InuYasha Fan Fiction / Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Final Blood ❯ Final Blood ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

A/N: So, I entered this in Crimsonwhispers' The Forbidden Child Challenge and I won!! Amazing as it might seem. :] Sango/Hiei all the way so if you don't like the damned pairing, then you can click the back button because this is my story and I can write whatever the hell I feel like. :] have a nice day. In any case, this is dedicated to my big brother. :] who will NEVER read this or anything else I write. O_O
Disclaimer: sigh… I don't own YuYuHakusho or Inuyasha
Final Blood
A Sango and Hiei one-shot
And only in her death could she teach him to live. In her tears she taught him to laugh. Only with her life, could she teach him to love.”

Her pants came in even hushed tones as a single bead of sweat rolled steadily down her cheek. Seeing her current state he smirked, lowering his blade as he did so.
“We could always stop.” He suggested, arrogant teasing forming around these words.
She glared at him, but smiled nonetheless, “You wish. What are we going to this time?” There was no way, absolutely no way she would give up, she never did. This trait was one of the many he found especially captivating about her.
“Hn. I could care less. How about 1st blood? I doubt you have the ability to last much longer with that feeble excuse body.” He replied, raising his blade once more. His right foot shifted, moving into an offensive stance, a slight push and he'd be in full striking range.
Kirara, the loyal cat demon watched just as she always had. The sun had long before set, and it seemed as if the two would never put an end to their training. She blinked lazily in her petite form. Although in a mere second she had the ability to change into a rather large feline, she seemed to enjoy being clothed with innocence.
And so she watched as human and demon fought on. She watched their obvious eagerness to improve their skills together. She watched as their blades clashed, their war like habits and crude insults. She had done so every day. She watched as the two were slowly, oh so slowly, overcome by emotions so powerful, yet so unexpected.
“I suggest you worry more about yourself.” She smiled confidently at him, her grip tightening around the hilt of her own sword.
They stood there, just as they were. Silence overtook the area, it seemed even the wind took heed to their battle. As if in silent agreement, the two lunged simultaneously, their blades cutting through the air with unbelievable force.
The two swords met in a clang that filled the atmosphere, sparks forming with the explosive impact. Neither hesitated for even a fraction of a second, and they released their swords from the hold of their previous attack. He was the first, yet with amazing acrobatics, she managed to dodge without even using her sword to block. His swing however, sliced off a few strands of her long hair.
This was her chance, he had put so much force in that attack that there was no way he'd be able to recover. Had this been a true fight, with his speed she undoubtedly would be dead, yet this was a game to them. He had long since decided that the victor of these games would be determined by skill rather then his demonic speed. To pierce the opponent's flesh just enough to bleed. The first to do so would be the victor. . .“first blood”.
The slayer wasted no time, taking this opportunity with open arms as she pushed off her right leg. With all the force she could hone, she brought her sword into a deadly slash.
The silence was once again disrupted with an air searing `ching'.
Kirara stood abruptly, if only to see the outcome of this attack.
She felt his breaths coming in short rasps against her neck. His grip tightened, their dominant arms shaking between them as both struggled to fight the other's force on their weapons. It had been in that last fraction of a second that he had blocked, but she was close now, much to close. A centimeter closer would bring them to their blades which now made the only barrier between their bodies.
Neither dared move.
“When will you learn? You'll never get me swinging your sword around like that.” He nearly whispered, still pushing his blade against hers.
“Sorry for this.” Was all she said before she made her next move barely moving a muscle. It must have been their proximity clouding his thoughts because before he could react, she had already won.
Being a slayer, she had many hidden weapons. It just so happened that the one strapped to hide on her arm had sprung itself up. The once hidden blade had tore its way through the fabric and managed to slash his bare chest.
She smiled as a trail of blood began to spill out of the wound, forcing her gaze to not wander to explore the trails of muscle.
“Looks like blood.” She said, cautiously releasing her sword from the defensive lock they shared. “First blood.”
“. . .”, he followed suit, although still in a slight state of shock as he lowered his blade once more.
She regained her composure and pointed her blade at him playfully, “Looks like this meek little body outdid yours.” She said simply, flashing him a smile before lowering her sword, turning and walking away.
She returned the victorious blade to its sheath as she walked, not bothering to look back.
“Hn.” Was all he said, yet his eyes never left her figure. The beautiful ringing of her sword as she handled it and the way her hips unconsciously swayed as she walked combined to captivate his every being. Not that he'd ever admit that fact to anyone of course. Not even, it would seem, to himself.
He felt the eyes of the fellow fire demon piercing into him, and he turned to meet them. “Well, what are you staring at?”
The little cat of course, did not, probably could not answer, instead her reply somehow came from her movements. She gave him a knowing look before following her owner with light padded steps.
He watched, a rather annoyed expression playing across his features before sheathing his own sword. Shaking his head as he did so, he followed.

Hiei stared into the night sky, balancing effortlessly on the branch. He enjoyed the air in this world. It was still the living world, but it was as it should be. A world where demons and humans lived together in anything but harmony.
It had been six months since he and the people he had been forced to call teammates fell through that stupid well. He had to wonder if they were ever going to go on another mission after this one. Surely they'd find a way back, and yet, he also had to wonder if he even wanted to go back. . .
His thoughts were pushed away as something more interesting peeked into his vision. He sensed her before he actually saw her.
The Forbidden Child watched as the girl called Yukina worked happily. Soft, delicate melodies from her humming graced his senses. She was fully content, and the sight of his sister brought on unexplainable warmth even in such harsh conditions.
The icy wind played with her long locks, and she welcomed the cold air happily. His eyes narrowed at what it was she was doing. Why would those arrogant fools send the petite apparition to gather firewood?
Without another thought he descended from the branch, landing almost soundlessly behind his sister. The young koorime looked started for a moment, but upon turning to see him, she smiled. “Good evening Mr. Hiei” She said politely, shifting her hold on logs.
“Yukina, you.. don't need to call me Mr.” He said, his voice noticeably softer then usual, the distant cold tone was anything but left behind.
Her eyes widened a small fraction, but she was beginning to get used to his slight change of character at times. After all, he did have a right to think or act the way he wanted, it was of no sense to think she knew his entire personality.
“Of course, I'm sorry. Shouldn't you be inside with the others? It's getting cold out.” As far as Hiei was concerned, it was impossible for anyone to be cold once flashed that smile of hers.
“Hn. You should get inside, it's dangerous out here.” Yukina stared in bewilderment. Why should he, Hiei, be suggesting that he was even the slightest bit concerned about her? Still, there seemed to be no tenderness in his voice, so perhaps this too was normal Hiei behavior?
“Oh…Yusuke-kun didn't want to get firewood so I volunteered.” She explained quickly.
“That kind of work is not suited for you. I'll bring that blasted detective his precious wood” He said, silently cursing himself for coming down here in the first place. He had acted on impulse, behavior he usually had enough sense to avoid. Though now that he was down here, he wasn't exactly sure how to go about helping her.
“Oh, I couldn't allow you t-“ But he was already starting to take the wood from her, gently, perhaps too gently for his nature.
“Just go back inside.” He said gruffly, not bothering to look at her face.
The little koorime was a bit confused, but nodded and turned back nevertheless. She assumed that arguing with Hiei would get her a little less then nowhere.
Her brother watched her as she journeyed back into the hut. He was so preoccupied with making sure that she reached the others safely that he completely ignored his senses, failing to notice the presence behind him.
“You could just tell her, you know.” The damned girl was beginning to remind him of that blasted fox. But why in the seven hells did Hiei suddenly feel so at ease?
His nostrils flared nevertheless. “Hn. I don't exactly see you frolicking happily around with your own sibling.” He said, turning around to send daggers at her with his glare. But as soon as it was out, Hiei wanted nothing more than to take it back. Of course guilt never was something he showed very easily, and this was no different.
He looked away instead, not wanting to see her face.
Yet, there was no anger in her voice as she spoke softly, “I guess your right.”
Her voice, it gave away so much. How much it pained her to hear such a thing.
He looked at her in surprise. They had exchanged serious words before, their relationship had only been growing since the first time. In fact he had never had more… heartfelt conversations. And yet, it always surprised him how she could say or act in ways that would seem so uncharacteristic. . . And he found himself doing just the same with this girl.
This human girl.
“Hn. . . I didn't. . .” Could he apologize? Surely not, it wasn't physically possible for Hiei, The Forbidden Child to do such a thing. He felt rather foolish, to say the least. “I-“
“He was so scared. . . When he found that he was going to fight. . . so afraid. . . he was to gentle for a slayer. . . “ A smile. But if fadedeasily.
“Were you?” He asked, there was no compassion in his voice. He simply stared at her, struggling to keep a stoic face.
“What?” She looked up at him, tearing her gaze from the earth below her.
“Afraid. .” It seemed hard to ask as he did usually uphold an act of not caring about other's stories.
She stared at him for a long moment, remaining dead still, and it made him rather uncomfortable. Finally though, she looked away, her eyes closing slowly. “In truth. . . a slayer should get over his fear of death, before he or she enters battle, or so much as wears the costume. We live as samurai. Our only thought is to serve, to help our cause.”
“But?” He asked gruffly, he found it hard to believe mere humans, with their weak nature would follow such a code.
“There always was fear. . .” She said softly, as if she were ashamed of herself.
“And now. . . are you afraid?” She thought about this for a second. Kohaku was gone, and her previous fear was felt for him. . . him and only him.
“No. . . “ No ordinary human could have heard it. In fact, he barely heard it, and he had to wonder if even she had heard herself when “Kohaku” escaped her lips. At that moment, she started to shiver, and it seemed to be a great feat for her not to clench her eyes and cry.
All he could do was watch in surprise. In the 6 months he had known her, he had seen her cry once when she learned that her brother, Kohaku was dead. But even then, she forced herself to remain strong enough, only letting the tears fall when she believed she was alone. But he had seen it, and he had felt indescribable emotions when he had. But now, now it seemed so very different.
It angered. . .it hurt him to see her like this. The pain was too much for her to suppress, and now she was on the brink of crying in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to take this away, and he finally understood. It wasn't just this time.
He wanted to take her pain away.
She would not cry.
She would not show weakness, not in front of anybody, especially him.
`Kohaku. . . .'
“Sister. . .” His voice… was he?
No. . . that was past. . .
Worry, want-need, desire, compassion, tenderness. . . they blinded him. And at that moment, all he could think to do to help her was. . .
Hiei lunged before even thinking to sort out his thoughts.
She gasped as he grabbed her affirmatively, yet somehow, his hold had a certain tenderness to it.
It was all he could do. All he wanted.
Emotions he had never known before swept his every being away as his lips captured hers in one hell of a soul-searing kiss.
The embrace was like any other experience the two had shared. He was firm yet gentle and she, she was passionate, yet shy. There was no need for either to think, and it almost seemed like the rest of the world slipped away, a feeling neither wanted to let go.
It was then that he tasted it: bitter. . . salty. Hiei broke away from the euphoric embrace, his senses flaring as he took in her scent. His arms remained securely around her waist, holding her close as if afraid she was going to disappear.
Deep maroon orbs met his own of fiery crimson. Once again, his body reacted on its own, his hand rising to brush away the trail of her fallen tear. A small smile reassured him.
He wanted to speak, but in that kiss it seemed she had stolen his voice just as well as his heart. No. . .she didn't have his heart. . . What in the hells had he just done?
Abruptly, he let her go, as if she had suddenly developed some kind of disease. He wouldn't look at her. No, he couldn't.
What was he thinking? How could he have allowed this to get so out of hand?
Scolding himself, though unsure why, he took off, disappearing into the night, without leaving her so much as the patter of his steps.

The Next Day
Miroku heaved a long sigh, tending to his many, many wounds. The slayer who had knowingly stolen his heart had been especially violent today, and it was much more then even his body could handle.
In fact, all he had said was a simple “Good morning Sango.”, and the next thing he knew he was flying backwards.
“Good morning indeed.” She said sarcastically, before stomping out of the hut. On many other occasions, this day had brought much Sango-related pain to the rogue monk.
Come to think of it, Hiei hadn't come back the night before. Not that he made a habit with sleeping inside with everyone else, but he at least slept on the roof or one of the nearby trees. But no, nothing. And Yusuke had been yelling at him for an absence of firewood. Thus poor, innocent Miroku had been sent out in his stead.
And Sango had stomped in rather late the previous night as well, muttering something like “Damned demon.” Before ignoring the others and curling up, apparently eager for slumber.
Yes, something had indeed happened. It was just another of those nights, Miroku suspected that they had another one of their moments. And they no longer meant him and lovely demon slayer.
“Miroku?” His name being called snapped him back to reality. He had only now realized that he was staring off into space again, in the middle of wrapping his bleeding arm. Miroku looked up to see Kagome standing over him, a worried expression displayed on her features. He spared a reassuring smile to her, earning nothing an eyebrow raise.
“. . .”
“. . .”
But she let him be, figuring his mind was plagued only of something perverted, and she turned around to argue with Inuyasha about some affair.
The two left so much signs about their growing relationship, yet neither noticed the effect it was having on him. He supposed it was his fault, for acting the way he had when he had her. He took her for granted, feeling he had all the time in the world to tell her of his love. He smiled to himself.
As long as the slayer was happy, he supposed it would be alright to sacrifice his own. “Yup, plenty more fish in the sea.” He muttered to himself, before standing once more.

Sango sighed. . . it was of no use, no matter how hard she tried, she simply could not remain truly mad at him. She would have to apologize to her friends for her behavior later. Right now, however, she had but one objective- find that little bastard, Hiei.
It didn't take long for Sango, she knew where he'd be. Sure enough, she found the young male koorime in the same clearing deep within the forest. It was no surprise to her that she hadn't surprised him at all. Her greeting was, nonetheless, a little less then warm.
“What are you doing here?” He asked coldly, sheathing his sword.
Looking at him now, hearing his voice, she found all her courage seeping away, and forced her mind not to wander to last night. She stood her ground nevertheless, though she was not mastering the art of hiding emotions very well at the moment.
He stared at her, his gaze softening when he saw her face. He had never wanted to see her like this again. Looking like she wanted nothing more then to kill him, that was far better than this. Someone so strong. . . This didn't suit her. He remained silent however, not caring to show what he was feeling, not like last night.
“Hiei. . . about what you said. . . I wasn't afraid.. . but. . . I am now.” She wasn't sure why she was saying such things, nor was she sure why she was feeling so…afraid. And she hoped this feeling of coming danger was a mere figment of imagination. Yet. . . something told her to tell him. Something was making her tell him.
“Hn. . . weak human.” Was his only distant reply, glaring at her with shaded crimson orbs.
His shock showed momentarily on his features when he received no comebacks from the slayer. She simply looked away from him, and continued. “I. . . I am afraid to die. . .without. . . without you knowing.”
He watched her, and she seemed to be struggling on her words, and it almost felt as if he could feel the heat emanating from her cheeks. He shivered at the realization of what she was coming. He wasn't sure what this feeling was, but he knew. . . he liked it.
“I'm afraid for something to happen to you or to me. . . without you knowing. . . that. . .I. . .I love you. . . Hiei.” She finally said, clenching her eyes together, in embarrassment. Never before had he heard those words, not directed within miles of him anyway.
And yet, once she said it, he wasn't sure of what to do.
“Fool. . . Nothings going to happen. What are you babbling on about?” He was eager to escape. This was not something in his handling expertise. And with that, he turned and left her, standing alone in the darkness.

Hiei sat idly next to the stream. Since the past night he had been training ruthlessly. It seemed to him like he had never moved that quickly, non-stop for such a long period of time. Even his body had its limits. He sighed before leaning down to splash some water on his face. The rippling water began to settle when he was finished, revealing his reflection to him.
Only then could he see it, displayed on the surface of the cool running water. Someone was standing behind him. This wasn't right. How could anyone sneak up on him, even now, he felt no presence. With incredible speed, even for a demon, he had the figure in his grasp with one fisted hand, and his sword pointed at its throat with the other.
“H-Hiei?” Dark maroon eyes bore into his soul with their fear.
Fear of him.
“!” realization hit, and he threw her down in shock, her body crashing to the ground with a small gasp of protest.
“Wench! What the hell are you doing?” He yelled at her. This, apparently, was the only way he showed his guilt.
Yet, she said nothing. Her movements entranced him, and all he could do was watch as she rose from the ground, her silky veil of hair flowing melodically behind her.
“Hiei. .” She whispered, her voice was melancholy, and her features showed just the slightest bit of sadness. Oh how he loved the way his name sounded on her lips.
Though hesitant, he stepped slowly toward her as she did the same.
How perfectly she fit into his arms.
He embraced her as well as her warmth, and her scent. Oh her scent. . .
It wasn't there.
The excruciating pain lasted but a fraction of a second before his senses were numbed.
A vital attack.
He couldn't figure out whether it was happening in slow motion or someone had pressed the fast forward button. Either way, the deed had been done.
A shrill laugh filled with such cruel satisfaction emanated from the enchantress. She must have twisted the blade, because every inch of his body, not only his pierced chest was graced with a shock of pain.
He screamed out, just as he had on that dreaded surgeon's table. Although this wasn't nearly as bad as the operation, which depended on both the Doctor's ability as well as the patient's tolerance for pain, he could feel himself slipping away. His primary organ must have been completely torn.
As his vision blurred, his vengeful attacker's was no longer the face he saw, he called out to the owner of the perfection now in his mind.
“Sango. . .”
The last thing he would remember registering in his mind was her answer, “HIEEEIIIIIIIII!”

His head pounded with such intensity that he could barely remember how to open his eyelids. “nnnnnh. . .”
Fighting to put the pieces of his mind together was not an easy task. Still, he forced himself to remember the events that put him into this predicament.
His eyes snapped open, “Sango!”.
Stormy blue eyes filled with such worry and sorrow met him in the conscious world. The face he was met with was not the one he particularly wanted to see. “H-Hiei. . .” The time traveling miko knelt beside him, a towel in her hand, her face streaked with tears.
“What happened?” He demanded, his voice was rather harsh, but he had never been one to be mindful of that.
In the time they had known each other, the girl had always yelled or snapped back at him for being “rude” or something along those lines. Now however, she simply sat and looked at him with watery eyes. “. . .”
“Tell m-“ But he was cut off by a presence he hadn't thought to take notice of it. The voice was a cold one, emerging from the corner of the petite hut.
The monk delivered his reply dryly, his face hidden by his hair as his gaze seemed to remain on the floor. Hiei's despair had never come at such great impact as they had from the two words that had escaped his love rival's lips, “She's dead.”
Words alone could not possibly describe the emotions that sentence had stirred within him. Although Hiei would not have known what a roller coaster ride was like, the author assumes you know the feeling of a rather large drop. Stomach jumping, breath caught in the throat, insides churning. In any case, if such an experience were to be multiplied many, many times, it might come close to what the male koorime experienced at this moment.
“!” But what could he say? There was no possible way this could be true. The color drained right out of his face, as all of his sunshine turned to rain.
Miroku continued flatly, the rings on his staff ringing as he shifted in his position. “She used all her life energy. To save you.”
It registered, and the cold truth sunk in, pain far worse then that of his wound shocking every cell in his body. “Why?” It was childish, but was all he could do.
The monk remained silent for a while, and Hiei wanted nothing more then to rip his bloody head off. He was being naive, thinking that Miroku would hold all the answers, but he needed them, foolish or not. “. . . It's called love.” He finally said, his voice devoid of all emotion.
Hiei was gone.
“!” Kagome stood abruptly, calling after the mat swinging from the entrance of the hut. “Wait! Your wound isn't fully he-“
“Let him go, Kagome.” She spun around, the tears for her fallen friend still stinging at her eyes.
“Miroku!” She yelled angrily, clenching the towel in her fist. Yet he remained still, slumped beside the wall, and Kagome knew this was no easier for him then anyone else.
“You honestly think your have the power stop him? The woman. . . he loved is dead.” It pained him to say it, but he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was her. `Sango. . .'
The miko's reincarnation stared sadly outside the hut, `Oh Sango. . . just look at what you've left behind. . .'

His burning hatred grew with every passing moment the creature was in his sight. “Dare you even bother to offer an excuse?” He growled, slamming her into the wall with ease, his grasp firm around her slender throat. Her appearance was no longer that of the slayers, but her own.
The enchantress screeched out in pain, her shimmering sapphire eyes shielded as she clenched them together. “All-All I wanted was revenge!”
“Believe me, so do I.” His voice was cold, devoid of any emotion and she knew that an excruciating death would surely come far before mercy.
Still, she tried, desperate for her own life. “I didn't mean for this to happen. You should-hf-have died!” She cried, gasping for breaths. “I-hff hff- wanted her to-hf-suffer. As I have.”
Hiei's grip around her neck tightened, his eyes shimmering with hate for thecreature. Death by suffocation didn't seem nearly painful enough considering what she deserved.
“Nnng. . . That wench. . . wasn't supposed to -hff- die.” A gasp for breath. “She got the hff- easy way out. . .” His blood boiled with every word she breathed out, yet he couldn't stop listening. “Killed….hff…. my sister. . .She nnf…deserved to suffer.”
That was it. He slammed her against the wall of the cave once again, using his grasp on her throat, and she hissed out in pain. His free hand shot to the hilt of his katana.
This wench was about to d-
“!” He had unsheathed the blade a mere fraction of an inch before stopping. It wouldn't budge. Looking down immediately to see what had hindered his movement, his heart, or what was left of it stopped, even for a demonic heartbeat.
For securely tying the tsuba to the scabbard was a thin, simple white ribbon.
Killingis all I have! It's all I know. It's all I needto know.”
The ribbon she wore, tying together the ends of long, silky tresses.
“Why? Why must it be that way. . .”
His eyes widened, the bloodlust draining from his features. Her voice playing over and over again in his mind. He released his prey, causing her to crash to the ground, gasping for air.
She glared at him through sweat dampened bangs as she fought to regain a normal breathing pattern. She watched, though rather confused at his actions. His gaze remained on his sword, still sheathed at his waist.
He slumped to the ground, a few feet away from her, his body starting to shake.
She dared not move
“. . .” Without so much as another glance at her, he stood and walked silently out of the mouth of the cave, leaving her to sob alone.

His movements were quick, but not to his potential.
Speed never decided the match, but rather, skill.
His footwork brought on new opportunities for striking, and his movements were nearly unreadable. Except, that is, to his opponent. She could read every movement he was about to make, and he returned the favor.
He was no longer in the present world, but rather, his mind. . . his heart was currently in the past. Once again, he was fighting her, their skill nearly parallel.
Her movements were accentuated by long, flowing locks. Beads of glistening sweat rolling down her face.
His sword was blocked over and over, and she smiled in determination.
He wasn't sparring alone. He wasn't.
She was here.
Right here.
A shock of pain dispersed from his chest, and he could feel his wound opening once more. His footing faltered, and he collapsed to the ground painfully. “Nng.”
What was this feeling? He had felt it threatening before but. . .
“I love you too. . .” The hushed words escaped from his lips before he had the time to restrain himself, and they shocked even him. He cursed himself, for not saying it earlier. . . when she'd actually be able to hear the words. “I love you.” He said, a little louder this time, his fists clenching together, fingernails crushed against his palm.
This feeling. . . His body shook, and his eyes stung.
Stung from the tears threatening to fall.
“Damned bitch! I love you too!” He couldn't hold them back, and they trickled down his face, growing colder and colder in the wind. Hiei, the only warrior brave and strong enough to completely master the Darkness technique, collapsed to his hands and knees in the middle of the clearing. . . and cried.
The sakura blossoms were falling.
How lovely they seemed, drifting gracefully to the ground. He was sure of it, each petal that fell was even more beautiful then the last. Never before had he seen such perfect flowers, and now, he was surrounded. They played and danced around his form, each refusing to hit the ground without a show.
He wasn't sure how he had gotten here, but it was as if this was all he remembered. Here, the birds chirping, the wind blowing gently, and the delicate petals, displaying their beauty to the very fullest.
“I wouldn't have thought you'd enjoy watching sakura.”
That voice. His blood ran cold that instant, but. . . in a good way. Hesitantly, as if afraid of what he might find, he turned to face the source.
“. . .” Her cheeks turned red under her gaze, just as they always had. Still, she maintained her attitude, apparently unaware that he could sense her unease. Everything was there, scent and all, and euphoria swept over him from just a glance. It mattered not how this was possible, just that she was here. . .
“You look like you've seen a ghost.” She said, a small smirk playing across her lips.
That wasn't funny.
His fists clenched, part in surprise of seeing her, part in joy. But all he could do was gaze at her in disbelief, until he noticed her hair blowing freely in the wind. It added to her beauty, the sight of her standing there, framed by a sea of dancing petals was simply captivating. But her hair, it was no longer tied at the end. . . the reason being. . . “Why did you tie that blasted thing to my sword?” That was all he could think to say? He mentally slapped himself. She dies, and reappears before him and that's all he could think to say?
The smirk washed off her face, and she smiled for a second. It was the same smile he despised seeing. One that hid nothing of her sadness from him. She reached out, catching a single sakura gently, which must have been rather difficult in the multitude of petals falling around them. It was one of the few falling that was complete, and she acted as if afraid it would fall apart.
He watched her, unable to redirect his gaze. “You told me. . . that killing was all you had. . .”
“Fool! This time. . . I would've been killing for you!” He yelled, the wind seemed to pick up with this, causing the sakura to whip dangerously around them with his anger.
She looked up from the delicate flower in her hands, crushing it in her clenching fist. “Do you honestly believe that I'd want your hands to be bloodied over me?” She nearly yelled at him, holding an almost painful glare. She looked away.
“. . .” He wasn't sure why he didn't have anything more to say. And, when he thought about it. . .When the thought had struck him. . . He tore his gaze from her, intent on asking the only question he really needed an answer to. “Why. . .”
“What are you talking about?” She asked softly. She was gazing at her hand again, relaxing her fist so that the ruined flower flew gently into the breeze. She closed her eyes, sighing lightly.
It was hard for him, and he wasn't even sure if this was real. “Why…” He gave up trying, and yelled at her, his emotions too confusing to handle. “Damnit! Why did you waste your blasted life energy? I'm a demon, I'm not nearly as weak as y-“
“Oh, if that were true, my life energy wouldn't have been used at all.” She said in a matter-of-fact tone, sparing him a smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but she went on, “Of course you wouldn't know a thing about giving your life for someone, seeing as you wouldn't do such a thing for someone.”
What was she talking about. Part of him wanted to agree with her, just to maintain his guise. Still, she should know the truth, and a pang of guilt struck him. . . because she didn't.
“That's not!” He started angrily, but stopped himself, quieting his voice as he bravely took a step forward. “That's not true.” He said, his voice filled with so much. . . was that tenderness, that surprised even himself.
Her surprise emanated from her expression and she instinctively took a step back, his tone causing her to blush profusely. Another step forward. Another one back.
“Sango. . .” It was rare. So very rare for him to call her by her actual name. Another step closer, and this time, she didn't falter, not even an inch. It mattered not if this were real, or just a dream. Either way, he had lost her, and yet. . . here she was. Finally, he didn't bother to hide his joy.
“Hn.” He closed in on her, taking her in his arms. He burrowed his face in her hair, wanting nothing more than to remain here… forever. “I love you.” Not once, never in his life had those words escaped from his lips, not with someone there to hear them anyway. Here, with her in his arms, he liked the way they sounded, and with a sense of contentment, he closed his eyes.
She was limp, but warm in his embrace, obviously unsure of what to do. “I love you too. . .” She whispered ever so tenderly, moving closer, their bodies nearly molded together.
Till this day, Hiei had but one sign. One solid proof that the time he spent in the midst of the rain of cherry blossom petals with the demon slayer had been real. This sign of salvation, of redemption. . .of love, was the scar he would bear for the rest of his days on his right cheek.
Of course, it is possible for him to have received that scar when he had collapsed. Kurama, the spirit fox had, in fact, found him unconscious in the clearing with that scar. Yet, what could have caused such deep impact?
And so, this must really have been a scar inflicted upon him by non other then the girl he had held in his arms. Too vivid and clear, to real she had seemed for it to have been a dream.
Before he had time to react, she had slashed him with one of her many hidden knives. Her being a demon slayer, it was only natural, even here, after her death. He gazed at her in surprise, his embrace loosened.
But this wasn't a violent attack, not one of bloodlust or revenge. But of simple compassion. Well, as compassionate as slashing someone's face as one could possible be.
Perhaps, to understand, you'd just need to have the sort of relationship that was shared by the demon slayer and demon.
He brought his hand up to her own cheek, and she closed her eyes at his touch. He stroked her perfect complexion tenderly as she offered her final goodbye.
“Looks like blood. . .” She whispered, “. . .final blood.”

You cannot truly love something without first truly realizing that it can be lost.”

A/N: Im sure most of you were expecting to see more fluff, yes? WELL too bad :] I wanted to create a different kind of relationship between the two. Seeing as I didn't have to time to develop their story too much, I decided that an unbelievable amount of fluff wouldn't be included. Just the scene where she tells him the whole I'm afraid to die without you knowing crap, that was pushing it BIG TIME >< The relationship, as well as this story was basically centered around their training, and their “game”. This is why I began and ended with battle orientated scenes, reflecting their warlike natures.