Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Well Enough ❯ Well Enough ( Chapter 1 )

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

Well, the same ol' bit goes here. This is technically my first real piece of Yu Yu Hakusho writing. I've been told Hiei's a bit OOC in this, near the end... but I dunno. I'm not entirely sure how he'd act in such a situation... ^_^; Anywho, please R&R!

Disclaimer: I swear that Yu Yu Hakusho is not mine, was never mine, and will never be mine... *wipes away tears*

"Yeah, well, you know what? You can go to hell!" She slammed the front door with a frustrated cry and put her back against it. All around her the sleepy little neighborhood spread out, houses dark, streets empty. That was to be expected at two in the morning however. Now, quietly, she sighed and pulled herself away from the door. "God, I'm so stupid. Couldn't I have left well enough alone?"

It had been another of those nights, the ones where she came home from work to find her father glaring angrily at the door as if she'd been late or out with some boy. One of those nights where all the customers were either leering older men or women with too many noisy kids. One of those nights when she just wished she could curl up and disappear until the sun peeked over the horizon the next day. No such luck. Now she was standing outside in the night, shivering as the cold finally struck her. Angrily she stomped away from the door and down the front porch steps, all reason telling her to walk right back in and just apologize. But she couldn't do that, not tonight, her stubborn streak wouldn't let her.

Instead, she pushed away from the porch and began a slow trudge down the sidewalk. Feverish skin cooling in the night air she thought over the argument. What had it been about? There was no point; there probably hadn't been a good reason to start yelling in the first place. But it had happened, no changing that fact. Her sneakers scraped the cement dully, the only noise in this place eerily enough. Hugging her arms against her chest, she wished she'd been clear-headed enough to pull on a jacket before huffing and puffing her way out the house.

For a while she simply wandered, going wherever her tired feet would take her until she reached a familar place. The park. It was small and man-made, including the lake with it's tiny cave. She'd wandered into that cave many times though, on nights like this when she'd argued with her father and gone storming out. Shrugging, she decided tonight would be no different. She'd spend a few hours sorting through her thoughts within that cave and then go wandering back home, where she could sneak into her room without so much as a peep and then enjoy what little sleep she would get. Yes, a night like all the others.

The cave was dark when she arrived and hoisted her body inside of it. It sat a little ways off the ground, maybe three feet at most, and she dangled her legs off the edge of it. Another sigh and she was in that calm place once more trying to figure things out for the millionth time.

What startled her out of this reverie was a shink and the press of cold metal against her neck.

Swallowing the lump that had begun to grow in her throat, her eyes slid upwards along the length of the blade until they came into contact with the sword's owner.

He was short, to say the least, perhaps shorter than she was. Jet black hair, interrupted by a small starburst of white, defied Newton's very laws and his eyes were some bright shade that she couldn't make out in the moonlight. However, for all of his strange appearance, she could sense that he was very strong and perhaps immensely powerful, something to be afraid of. And so she swallowed again, hoping he would remove the blade and decide not to cut her throat out.

A long moment passed between the two but he must have been satisfied with her lack of instant reaction. The man withdrew his blade and sheathed it with another shink-ing noise. "What are you doing here, ningen?" he asked sourly.

Wondering if she dare speak, she at last found her voice. "Uh, had a problem. I usually come here to... ya know, sort them out." She winced a bit at the nervous edge in her voice. Despite not running away shrieking when the blade had been removed she was still quite disconcerted over this stranger's greeting.

"Well, it is occupied tonight. Go away." When he turned, the long black garments he wore swished gently and he began to walk farther into the cave.

Logic begged her not to be stupid, but she couldn't help the flare of temper that bled into her. How dare he tell her to go away! This was her spot after all, where she came to fix her own feelings. What made him think he could just push her out?

Well, it's probably that big pointy KNIFE he had at your throat... ever think of that?

Biting her lip, she nodded to herself. She had thought of that, but still, her blood heated even more. Marching right behind him into the cave, she ground out, "I'm not leaving."

He whirled on her, eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I said I'm not leaving."

Shink.

Spluttering almost noisily she backed away from the katana. Jeez, this guy had to have some serious problems to keep pulling out his sword on someone who'd obviously never even been in a fist fight, much less a fight which required the protection of one's own life. Maybe I really am stupid... No, you think? Her own thoughts sassed her and she pushed them away. "Look, I'm not scared of your sword, big boy (Big boy? He's practically begging for a reason to spill my blood and here I am calling him 'big boy'?), and I'm not leaving this cave. So if you can't handle that, then you're the one who needs to go away." Except, I really AM scared of your sword and I really don't want you to kil me... Teeth gritted, she puffed out her chest in an arrogant fashion, hoping he might tire of this game and leave.

However, this only produced a wry smile from him. It surprised her and she stared dumbfounded ahead as he resheathed his katana once more. "Spunk. I almost like it," he said quietly.

She snorted, a sarcastic response but one backed by tons of relief. Leaning against the cold wall of the cave, she slid down into a sitting position and looked up at him. He was silently studying her, taking in her dark tousled hair and tired eyes. She was still dressed in the rumpled waitress's uniform from work, a name tag still clipped to the left breast pocket of her shirt. Amelia. A smirk pulled at his face and he found himself sitting beside her on the floor.

"What silly onna problems do you need to work out?"

Eyes widening, for she had not expected him to speak to her again (much less to inquire about her problems), she looked over at him and shrugged her shoulders none too gracefully. "Just a big ol' argument with my dad. Don't even know what for."

A serious expression flitted over his face to be chased away by another angry look. "Something as trivial as an insignificant argument has possessed you to practically forfeit your life to sit in this dank cave?"

Raising an eyebrow she shrugged. "Look, it seemed important at the time. No matter how stupid it sounds to you. Who asked for your opinion anyways?"

He snorted, smirked, then glared all over again. "When I have an opinion, I make it known. No one has to ask for it."

Amelia sighed softly. "Whatever. Do you have a name? Or should I just call you Mr. Opinionated?"

"What do you need my name for, ningen?"

Snorting, Amelia replied, "Well, I'm not leaving. And you don't seem to be on your way out any time soon, so I figure we're sharing this cave for some time anyway. So, if I'm going to be sitting here in the dark with some man I just met, I want to at least know his name." And perhaps why I'm dumb enough to sit here and keep talking to him despite having a weapon drawn on me twice.

Another smirk and he finally replied, "Hiei."

"Hmm. Different. I like it." Then she motioned to her nametag, "Guess you've already seen mine then?"

He nodded curtly.

"Oh, good."

Silence. Amelia clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap, bringing them to rest abruptly on her stomach. Beside her, Hiei was stock still, eyes staring off into the distance. Although it was rather dark, she could tell that he was handsome. Rigidly masculine features had always attracted her and there was some pull to those eyes which she had the odd notion were not a naturally occurring color. Or at least not a usually naturally occurring color. Before she knew what she was doing, she was lost in her own gaze staring at this man beside her, wondering what he truly was doing here in her safe spot. Was this supposed to be some kind of sign?

Hiei caught her staring, but even as his eyes captured her own she did not look away. And though he would never admit it to anyone else, he had to admit it to himself. He could see her clearly in the dark, everything about her. Every defining line made by the muscles and other tissue just below her skin, every auburn colored strand of hair. Every bright fleck in her dark eyes. To himself, at least, he had to admit she was very pretty. It seemed as if everyone he knew thought that he'd never been attracted to someone before, as if the feeling was alien and foreign. However they were very much wrong. Hiei was a man, and despite his general facade of antisociability, he still had a man's desires. With one slip in reason, he found his hand cupping her soft jawline.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he did not let any words escape her. Instead he pressed his lips against her open mouth and kissed her roughly, greedily.

Amelia's eyes grew wide and her hands grasped onto his shoulders. What the hell? I thought... But she wasn't thinking anymore. Instead, she let him continue with his lips as they eagerly claimed her own again. Strange how all sense of logic and reason can be washed away with one simple touch, although this kiss was far from simple. As she closed her eyes, she felt his tongue slide hotly against her lips, demanding an entrance, which she less than hesitantly provided.

With one faint groan against her lips, he flung one leg over her and sat astride her legs. Pressing hot kisses against her skin, he began to tug at the uniform. He could feel her heart beating frantically in her chest, sense the conflicting fear and fiery want, nay need, flooding through her. But with his lips grazing ever so gently the soft cartiledge of her earlobe, he tried to reassure her, "I won't hurt you, onna."

"No," she whispered, shaking her head against him, before giving him one of her own passionate kisses.