InuYasha Fan Fiction / Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ A Father's Love ❯ Where Words Fail, Let Flowers Speak ( Chapter 7 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Luthien Tinuviel-Minyatur 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction / Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Shounen / Angst / Romance / Drama | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 10.24.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 803 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction / Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Shounen / Angst / Romance / Drama | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 10.24.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 803 | Status: Work In Progress
I do not own Inu Yasha or YuYu Hakusho. They are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Yoshihiro Togashi. I make no money off of this, nor do I intend to.
Chapter Seven:
Where Words Fail, Let Flowers Speak
When Kurama returned, he was greeted with a slew of questions, some of which were easier to answer than others.
“Where did Koga go?” Kagome asked, her voice raising above the others’.
Kurama shrugged. “Something more important caught his interest, I suppose. He was about to attack me when he looked away for a split second, and,” he snapped his fingers, “he was gone.”
Inu Yasha just looked at him suspiciously, since he knew Kurama’s little secret. He thought that Kagome knew, but she was acting unusually dim lately, especially when it came to Kurama.
Everyone easily accepted his explanations, and they moved the discussion to what to do next.
“Since it was Koga’s shards that Kagome sensed, should we keep going and see if she senses any more, or should we go back to the village?” asked Sango, adjusting how Hiraikotsu sat on her shoulder.
“I think we should keep going,” said Kagome, as Shippo leapt up into Kurama’s arms. “At least for another day.” She turned to Inu Yasha. “What do you think, Inu Yasha?”
“Do what you want,” he said, looking away and crossing his arms.
“That’s Inu Yasha for ‘fine with me’,” translated Shippo.
Kurama smiled and hugged Shippo. “I have a friend who talks like he does,” he said, in a conspiratorial whisper. “The most that comes out of his mouth is ‘hn’. I have to translate for our other friends.” He knew that Hiei would never call Yusuke or Kuwabara “friends”, but Shippo didn’t need to know that.
“Well, let’s go,” said Kagome.
The day trudged on, the sun moving unusually slowly to Kurama’s mind. After what seemed to be decades, the sun finally sank behind the trees. Dinner, like lunch, was a quiet affair, everyone within their own minds.
Inu Yasha was assigned the second watch, Kurama taking the first. For the first half, Kurama just prodded the fire, wishing for a brief second that he had Hiei’s control over fire so he would not have to feed it so much.
Two hours in, he suddenly felt a sharp pain on his cheek. Thinking it was a simple insect, he slapped it, then reached for his hair.
“Greetings, Lord Kurama...” he heard faintly. Looking closely, Kurama recognized the flea.
“Ah, there you are, Myoga. My apologies.”
“I had not recognized you at first, Lord Kurama. But the blood always tells.” Myoga recovered from his brief existence in two dimensional and hopped up on Kurama’s shoulder. “I am pleased to see you have returned, Lord Kurama.”
“I am glad to have returned.”
“I have been watching Honokitsu, just as you asked. I fear I may have let his true name slip when Inu Yasha first encountered him.”
Kurama sighed. “I am pleased that someone remembers that Honokitsu is of an honorable line and should be called by his proper name.”
“Your father would have been proud of him, Lord Kurama.”
“I can only hope, Myoga.” Kurama looked at the flea out the corner of his eye. “Are you not going to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“Ask me if I have returned to care for Honokitsu.”
Myoga shook his head. “It is not my place to question your doing. You will do as you and Lord Hiei will.”
Suddenly Kurama felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. It was not a great weight, but it was enough to make him feel just a little lighter. “Thank you. I am glad that someone does not expect me to do what *they* feel is best.”
“What do *you* feel is best?” Myoga asked, crossing his arms.
Kurama sighed and put his head in his hand. “I do not know, Myoga,” he said with an air of great despair in his voice. “I have no idea how to really be a father. Nor does Hiei. There are times I feel he is better off remaining with Inu Yasha, forever ignorant of his true parentage.”
“But...” encouraged Myoga, knowing there was more to Kurama’s thought.
“But I want him to know his heritage. I want him to know that he still has family that loves him and wants him. I want him and all my children in my life and in my arms. I want my kits with me, Myoga.”
Myoga just sat on Kurama’s shoulder quietly as Kurama began to softly cry. It was apparent to the flea that having to give his beloved children up had a lasting effect on the fox -- well, in all honesty, the fox/dog hybrid. The fox blood just happened to run truer than the dog in Kurama. It was also apparent to him that Hiei had not been much of a support for the middle son of the dog general. He did not remember Kurama crying at all once he had passed one hundred years old.
He had often wondered how the fox/dog hybrid, who also happened to be a master of botamancy, had fallen in love with the fire/ice hybrid who was a master of pyromancy. He honestly could not think of a more opposite set of demons.
Noticing that the sobs had slowed, Myoga looked closely at Kurama. The green eyes were clouded with as yet still unshed tears, and the remains of the tear streaks were drying into salty tracks down his cheeks. “All will be well, Lord Kurama. What you are doing now, you should continue doing. Honokitsu seems very fond of you.”
Kurama grinned ruefully. “Thank you, Myoga. I needed to hear that.” He yawned. “Inu Yasha should be waking soon. I must get some sleep.”
“I will leave you to it, then.” Myoga leapt off of Kurama’s shoulder and into Inu Yasha’s hair.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning found Kurama feeling much more refreshed and possibly more willing to deal with what his life chose to throw at him that day.
After a much more lively breakfast than the dinner the night before -- lively meaning that Miroku had found it fitting to manhandle Sango twice before she flattened him and Inu Yasha committed a crime that only Kagome could charge and sentence him for. He had renewed his friendship with the ground at least three times that morning -- they packed up and set off for one more day of walking before they turned back around to the village.
“Shuichi?” asked Shippo as he walked next to the red head.
“Yes, Little One?”
“Could you tell me more about plants?” Shuichi smiled and knelt down to Shippo’s level.
“Of course. What would you like to know?”
“Anything you want to tell me.”
“Okay,” agreed Kurama. He picked up Honokitsu and placed him on his shoulder so they could easily keep up with the others. “I’m going to tell you about the language of the flowers.”
“The flowers talk?”
“Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking. A certain flower stands for something. A Chinese rose means ‘Beauty always new’, for example. A Japanese rose means ‘Beauty is your only attraction’. Roses on the whole mean love or beauty.”
“What do cherry blossoms mean?”
Kurama smiled. “Cherry blossoms mean ‘My blush at your arrival may reveal to you the quiet fondness that I have for you’. They are also a symbol of rebirth to some people.” Noticing a flower on the side of the road, Kurama knelt down and picked it. “This is a white clover. It means ‘think of me’. A purple clover would mean ‘provident’. Four-leafed is considered a sign of luck.”
“Ah. What do poppies mean?”
“In general, poppies mean ‘eternal sleep; oblivion; imagination; extravagance’. Red poppies mean ‘pleasure; fantastic extravagance’. White poppies mean ‘consolation; sleep; My bane. My antidote’. Any others?”
“What about daisies?”
“Daisies mean ‘innocence’.”
And on they went for the rest of the day. A few of the others asked for the meanings of flowers they liked, and a good time was had by all.
~~TBC...~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Seven:
Where Words Fail, Let Flowers Speak
When Kurama returned, he was greeted with a slew of questions, some of which were easier to answer than others.
“Where did Koga go?” Kagome asked, her voice raising above the others’.
Kurama shrugged. “Something more important caught his interest, I suppose. He was about to attack me when he looked away for a split second, and,” he snapped his fingers, “he was gone.”
Inu Yasha just looked at him suspiciously, since he knew Kurama’s little secret. He thought that Kagome knew, but she was acting unusually dim lately, especially when it came to Kurama.
Everyone easily accepted his explanations, and they moved the discussion to what to do next.
“Since it was Koga’s shards that Kagome sensed, should we keep going and see if she senses any more, or should we go back to the village?” asked Sango, adjusting how Hiraikotsu sat on her shoulder.
“I think we should keep going,” said Kagome, as Shippo leapt up into Kurama’s arms. “At least for another day.” She turned to Inu Yasha. “What do you think, Inu Yasha?”
“Do what you want,” he said, looking away and crossing his arms.
“That’s Inu Yasha for ‘fine with me’,” translated Shippo.
Kurama smiled and hugged Shippo. “I have a friend who talks like he does,” he said, in a conspiratorial whisper. “The most that comes out of his mouth is ‘hn’. I have to translate for our other friends.” He knew that Hiei would never call Yusuke or Kuwabara “friends”, but Shippo didn’t need to know that.
“Well, let’s go,” said Kagome.
The day trudged on, the sun moving unusually slowly to Kurama’s mind. After what seemed to be decades, the sun finally sank behind the trees. Dinner, like lunch, was a quiet affair, everyone within their own minds.
Inu Yasha was assigned the second watch, Kurama taking the first. For the first half, Kurama just prodded the fire, wishing for a brief second that he had Hiei’s control over fire so he would not have to feed it so much.
Two hours in, he suddenly felt a sharp pain on his cheek. Thinking it was a simple insect, he slapped it, then reached for his hair.
“Greetings, Lord Kurama...” he heard faintly. Looking closely, Kurama recognized the flea.
“Ah, there you are, Myoga. My apologies.”
“I had not recognized you at first, Lord Kurama. But the blood always tells.” Myoga recovered from his brief existence in two dimensional and hopped up on Kurama’s shoulder. “I am pleased to see you have returned, Lord Kurama.”
“I am glad to have returned.”
“I have been watching Honokitsu, just as you asked. I fear I may have let his true name slip when Inu Yasha first encountered him.”
Kurama sighed. “I am pleased that someone remembers that Honokitsu is of an honorable line and should be called by his proper name.”
“Your father would have been proud of him, Lord Kurama.”
“I can only hope, Myoga.” Kurama looked at the flea out the corner of his eye. “Are you not going to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“Ask me if I have returned to care for Honokitsu.”
Myoga shook his head. “It is not my place to question your doing. You will do as you and Lord Hiei will.”
Suddenly Kurama felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. It was not a great weight, but it was enough to make him feel just a little lighter. “Thank you. I am glad that someone does not expect me to do what *they* feel is best.”
“What do *you* feel is best?” Myoga asked, crossing his arms.
Kurama sighed and put his head in his hand. “I do not know, Myoga,” he said with an air of great despair in his voice. “I have no idea how to really be a father. Nor does Hiei. There are times I feel he is better off remaining with Inu Yasha, forever ignorant of his true parentage.”
“But...” encouraged Myoga, knowing there was more to Kurama’s thought.
“But I want him to know his heritage. I want him to know that he still has family that loves him and wants him. I want him and all my children in my life and in my arms. I want my kits with me, Myoga.”
Myoga just sat on Kurama’s shoulder quietly as Kurama began to softly cry. It was apparent to the flea that having to give his beloved children up had a lasting effect on the fox -- well, in all honesty, the fox/dog hybrid. The fox blood just happened to run truer than the dog in Kurama. It was also apparent to him that Hiei had not been much of a support for the middle son of the dog general. He did not remember Kurama crying at all once he had passed one hundred years old.
He had often wondered how the fox/dog hybrid, who also happened to be a master of botamancy, had fallen in love with the fire/ice hybrid who was a master of pyromancy. He honestly could not think of a more opposite set of demons.
Noticing that the sobs had slowed, Myoga looked closely at Kurama. The green eyes were clouded with as yet still unshed tears, and the remains of the tear streaks were drying into salty tracks down his cheeks. “All will be well, Lord Kurama. What you are doing now, you should continue doing. Honokitsu seems very fond of you.”
Kurama grinned ruefully. “Thank you, Myoga. I needed to hear that.” He yawned. “Inu Yasha should be waking soon. I must get some sleep.”
“I will leave you to it, then.” Myoga leapt off of Kurama’s shoulder and into Inu Yasha’s hair.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning found Kurama feeling much more refreshed and possibly more willing to deal with what his life chose to throw at him that day.
After a much more lively breakfast than the dinner the night before -- lively meaning that Miroku had found it fitting to manhandle Sango twice before she flattened him and Inu Yasha committed a crime that only Kagome could charge and sentence him for. He had renewed his friendship with the ground at least three times that morning -- they packed up and set off for one more day of walking before they turned back around to the village.
“Shuichi?” asked Shippo as he walked next to the red head.
“Yes, Little One?”
“Could you tell me more about plants?” Shuichi smiled and knelt down to Shippo’s level.
“Of course. What would you like to know?”
“Anything you want to tell me.”
“Okay,” agreed Kurama. He picked up Honokitsu and placed him on his shoulder so they could easily keep up with the others. “I’m going to tell you about the language of the flowers.”
“The flowers talk?”
“Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking. A certain flower stands for something. A Chinese rose means ‘Beauty always new’, for example. A Japanese rose means ‘Beauty is your only attraction’. Roses on the whole mean love or beauty.”
“What do cherry blossoms mean?”
Kurama smiled. “Cherry blossoms mean ‘My blush at your arrival may reveal to you the quiet fondness that I have for you’. They are also a symbol of rebirth to some people.” Noticing a flower on the side of the road, Kurama knelt down and picked it. “This is a white clover. It means ‘think of me’. A purple clover would mean ‘provident’. Four-leafed is considered a sign of luck.”
“Ah. What do poppies mean?”
“In general, poppies mean ‘eternal sleep; oblivion; imagination; extravagance’. Red poppies mean ‘pleasure; fantastic extravagance’. White poppies mean ‘consolation; sleep; My bane. My antidote’. Any others?”
“What about daisies?”
“Daisies mean ‘innocence’.”
And on they went for the rest of the day. A few of the others asked for the meanings of flowers they liked, and a good time was had by all.
~~TBC...~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~