Adult-FanFiction.org : YuYu Hakusho

Thanks For The Memories	By : AdminRaptor Category: Yuyu Hakusho > Het - Male/Female Views: 2200 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho, nor do I make any money from writing fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
[One night:]
"I'm a freak."
I choked on the water I was drinking. It had been a couple decades, by this point, since Yomi had stumbled his way into my life. When I'd first met him, he had two ears, two horns on his forehead, and buds of horns on the top of his head (two on each side, one in the back). His horns had begun to get longer, and he was growing extra ears. Soon two ears would become six. I have no doubt that he grew four more ears so his body could compensate for his lack of eyesight. Demons sure are interesting. I've never heard of a human compensating to this sort of degree.
Yomi never expressed some of these feelings to others. I suppose he trusted me. And I trusted him.
"For the last fucking time, Yomi, you are not a freak." I said after getting over my choking spell. He wasn't convinced, so I continued: "There are some ugly demons out there. Real freaks. You aren't one of them. So don't let me hear you say that again."
"I'm a freak." He didn't mean it this time. I could hear the smile in his voice. Every single time I even suggested, or even demanded, that he not say something, he would do it anyway. I really should have stopped saying things like that.
I heard the rumble of thunder overhead following his statement.
"You know what? Whatever. You're a freak. But at least you're a useful freak. Now, where the fuck are you?" My "home" had no windows, and with the "door" in place, it could get pretty dark in there, especially at night or during storms, where the clouds blocked any source of light. Tonight was special, though. It was night time and storming. I couldn't even cross my eyes and see my nose. During these times, Yomi would help me maneuver my way through the dark. You might ask why I didn't just use a candle, but I tried. When it was this windy, it was impossible to keep a candle lit because the makeshift door didn't do too well blocking the wind.
"That hurts, you know."
I attempted to follow his voice, reaching out. "What hurts?"
"You called me a freak."
"Are you fucking serious?" It sounds like an angry question, but I was smiling. The floor of the hut was flat, which made it harder to distinguish where I was standing, and thanks to my stupidity, I'd probably spun around a couple times trying to reach Yomi. I had to admit that he was good to have around when it was this dark. If I had to get up, for whatever reason, such as to get a drink, he helped me to the water and from it, back to the bed. Now, you could argue, as I had often done, that he could simply bring me the water. But there's a problem with that: Yomi was merely helpful. He was not a saint. Besides, I have no doubt that he enjoyed my stumbling around in the dark. Thinking I'd just find a wall and work my way back from there, I took a step forward, preparing to take the next step. I was too confident.
I tripped over something. I bet it was my own shoes, so I at least figured I was near the entrance to the place.
Here's the thing about falling in the dark: You don't know what to try to protect. Maybe there's a table that you're about to hit. Maybe a children's toy. Or maybe there's nothing at all but the floor. But even if you tend to think rationally when you fall, you definitely tend to not do this while falling in the dark. Well, I at least was unable to do this by this point. Yomi could, but that's another story completely.
Speaking of Yomi, he caught me around the waist, preventing me from hitting the floor. "Careful." He said. I didn't thank him. He probably knew I'd trip, the jerk. He pulled me up to my feet. Once he led me to the bed, I pushed away from him and went to lie on my side.
"What was that for?"
"For laughing at me."
"I didn't!"
"No, but you wanted to, and that's just as bad."
"Well, maybe you should watch where you're going?"
"It's pitch-fucking-black, Yomi! I can't see a fucking thing!"
Silence. I could just feel him thinking "Oh, and I can?", so I grabbed my pillow (I'd finally gotten a second) and beat him with it. Smack! He retaliated. Smack! I swung again. Smack! Both of us were cracking up.
We were definitely getting along much better by this point. I suppose that when you spend a couple decades together and have not killed one another by that point, you stop trying to do so. It turned out that beyond all of the fighting, we did have a lot in common. I daresay we were actually friends. We got along so well that neither of us even bothered to get a second futon for Yomi.
(Okay, that's partially a lie. We didn't get a second futon because we figured that my hut was so small that it would be pointless to waste potential storage space with it. Besides, more storage space was preferable to the both of us.)
Don't get me wrong. We still had our fights, still beat the crap out of each other on occasion, but that was just part of our relationship together. We'd get along for a while, tension would build up, we'd fight, and then we'd be back to getting along. What friendships haven't gone through this every now and again? Sure, our fights tended to be physical, but they weren't always so. There were plenty of verbal disputes.
It should be noted, however, that these fights were becoming few and far between as time went on.
After the pillow battle was over (we called it a draw), we lowered ourselves onto the futon and brought the covers up. We were still a bit too wired to go to sleep, so we faced each other and just started to talk about anything and everything that came to mind. There was no particular direction. Yomi started it off by asking something for which I have still yet to come up with an adequate response.
"How would you describe a color?"
"What?" I was confused.
"Well, I know what a color is because I've seen colors before. But if a person hasn't seen anything, like if they were born blind, and they asked you to describe the color purple, how would you do it?"
"What the fuck kind of question is this?"
"Just wondering."
I thought about it. Sure, I could say it was a pigment, or a shade, but that wouldn't adequately describe it. You can have a blind person feel the lines of a square object and come to know a square object from a circular one, but you can't touch something and say, "Oh, this is what purple feels like." And it's not like you could describe a particular color using other colors, considering the person would never have seen the color used to describe it. My mouth opened and shut as I tried to speak, tried to come up with an answer. Finally, I found words.
"Well, how would you describe a color?" I countered.
"I'm not sure." Well, at least he could admit it. I didn't want to, at least not out loud.
It was silent for a few moments, until, finally, I came up with my own question, and blurted it out without even thinking: "How would you describe me?"
"What do you mean?"
Well, I figured it was headed in an awkward direction as it was, so I went ahead and pressed onward: "I mean, you've never seen me, so if someone asked you what I looked like, how would you respond?"

I saw him grin. "Well, in order for me to be accurate, I'd have to thoroughly examine your body, I think." He moved closer. I pushed him away, calling him a creep. Both of us laughed lightly.
"What kind of answer did you expect, anyway?" he asked.
"I don't know, really."
"It's not like I could say that you were blond and had brown eyes. I mean, I could, but that wouldn't make it true. You could be lying. Anyone who told me what they looked like could be lying."
I didn't respond. Even though I wasn't lying, he had a good point. He continued.
"You could be completely hideous, even if you told me that you were beautiful."
"You sure know how to flatter a girl." I was grinning. "It's amazing that you're still single."
"Well, if you're absolutely hideous, and you're always with me, that could play a part." He raised his arms to defend himself as I attempted to hit him.
"You're a fucking jerk! Ugh!"
"Hey," he said, defending himself, "the same logic would apply even if you were beautiful."
I stopped hitting him long enough to wonder what exactly he was saying about me. He took advantage of this, of course.
Snickering, he added, "But you're probably hideous."
"Fuck you!" There was much more hitting prior to the time we finally fell asleep.
We had a lot of nights like this. Like I said, we talked about anything and everything. There were things, though, that we didn't yet touch on-such as delving too much into one another's past. I think we were both uncomfortable with sharing our own past, so instead of focusing on it, we let it be the past. At least for the time being. It was nice. Those were some of my favorite nights.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Thanks For The Memories