… doesn’t matter…”

*Rather mild on the insults today, must have had a big lunch…*

Yusuke pulled his hand from his jacket’s pocket- flicking his wrist around to check the time. “Hey man, I gotta go- mother pains…”

The taller shrugged. “Yea, same here… SHIZURU pains…”

Chewing on the inside of his lip, Hiei stood up and flitted out of the tree; the intensity of his launch thrashing the branches causing a colossal flood of leaves to rain over the two poor delinquents. They jumped back and shook their heads, craning their necks upwards later to investigate the foliage.

“Nothing…” Kuwabara remarked, Yusuke frowned.

“Oh no, there was SOMETHING.”

*****

Long artful fingers graced over the many black and white keys. Music flowed with richness from the simple touch of his fingertips. With every touch there was a surge of emotion, with every stroke- his heart pounded and his eyes threatened to well with salty water. It had been a long time since he last played, and doing it all over again brought the one same memory back to him over and over again.

~*~*~*~

“Ah… ah… they’re too fast… I can’t catch them…”

~~~~~~

Kurama’s strokes became more intense.

~*~*~*~

“Let me help you then… here give me your hands and I will help you…”

~~~~~~

Each and every finger pounded more passionately against the keys.

~*~*~*~

“Tousan! You’re making me fly!”

~~~~~~

Tears dripped onto the piano.

~*~*~*~

“Higher Tousan! Higher!”

~*~*~*~

“When you catch a firefly, make a wish and it will come true…”

~~~~~~

More Tears…

~*~*~*~

“Tousan! NO! TOUSAN! TOUSAN!”

~*~*~*~

“What are you doing?”

The sudden impeding of a foreign voice ceased his movements, but resulted in a violent bash on the old piano. Before looking up, he wiped away the wetness beneath his eyes and around his long lashes with the cuff of his sleeve. Glimpsing at the staircase, where the family piano was situated, his eyes met a pair red ones. In the instant he blinked, his visitor blurred right beside him- almost taking Kurama aback. Sensing that his voice would crack, the redhead swallowed before returning an answer to the question. “Making music…”

Hiei brushed his friend’s arms aside and continued to play half of the harmony the other had just orchestrated with his right hand. Peering at Kurama, he filled in. “I mimicked your movements… it’s almost like a code to break a safe.”

Nodding, Kurama struck at the furthest and highest key. “I take it you haven’t lost your skills as a thief…”

“Hn.” The youkai rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning against the banister carelessly.

“So…” He stopped pressing the key. “What are you doing here?”

A grunt, and then a smirk. “ Your mood is affecting the others’ morale… What’s going on?”

The redhead bowed down. “Nothing… It’s something you wouldn’t want to listen to…”

“I always listen.”

That statement earned a long and shocked stare, but Hiei returned the gesticulation with an indifferent face. Not at all affected… “I came in through your window and noticed your mother left the house, if you want to say something to me- you had better make it now…”

“Uh…” Kurama’s palms went sweaty, slipping against the smooth ivory, fingers sometimes curling together with uncertainty. His hands altered into compact balled-up fists, which shook visibly with what could be frustration or self-torment.

“Who taught you how to play this thing anyhow?”

“Huh?”

The other motioned to the large object the redhead was at. The heat that seemed to have enveloped his whole body lifted, and the band of perspiration- which coated his forehead- immediately dried. He was grateful –to say the least- that the conversation went onto another track. “My parents did… both of them. I learned when I was very little, I’m surprised I still remember how, especially from years of non-practice…”

“Hn… and the song you were playing?”

Aligning his back, the other shifted his irises to the white ceiling- they moving around to unlock memories. “I don’t… remember…” He chuckled a little sadly. “For all I know… he…” The sentence was cut short, one out of instinct- the other out of recognition of where all this was going, Kurama found himself horribly trapped.

“Who’s he?”

Trapped. “He… was my father… I think the piece I was playing was something he created on his own…” Hiei softened just barely, seeing as Kurama’s voice shook warily and came very close to a total breakdown. “He died when I was only four…”

There was a picture on top of the head of the piano- an old picture. It was covered with dust and the photo alone began to fade from being bleached with light and age. A bandaged hand clasps onto it carefully, and a left hand swabs away the build up of powder. The picture was beige- no distinct colors. In it was a young boy, barely up to his father’s knee- clutching onto the older’s pant leg in front of house sited somewhere around the outskirts of Japan. “Is this him?”

“Yes…” Kurama slowly took the frame from his friend’s hold, thumb caressing the glass sensitively. “Before we came to Tokyo… before my father died… we lived in the provincial areas… north of Honshu and somewhere around the Hirosaki Mountains, but by the Towada Lake… there were… so many fireflies… back then…”

“Oh… Is that what’s bothering you? Your human father’s death?”

Emotion wavered throughout Kurama’s features. Half of him wanted to cry, the other half wanted to suppress it instead. He opened his mouth, but found that he couldn’t articulate an explanation to his feelings. What’s more, he sensed a wave of revulsion from his companion… or was it something else?

“You’re holding on too tightly to the past- let go of it, or you will never move on…”

Taking his view away from the photograph, Hiei was gone. All of his bones became stiff and rigid; his total frame shook from numbness. The redhead gritted his teeth as his muscles tensed, the pressure coming from his hand cracking the glass cover of the frame. “But you don’t understand…” He choked. “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! I KILLED MY FATHER! I KILLED MY FATHER! I HATE YOU HIEI! YOU’VE BROUGHT ME DOWN TO THIS! I HATE YOU!”

His back slid against the wall and the corner of the piano. Kurama huddled into a ball, protecting the broken picture frame within his arms- rocking back and forth for his own comfort. “I killed my father…” He whispered. “I killed my father…”

Tears now flowed freely from his deep emerald eyes, broken through the invisible dams that he had built around them for so many years. It felt good to cry, but it stung knowing that it wouldn’t change anything. His father was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it… All he did now was place all the blame on his own two shoulders for everything that had happened eleven years ago…

In the shadows of the staircase, two eyes flash in secrecy. “At least you can’t drown yourself in the inside now… I’d rather have you hate me, than be swallowed up in the stupid past…”

~*~*~*~

Several leaves- some golden, some bronze- snapped from their stems and drifted to the world below. The leaves, they crackled with dryness and piled up high covering all of the natural flooring. A cool wind blows, sending some of the debris sailing to unexplored lands. It was chilly, but it was also warm. Autumn, a beautiful season. The scenery and the weather blended in together so well. The warmth of the sun and the iciness of the breeze. Yellow and ginger tinted skies, the smell of cedar and cinnamon sticks radiating from almost every little house in the mountains. It was this time of year when the heart of the family was strongest… Beautiful…

“Ah… Ah… They’re too fast… I can’t catch them…” Crimson red hair fluttered up and down, swished from left to right- child jubilant and excited. In his little hands were a lid- punctured with minute holes- and a jar. He swung left and right, jumped up and down. As much as he could, he accelerated his speed in order to catch the flying treasures… For a reason unknown to him- if he could have just one firefly, he felt that he could be happy forever. ‘Fireflies are so amazing… they give light like magic in the darkest of nights… If you’re lucky, you can catch one…’ His mother had said that, after picking him up from pre-school and on a nice walk to their humble home. *If I’m lucky…* The little one thought. *If I could catch just one… I won’t be lonely anymore… The light will keep me company in the night… I’m all alone in this body… I’m lost here… I want a firefly to light my way…*

“Let me help you then… here give me your hands and I will help you…” The boy turned around, finding a tall man that he clearly recognized right behind him.

“Tousan…”

“Sssh…” His father smiled, crouching down behind him and supporting both of his hands- directing them where to go. “When you catch a firefly, make a wish and it will come true…” The brightness from the curious insects reflected off of the man’s eye glasses as he spoke softly. The sparks of light floated and hovered, while the two – father and son- waited patiently for the creatures to come to them. Then, after an expanse of long patience, one flew into the jar, and together- they screwed on the lid.

“We got one!” The child laughed. His father grinned kindly in return.

“Yes… Do you know the reward for catching a firefly?”

“What?”

“You can fly!” Hefting the little body into his warm strong hands, he threw him into the air and caught him. Holding the redhead from the underarms, he held the boy lovingly and in a superman-like fashion. Then… he ran. He zoomed and dashed in between the tall trees. Winding in and out of them like a maze- fallen foliage propelling from behind them. The redhead leveled his arms, laughing in delight as he felt himself soar through the air.

“Tousan! You’re making me fly!”

His father laughed too… the firefly in the jar the boy was holding was working… They were both so happy…

“Higher Tousan! Higher!”

He was lifted higher, and their speed increased. The brush and branches they ran past by only appeared as streaks and blurs of varied colors. Faster and faster they went, they were really flying…

Suddenly, they stopped. The man fell to his knees, gasping exhausted and coughing. Getting out of his hold, the little one turned to face him. Wide green eyes broadened further from concern. “Tousan… What’s wrong?”

A quaking hand grasps onto his chest- over his heart. The man coughed and coughed, so hard that tears were surfacing and his face flushed red. After several short minutes, the father had one final gasp- before his eyes rolled in and he fell backwards.

As this happened, the boy’s stomach twisted- face wrinkling in synch because of the abrupt realization. He dropped the jar- it shattering and setting the firefly loose.

“Tousan! NO! TOUSAN! TOUSAN!”

Screams and cries echoed into the woods. He was so devastated that every direction he looked to appeared the same. Confusion… and this new feeling… a feeling of… being shredded up to pieces inside… What was this feeling? Why did it hurt so bad? Tears exploded out of his eyes, breath almost hyperventilating from shock. “My dad… I killed my dad…”

~*~*~*~

Hot water blotched the pillow beneath Kurama’s face. He tossed and turned, but he just couldn’t get to sleep. Hiccupping from the crying, he glanced at his clock: Nine-thirty PM. Although Kurama hadn’t done anything for the entire day, he was listless. At the same time, he was also restless. These memories, which came crashing back to him now, were clearer and more painful than they ever had been. Kicking at his blanket violently, he turned onto his chest and gripped the bed sheet vehemently. No sleep. He couldn’t, he was too burdened. Sitting up, palms rubbed along his face- smearing away the tears, but reddening his eyes to match his hair. Giving in, his feet padded to the bathroom to wash off. He stripped off his night garments and fastened into casual attire. Looking over himself, Kurama sighed and left the household for a walk… A walk into the night.

*****

“Eleven years ago… at a time like this…” He droned- walking dejectedly to wherever his feet so happened to lead him. For all he cared at this moment, he could have been hit by a car or shot by some mugger. That didn’t happen, it was just a peaceful night in the neighborhood.

He passed by houses. Every now and then he couldn’t resist peering into a window as he strided by. Families were together- WHOLE families. Watching T.V., chatting at the table, the normal bonding. Whereas he- he quietly suffered miserably for the past few days… His mother was completely understanding, however. Even Shiori had dampened in mood, yet she held as much optimism as she could to keep the little family together. Kurama smiled a little. His mother was so strong… He admired her and loved her so much… No wonder his father chose her out of a million…

Feet in regular loafers plodded along, crunching at the leaves and snapping the twigs with his weight. Kurama wished for company…

A blank iron gate creaked eerily, and the redhead went up to it to shut it. As he was pushing at it, he noticed that it was actually a gate to a cemetery. In a flash he thought about how far he strayed from home without even thinking about it. Since this was the anniversary of his father’s death, Kurama was more than willing to pay a visit even at such an awkward hour. Entering, he squinted his eyes to identify the numerous tombstones and memorials… It was so dark, almost as though he were walking with his eyelids closed. What made it worse were the low hanging trees which blocked out the rays emitted from the pure white moon. Kurama walked and walked, head darting at every angle- hair whipping behind- to find his father. His footing arched, and carefully he moved up a semi-steep hill. The willow trees were clearing from sight, and the moon along with his heart- led him to the aged stone. He blinked at finding that there was a person there- covered with an overcoat and head down in prayer. Moving closer, the shine of her face told him that this person was none other than his own mother.

“Kaasan?”

She gasped, swinging only her face around in the way of where Kurama’s soft tender voice came from. In reaction to seeing him, she smiled with her lips and motioned for him to join her. When Kurama reached her side, she took his cold hand into her warm one and squeezed it for assurance. “Shuiichi-kun…” Shiori began. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh… mm…” He looked down, unable to allow himself to see his mother face to face. His long jagged bangs descended- curtaining the most important feature of his whole complexion. His eyes spoke only of truth… and the truth was… he was in pain and he couldn’t let go of it… “I wanted to see my father… it’s… been a while…”

“Say hello then…”

“Uh…” Shiori’s hand moved to his shoulder, and it squeezed there too. With her other hand, she stroke his face and kissed him on the cheek.

“Do you like the flowers I gave him?”

Turning to the stone, made of black and gray marble, his eyes wandered down it until they encountered silky petals- milk white rimmed with tones of pastel yellow. Because of the moon, the flowers seemed to shimmer magnificently- almost floating amongst the shadows since their dark colored stems were too hard to be seen.

“Gardenias?”

“Yes, your father used to get them for me all the time…”

Silence made it’s way between them, the kind of silence that was neither awkward or peaceful… it was the type of silence that had both and more. Shiori looked to him, piercing her lips together in preparation for words.

“If you want to talk to him… you don’t have to say anything… You can think of what you want to say… and he will hear you…” She fingered below his sharp chin and raised it, slowly making him focus on her. Her eyes had become as watery as her sons, but they weren’t in grief… They were hopeful… “You’re fifteen years- old… so much time has passed… Why do you still feel it was all your fault? We leave this place when we are meant to- your father… he lived a very full life, despite the length. It hurts him to see you this way… Pain shares pain… Happiness shares happiness… Please… be happy for your father… You know how much he loves us…”

Trembling, Kurama established enough strength and will to nod for her. “Talk to him… I’m sure he’ll be overjoyed to hear from you…” She turned to the gate far from them. “If you’re not ready yet… take your time… I’ll be waiting at home for you… Alright? Take your time…”

With this last thought- she kissed him for the last time that night and let him be. The redhead stepped closer, waiting for the words to come… They didn’t. He took another step. Still… nothing… He inched his way… closer and closer, until he was only a mere foot away from the stone. Dead brush had adorn the base of the tomb… some wood dust sheathing the marble. One more step. His fingers quivered… he touched the grave, then began to smudge out the soot. The words finally came: *If I could… I would save you… but it’s too late for that isn’t it?* Licking his lips, he gulped down thickly. The pit of his soul… it was on fire… however… it wasn’t burning… it simply kindled subtly. *I’m sorry… I’m sorry for lying to you… I’m sorry for lying to mother… I’m not your son, yet… it really feels like it… Doesn’t it?* Teardrops slipped through, splashing on the grave and sliding down it. *Will you take me as your son? Could you? After what I’ve done to the real Minnamino Shuiichi… Could you possibly? Love me? * A small smile… a mysterious one is drawn. It was soft- appeased- buoyant. *Am I happy now? To be able to talk to you like this…? So you will… You will take me?* The smile widens. *I don’t know how to comprehend what I’m feeling… but… I love you too Dad…*

“Kurama…”

That voice… The one he was angry about from a few meager hours ago. Kurama half-grudgingly fronted him. “Hiei…”

Expressionless… as always… Hiei soundlessly lingered closer to him, until they were standing right by each other just as Kurama had with his mother. Hiei deftly stuffed something into his friend’s palms. The redhead’s eyebrows arched surprised, fingertips feeling smooth glass in his hands. “What’s this?”

Raising the puzzling object, his mouth gaped when he saw eleven separate speckles of light- dancing gracefully in the limited space. “One for every year… since then…” The other explained. “Sometimes you have to slow down to get what you want…”

“Thank-you…” He examined the contents of the jar again. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess?” Hiei shrugged. “Light makes good company at times like this…”

“Mm… Hiei do you think I could give this to him?”

“It’s yours… Don’t ask me…”

Bending down, he settled the gift by the gardenias- kissing the engravement of his father’s name in the process.

“Kurama…”

He looked up.

“It’s time to say: ‘goodbye’… You need to let go now…”

A nod. “Just… a moment…” Reaching into his hair, Kurama pulled out a seed and had it grow into a budding rose- velvety in texture, scented of fruits, and two-toned with rich colors of cherry red and sun morning yellow. He laid it on top of the jar.

Standing, with more strength and lightness than before, a corner of his mouth went up and he nodded again as a sign to go home. Not a word was exchanged after that. They didn’t have to say anything… The whole night’s experience spoke for them… Nevertheless, as soon as Kurama reached the door to his home… his friend left him with something to think about….

“Don’t chase after fireflies anymore Kurama… CATCH them.”

back to from the heart >>