“Drift”

6/10/01

By: Hikari

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Site: http://www.geocities.com/hikari_nanase/

Notes: None.

 

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             It seems that these days can only be consoled with my mere notebook and pen. Time is running short- I know it. I can see things very clearly now: the beginning, the end, then the beginning again. An endless cycle is what I see- what I comprehend. It’s like the sun. It rises with power, but sets with grace. This is how all things on earth must go. Thus I find myself here- on the beach on the fifth hour of afternoon. My feet are cold and buried within the warm sand, with my eyes watching the sun intently as several birds fly to reach it.

 

            I like sitting here. This is the only place where time appears to stop, and I can take pleasure in the tranquility. This place… always where something ended and something else is beginning… But what is it now? My expectations the past few years have slowed to nothing more than the simple attendance to work and such, however… I feel the desire for something more now…

 

            All I have are memories tinted by the shadows of regret or illuminated by the rays of joy. It’s been long since I have last rendezvous with my old friends, but this time, here on the beach, there is no intention of another gathering. It’s just me.

 

            I don’t mind it, of course. I will always remember their shining faces.  Faces filled with happiness- sometimes remorse or anger. Faces young, and faces old. I can see them everyday without having their presence at me side. I just know them. I just see them… and they’re not even there.

 

            With confession, I have to say that it does get lonely. I have Hiei to thank, however, for his non-too-frequent visitations to my household. We hardly talk any more, save for the predictable complaints of the day. I would shrug and make a face at all my papers, while he would grunt at the thought of yet another day of training idiots or protecting the gates. All the same, he has mellowed down. Mukuro keeps him in line, and undoubtedly, on a very comfortable leash. He has taken quite a liking to her, and I understand why our friendship has dwindled to the bare bond itself. There is no longer a reason for me to see him, nor is there any reason for him to do the same likewise. It doesn’t hurt. Not at all. Sometimes all we really wish is to see each other in order to not forget how everything started- realistic sentimentality.

 

            As for the others, well, they all have brought to earth the new generations. Yusuke with his wife and triplets. Kuwabara with Yukina and their lovable nine year-old, Yuwari. Shizuru’s salon chain. My stepbrother’s graduation and transition to adulthood. All this makes me wonder where in the world the time had went. It disappeared… like snow on the first spring morning…

 

            I’ve been through many things. This including confusion in regards to my own identity. Inhabiting a human body, and yet having a demon’s soul had driven me mad in my adolescence. I found no pleasure in killing, but I found no fear in committing the act either. I had never said anything about it, except for a few words to either Hiei or Yusuke.

Yusuke wasn’t too sure as to what to tell me. All he actually said was to “cheer up” or “live for your own reasons”. The latter was better advice, if only I had reasons at that time. The fire demon, on the other hand, told me to “keep the past as a memento, and walk through the future as a pathway…”

 

If only I knew where I was going…

 

            Then again, none of us truly knew what was in store for us, and the sudden end to our battles had left us at a shocking loss for words. We were friends, yes, but we did not have the same goals to any further extent. They all had their own dreams, and if they didn’t, they had a road to cover until the final end has been met. Me… I’m wandering around aimlessly.

 

            I’m kept safe in the warmth of the letters I receive. I get many of them, and from everyone. I’m updated on their lives- their ups and downs. They come to me for counseling, and this I value highly. It gives me a reason to smile, rather than smiling out of courtesy.

 

            I get letters from the Makai too. A few of the notes were from Yomi- the sights he’s seen, the places he’s been. His world in general. To my surprise, I get word from Mukuro as well. She likes to inform me on my old friend’s new eccentricities. I remember she once wrote that Hiei spent two whole weeks looking for something sweet to eat. No such thing exists in their world, and so he left for Ningenkai and returned one day with twenty gallons of ice cream. Mukuro worried about his health, that was until he introduced her to strawberry with fudge. And yes, I have letters from Hiei too. They’re not long, but they’re honest. He complained once that I cram too many sentences on a sheet of paper. I retaliated by writing smaller… Emphasis on smaller. MUCH smaller.

 

            Botan. I haven’t seen her much at all. Come to think of it, the last I’ve seen of her was more than half a decade ago. She sends cards on Christmas to everyone, but usually that’s all. She must be tied down in Reikai…

 

            Dating around is a subject I am not fond of. The further I scrutinize over it, the further I come to believe that I was destined to be the lone wolf- or fox depending on how you look at it. I haven’t discovered the aspiration for marriage yet. My mother had often been concerned about it, but seeing me contented with my workplace silences her doubts. I love helping people get well. I love being able to save a life instead of endangering it. I’m not who I was- if I can even recall WHAT exactly I was…

 

            Those kinds of memories have grown tired on me. My mother always told me that there are three things I can do with a memory. I can throw it away, I can hide it, or I can cherish it. I’m lucky to say that seven out of ten, my memories are cherished.

 

            A few weeks ago, I found white hairs sprouting from behind my scalp. I’m not certain if it is because of stress or if I’m aging. Who knows, maybe it’s both. I have a sense to recognize, however, that a heart can only beat so many times… and that letting go of the chains that cause me to be stagnant in life is the only solution to self-inflicted pain.

 

            We all have it. That sort of pain. Guilt, anger, sadness, pity, and other emotions that haven’t found a place in the dictionary. They’re so harmful, but humans, demons, and spirits all experience these feelings because we don’t know how else to react to the conflicts that the world bombards us with. That’s life… The greatest puzzle that can’t be solved until death… With some people, the puzzle hasn’t been solved even then…

 

            What makes me most satisfied, are the entangling embraces of my friends. It feels good to be a part of them. I appreciate the heat they give off- I treasure their lives. Embraces have been rare, unfortunately, but the sensation of being encircled stays with me for a fairly long period. It’s this sensation that keeps me on my feet, because I know that even in the most perfect of friendships- we all have to let go of one another one day…

 

            That’s the way it is… Friendship rises with power, but sets with grace…

 

            I stand now, still scribbling away on my notepad. I pick up a few pieces of driftwood as I walk about the beach. Driftwood scented of salt and sand. It’s funny, how it can endure the strongest of currents and most violent of storms… It’s only a piece of something which once used to be so big, but it’s a piece nonetheless.  I think I’ll collect a few- to make a quaint little picture frame… and protect my old bonds…

 

            My pen is running out of ink… I should stop here. It’s time to close the journal… because… there are no more pages to write on. It’s the end…

 

                                                                                                Written in ink on quill,

                                                                                                            Kurama

 

           

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

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